Swing

Inching closer to the ground,

An adrenaline rush I have found,

I feel my heartbeat through my chest,

 I can’t even feel the rest.

Opening my mouth to let out a yell,

There is nothing else to tell,

The fun is going to last forever,

I can’t even take a breather.

Falling backwards is not my wish,

Swimming in the air like a fish,

Heart quickens, faster than before,

Like I bird I will soar.

Turtle From Tagxedo

Losing my breath in the cold chilly wind,
My head continues to spin.

Halloween Creeper Story

I breathe in. I feel my lungs contract with the heave of smoke. I cough and lay down on my bed, for my lungs are harshly pressing against my chest. I am in a dark room. In a dark house. On a dark street. In a disappointing, depressing nightmare of a neighborhood. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I feel some sort of hot breath on the back of my neck. I force my body to turn but I only catch one gleaming, deadly, fiery red eye. I hear my heart beating loud in my chest. I can feel my lungs tighten as I smell the smoke coming out of what must be a large expensive cigar. I roll over on the bed and my body doesn't catch me before I fall onto the cold floor. I hear the thump as i feel the impact. I hear dark, heavy muffled footsteps come around to the other side of the bed. I feel a foot kick mine. I wince as a ripple of pain emanates through my body. I close my eyes and wait for someone to end my life abruptly. The suspense almost kills me because I am waiting but nothing comes. I don't hear any heavy footsteps leave. Only silence. Cold. Dead. Silence. I drag myself up and force my eyes to finally adjust to the dark and look around. I see the eyes again. They are far away from me. They do not blink they do not hesitate. They stay and I cannot seem to force myself to look away. I am in a trance of these deadly fiery red eyes. They beckon me. My mind does not listen to my conscience telling me to stop. My feet and body drag myself up and towards the eyes. Even as i get closer i see nothing but the eyes. They do not seem connected to a head or a body. They are there by some force. I reach out my hand and i see another hand reach for mine. A small black gloved hand. It seems it is a child's hand. A child with red eyes. A child who when touching my hand i get dizzy. I do not feel my hand any longer. I do not in fact feel any part of my body. All i feel is the cigar smoke being blown in small puffs in my face. I feel my chest tighten again as I breathe in the smoke. I cannot process what happens next. I refuse to describe it. My breathe was taken away. I try to scream, but the smoke seems to have dried up my throat and vocal cords. I am changed. I am no longer who i was before. I have no words. But i shall always smell the smoke. I shall always feel the pain. I will always be haunted by the fiery red eyes that hold death in my nightmares. I shall never get away now.

Autumn - I am a Giraffe

I am now no longer pregnant. Thank goodness! I think i could actually feel that baby's hooves and horns poking at me, trying to press against my bladder. My baby is just the cutest, so much cuter than all those ugly human babies! Thank goodness!

The Pitch of The Night

As I write in the dark of the night, I wonder why it is called pitch black. A pitch is a noise, a sound, a single note softly coming of my sound box. And is the night really black? I disagree, i think the night is many colors, many shades of many different colors. There is blue, there is black, there is the soft pink as the sun sets. The stars may come out, they may light up the sky and keep your night going until the hours of yawning. And the moon; Oh, the moon with its many different lights of brightness. At times its as bright as the sun, although it really is a reflection of the sun. Scientifically, the moons halo of light is a reflection of the sun, but not mentally. I believe the moon has its own light, just for me. I can stare at it all night, until it decides to leave me and surround me with the beautiful air and feeling of morning. The night is never exactly pitch black. The moon is never really a reflection of the sun.The stars are for me. The moon is for me. The colors of the night are for me. And anybody who disagrees will simply have to deal with the fact that any argument to me is irrelevant. And so with that over with i bid adieu and sleep soundly with the crickets giving me comfort that I am not alone, and my dreams moving at a pace that only one dream shall be known at my awakening.

BFA:  Last week was your first homecoming experience as a Byrnes Rebel. Share your thoughts about the dress up days, school spirit, football game, and how you feel about this event in general. Are you looking forward to next year and being at the high school for homecoming?

Beech Springs First Visit

Friday was the first day my creative writing class went to Beech Springs Intermeidiate School and read to the special ed classes. We all created childrens books with a partner and presented them to our reading buddies. Kristen and my buddy was Grace, she was in the sixth grade and reminded me that even if you are different on the inside you don't have to look different on the outside. I forgot we were seeing Special Ed kids and treated them like normal and as it turned out that's pretty much what they were