I remember you
Your deep frown and hearty laugh
The way your eyes lit up when you were pleased
And how they darkened and almost disappeared as your grin widened in mischief
I remember how you would fold both hands and place them on your head as you sat
Or bring them together at your back as you walked
Kicking pebbles, shifting the weight of the world from one shoulder to the other (more…)
The darkness is here again. It’s gathering, crowding at the base of my throat, and if I look down for even a moment, I will drown. I think it’s my fault that it’s here this time; maybe I invited it by calling its name, and maybe I roll around in it a little; it’s comfortable and has room for self-deprecation and pity parties. Every year, it comes and slowly winds itself around me, squeezing until I’m gasping for air and blinded by its thick fog.
Ghosts of Christmases past and shards of broken dreams poke at my insides: the ghosts taunting with memories of what was and images of what could have been, and the dreams wailing, mourning their brokenness. I have felt the pain of two kinds of heartbreak: one from romantic misadventures, that feels as though someone is tap-dancing in sturdy shoes on the best part of your insides. Or like someone is messing with some controls in the upper left part of your anatomy. At least you know where to mend. The other one, is the pain of broken dreams; you’re shattered in so many pieces and scattered in so many directions that you don’t even know what or where to look after. Every year, hope comes to mend me, leaving less pieces than it found each time, and each time, life comes with its baseball bat right after and runs it through my dreams again, right in the middle.
But I won’t look down this time. I’ll keep my head above the darkness. I won’t look down.
Where I grew up, the last three months of the year are known for the harsh cold they bring. I remember occasions when my face wrinkled like the skin on an old woman’s neck; you dared not powder your face and you better have a jar of Vaseline in your purse. One of the things that surprised me when I first moved to Lagos was the year-round heat. Before you even get to the Mowe – Ibafo area, you…
Author: Rebecca Bahn
Published: May 6, 2014
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Children’s Book Group
Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult
Marni is half-woman, half-dragon. Both sides of her are constantly at war and pulling her in different directions: the dragon in her draws her into the woods, a place that is out of bounds to the villagers, and when the…
Hey guys, I know it’s been a while. Found this stuff I wrote in December 2012. Let me know your thoughts?
I think I love you
But I don’t know….
Maybe I love the idea of loving you
Of belonging and having
Of giving and surrendering
All and heart
I think that’s what I miss
I think of you a lot
I know you’re hurting, I think you’re hurting
And I want to make it better
I know you’re not…
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
I’m excited to reveal the cover for Book of Bart, a young-adult, humorous, satirical paranormal-fantasy by Ryan Hill, which is scheduled for release May 22nd, 2014.
Genre: young-adult, humorous, satirical paranormal-fantasy
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Date of Publication: May 22nd, 2014
Cover Artist: Conzpiracy Digital Arts
Only one thing is so powerful, so…