when they say, “it’s the little things”
on the counter is the mug with the chipped handle and a ring from the cup of ice water that I poured in the orchids, there is really only one orchid, but it felt better than saying that I split it with the monstera, that night I will not sleep, the bedroom door is painted in three parts Bit O Sugar and one part Lamb’s Skin with two packets of glitter to remind myself that I love the sunlight, the idea will clog up behind my eyelids, twinkle against the worry that I might forget these thoughts by morning, and both will coalesce with the sound of the fan and the sound of the wind, and I will bolt up from almost sleep and remember that there is a light I forgot in the violet room, it will be bouncing off the mirror, I will pretend to sleep, and the black sheets will pretend to be satin, there is still packing to do for the weekend, the floors are not swept, this is most likely not a poem, but you’re reading it, and I wait for my coffee with a headache
Love and Wonder
Seven days until the end. Life has meaning now. I must go out and search for that meaning. To live a life of love and wonder.
I went off with nothing in my hands, catching rides from place to place with people who knew nothing of the end. I could tell them. I could. Would they believe me? What would I cause? I couldn't have that burden on me. But what about this burden? Knowing, but only me.
On the first day, I arrived in the city. As I walked off the bus, I saw people everywhere living their lives like they had plenty of time. All I did was walk. I looked at everyone, listened to music on the street, watching hopefuls wasting their last days on dreams that would never come. At least they found their meaning. I am just now realizing mine. Would I be here if I never got that message? Or would I still be where I was, wasting my days not trying?
I walked for what seemed like hours. Seeing what normal people would never see in their lifetime. I arrived at a hostel with colorful signs on the windows. As I got to my room, I laid in bed, listened to the sounds outside, and fell asleep.
On the second day, I arrived to the ocean. I walked in the sand for hours. Hot to touch under the warm sun, cooled off every minute by waves of the earth. I laid under the beaming rays. Birds flying above me waiting for the next person to give up their food. A red ball bounced off of me. A little girl walking over to retrieve it. I threw it back and she returned it. For what seemed like the longest time, I played with her like I was a kid myself. She soon was called back over by her family. They waved. I waved.
I ran and jumped into the water. Swimming as far as the waves could take me until my arms and legs no longer had the strength. I floated on my back, continuing to stare at the sky above me, with clouds about to cover the remaining blue.
On the third day, I walked in the rain. I ran in the rain. I splashed and kicked in puddles. I kissed in the rain. I loved. We loved.
On the fourth day, we arrived in a small town. We ate, and ate, and ate. We window shopped, bought a few things, took a few things. We danced all night to the stringed instruments playing music in our ears. We ate, danced, and drank until we couldn't eat, dance, or drink anymore. We fell asleep in a field under the sky full of lights.
On the fifth day, he left. I stayed. While exploring the small town, I met a group of strangers. We talked. They asked me what I was doing there. I told them I didn't know. It was good enough for them. They took me to an apple orchard. It was my first time being in one. We filled basket after basket with apples. We sat under the trees eating the apples and fresh apple cider provided for us by the lovely owners of the orchard.
Later that night, we had a bonfire. I had never been to a bonfire. We roasted marshmallows, made s'mores, and drank hot chocolate. It was a peaceful, quiet night with new friends. It was my favorite day of my journey so far.
On the sixth day, I left early. Catching a ride in the front of a truck heading back to the coast. It would be a long trip this time. With the wind in my hair and the smell of autumn in the air, I felt peace. We laughed and sang. We had long conversations about nothing and everything. We ate all the snacks in the world.
On the seventh day, we arrived. As I stepped out of the truck, I knew this is where I was meant to be. I had lived many different lives during this journey. I experienced what many only wish to experience. I met people who I would have never met if I never got that message. I walked out onto the rocks and closed my eyes. I found the meaning. Love and wonder. I lived.
#loveandwonder #story #shortstory #sevendays #livelife #lovelife #findyourmeaning #findmeaning #challenge #message
This was for my first challenge on my old account.
Time Well
The night is riding in
just around the hill
we hear the clattering
where a flag is waving
in the wind...
a lady's handkerchief
within the romance
of the moment
so resplendid that we sing!
children of the village
holding lanterns up
for the thrill...
all is changing
all is changed
all is change
our hearts
still palpitating
What will surface in this night?
From the black ink below the bridge
That dips and dives
Drawing secrets down,
down into it’s elusive fold
To be translated by that shadow on our backs…
The night flowers are blushing,
And pungent…
A ghost hollers up to us from
Davey Jones locker…
A whole host of fireflies
Comes alive and lights our way,
So that for an instant we can vaguely attempt
To re-trace lost steps and fall back
Into the mad ranks of the nature scene…
…Still straining to see with hungry eyes that hear!
all is changing
all is changed
all is change
and we
are pocketing it
© Aug 14, 2020
Bunny Villaire
Mavia Villaire
You scare me
My heart pounds,
My palms shake,
My mind races.
Every cliché schoolgirl response.
My walls were built
With solid stone
And years of work.
But one look from you and they crumble.
My cheeks flush
When you smile
And I smile back.
But then I remember the last time.
He smiled at me
Like you do now
But it wasn’t long
Before that turned into gnashing of teeth
His arms comforted
Like yours do now
But it wasn’t long
Before he used them to imprison me
His hands were soft
Like yours are now
But it wasn’t long
Before they left me bruised and broken
You scare me
Because I want
To love you
But love terrifies me.
The Cannon
it made swift contact,
the little yellow light,
of acknowledgement.
it knew what to do.
and yet, it refused.
quickly, it sent demands,
letting me know of the cartridge,
that must be replaced.
i pleaded, argued ,
that I have no need of color,
that black and white will do.
big mistake, argueing.
lost and defeated I replaced ,
the needless rainbow.
but that did not pay,
that did not absolve.
my insulance was repayed.
she took the entire stack,
all the sheets at once,
jamming them,between the rolers,
gnashing them between the teeth.
she spat the work half done,
then swallowed it again,
to soil the other side.
the rage of her reaction ,
ended cooly,
as she turned the light to red,
a final dismmissal.
I struggled to appease her,
reset the colors,
cleaned the gears,
un-jam the entire tree worth,
that she stubbornly held on.
only after that,
and a final beg for forgivness,
she printed me a single copy,
then ran out of black.
