Biting and Gnawing

Photo by Daniel Jensen on Unsplash

Why can’t you be happy?

Why do you delight in others’ misery?

You can’t be happy for your friends?

You can’t stand when they are happy?

The pain of regret will come to bite you.

You will lose out and others will move on.

The cut will deepen as the time passes.

It will gnaw away at you until there is nothing left.

Your flesh will rot away as maggots eat you alive. 

It will fester and scab over, leaving you as horrid as you are now.

Opening again at each new sting.

The sting of pain and regret will eat at you,

gnawing away the new skin and devouring you whole.

The life of one with no happiness and the life of one who is not happy for others.

Is an empty, useless, decrepit life.


I look at you, and I see Penny.

I hug you and imagine it’s her.

I know this is wrong, but I miss her so much.

I know she would want me to love another dog.

I know she wants me to adopt more and love more.

It’s not fair to you to compare you to her.  

My Penny is gone and my Harper is here. 

I am sorry my dear, I love you too.

Saying goodbye is always so hard.

Scream and Yell

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Some might say I’m mean.

Some might say I’m loud.

People will say anything to hurt you.

They will make you question who you are,

And what you stand for.

They say you’re the mean one.

You might be loud and yell.

You might scream and curse,

But sometimes you need to.

You need to yell, scream, fight!

You need to be loud!

They may think you are being mean, but who cares!

When people are bullied, tormented, and wronged.

You have to stand up!

You have to give them a voice when they have none.

You have to yell, scream, and fight!

You have to stand up!

You have to give them a voice when they have none.

One Night

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One night, two people.

Calling me names, blasting me to others.

Some say it doesn’t matter.

I should forget it and move on.

It’s their loss and blah blah blah…


Why does it hurt so badly if all these other people say it shouldn’t.

Why am I the target? Am I weak?

Why is it so hard to walk away? Why do I want to keep talking?

And why do I get so angry? Why am I so hurt?

Each Morning

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Each morning the sun comes up.

A new blessing to the world.

Each day, a new beginning.

A joyous day to start a new

New promises, a chance to change.

Be a better person.

Make a difference in your life.

Make a difference in someone else’s life. 

Each morning the sun comes up.

A new blessing to the world.

You are the star shining bright.

Bring this light into the world.

It Hurts Like Hell

Photo by Claudia Soraya on Unsplash

It’s imperative to know how important you are.

Many people think they are important, they put themselves on pedestals.

You think you can count on certain people, but in the end, you can’t.

Sometimes the harsh reality hits you, and you realize how insignificant you are.

Or that you don’t matter to the people who matter to you.

The people you thought you can count on, the people that can count on you.

That foundation you built, comes falling down.

It’s important to know where you stand, but….

It hurts like hell… It hurts like hell.


Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I am the one that everyone forgets.

They say they don’t, but they do.

They say we missed you

But they don’t talk to me.

As soon as I come in, everything stops.

Am I a killjoy?

Do they just say they miss me because that’s what they are supposed to say?

How do you know someone is genuine? 

Because I just feel completely useless and forgotten.

And if I didn’t talk to them for weeks on end, it won’t matter.

I’m an outsider watching them.

I’m a loser sitting by myself.

And I don’t know what to do.

A Drift

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Lost in a drift.

Out to sea.

On my own.

It’s where I am meant to be.

I float aimlessly,

On my own.

Lost in a world,

A shadow over all.

People look on,

They wave as I float on.

But no one stops to pull,

Me from the water.

I drift on.

Some will say

The water is only,

In my mind.

Some will swear they called.

Out to me.

But in the end.

All is silent.

And Then There’s Me

Photo by Paul Garaizar on Unsplash

And then there’s me. 

Watching all of you. 

And I am left on the side looking on. 

With no one. 

Is the way others feel when they are left out.

We want to belong so badly and then troubled when we are not. 

Does the jealousy grow or just the feeling and fear of being forgotten?


Jealous of their happiness but you don’t want to be forgotten.

You watch the connections growing and you know they are not growing with you.

You pray that they would but you kid yourself.

You want it more and more but you can’t keep up.

You feel you are a failure and you just don’t know what to do.

You want to be this person but in truth you are not.

You have this picture of yourself in your head but it is not really you.

I want to be the kind of person people come to when they need help.

The person who doesn’t get mad but I see everyone leaving me behind.

I am not that person; I am jealous I get angry.

I wish I had the connections you have but I don’t.

I want to scream please, Don’t Forget Me but you do, anyway.

What the point of saying anything when I say it you push me away more.

Because I have already forgotten. 

Flight 532

There were 5 survivors, John, Abigail, Michael, Beth, and Lily.  Flight 532 took off with 200 passengers and no issues. The flight crew went through their routine as they always do. Nothing could have prepared them for what was to follow.  

Without warning, the plane lost altitude and crashed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.  The scene was horrific as passengers struggled to unfasten their seatbelts and free themselves from the sinking ship. Those who freed themselves had to swim away from the wreckage as it sank, pulling them under the water. The seawater filled their lungs; the pressure builds as plasma from their blood got sucked into their lungs preventing them from breathing. They drowned not only from the seawater but from their own blood that has now filled their lungs.  

Bodies washed up on the shore, still moving and struggling, but only 5 stood and walked to the stand.  

Those five did their best to help the dead, and the injured to no avail. The smell of blood and death in the water attracted the local sea life. Sharks and others came to feed on the victims. Soon the water turned red as the sharks fed on the remains.     

Lily did her best to help. The blood and gore didn’t bother her as much as it affected the others. “Oh, the blood. The sweet smell,” she thought as she wrapped the bodies for burial and placed them in their swallow graves.   

The others thought Lily was in shock or suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, but she wasn’t. Death excited her.  

They found shelter for the first night, but that first night was when the winds came.  A strong wind rushed through the beach and swayed the trees, calling to Lily. She moaned in her sleep as she heard the wind. “Lily…. Lily… come to me, Lily.” The voice grew louder, but Lily kept sleeping. The voice grew so loud that she put her hands over her ears to block out the sound, but still, the voice came.  

As much as she tried to sleep that night, the night the winds came, she kept having nightmares. The same nightmare kept repeating all night.  

In her dream, Beth was sleeping when a figure appeared before her. The figure, a shadow of a man, appeared to smile as it stood over Beth.  Beth woke with a start and screamed as the figure sliced her throat.  He continued to cut into her as the spray of her blood spewed from her body.  When the figure left, Lily crept over to her body as the man left. She ran her fingers through her hair and moved her fingers in her blood as if it were natural to do so. 

 “Sleep well,” Lily said with a smile. 

Lily woke painting feeling this sickening feeling come over her. Then in an instant, screams filled the air as the others woke, “Beth, Beth!” The others screamed as they searched for her. Only a pile of blood lay where Beth once slept.  

Blood covered Lily’s hands. She looked at them and then ran to the water to wash them.  “How could this be? It was just a dream, I told myself. Why were my hands covered in blood? Where did Beth go?”  When Lily finished, she returned to the group and helped them look for Beth, but they never found her.  

After a while, they had given up hope on finding Beth.  Lily sat on the beach staring at the waves, trying to push away this feeling of guilt. I smiled and laughed as she died. “What’s wrong with me?”  

 The next night the demon killed John. Lily laughed and danced around the tree as his feet dangling in the air.  Every night the demon killed another person, and the excitement in Lily grew with each kill. The dreams excited her.  The demon strangled Abigail. That one didn’t excite Lily as much as the other ones had. She found she enjoyed watching the blood pour from his victims far better.    He even let me cut off Michael’s head. Oh, how exciting it was to slice through his neck as the blood splatter upon her face. “Why am I acting this way?  Something or someone unlocked this my want for blood and death.”  

On the fifth day, the beach was silent when Lily woke. She was alone. The only sounds she heard were the lapping of the waves, the beat of her heart echoing in her ears, and the voice.  Still, the voice called to her once again. 

“Who are you?” Lily called out. “Why are you giving me these dreams?”  

The winds stopped as the voice fell silent. Lily was the only one left. Was this demon coming for her now? What did it want with her?    

Lily walked into the woods hoping to find what was hunting her and kill it before it could kill her. She found a stick and took out her red pocketknife. She sat on a nearby stump and sharped it, thinking she needed something to defend herself if she ran into this figure, this demon. 

She walked for hours as the sun rays burnt her back; Lily knew it was late afternoon.  She kept walking, thinking to turn around soon to be back at the beach by night, but then she came to what an abandoned cabin.  It was a wooden cabin, and the stretch of rotting flesh filled the surrounding air. It turned Lily’s stomach as she turned away to vomit. The smell before had excited her, but this was far too poignant.  She was not expecting the smell to be that poignant. As a few long moments, she regained her passion, her excitement, and explored the cabin.  

  She grabbed the doorknob but pulled away as blood was covering it. The blood shocked her, but it did not phase her. She entered the cabin and let out a gasp as I saw the bodies of my fallen peers hanging in various positions. Abigail sat in the center of the room in a rusted steel chair with straps confining her to the chair.  He displayed weapons of torture through the workshop.  Two clamps held Michael’s head as his body lay on the floor.  Beth lay on a table with straps across her body and poor John.  He dismembered John’s body and placed each body part in a glass jar. My hands shook as I examined the jars. This is insane. Get out! Get out now! 

Winds came rushing in behind me as the door opened.  I turned to see a figure standing there watching me.  “Welcome home, Lily. Are you here to join me or just watch as you do in your dreams?” He asked. 

The shadow moved toward me. “That’s a good girl. I can tell how excited you are. We’ve been waiting for you.”  

I smirked for I knew he will not kill me and will help him. I’m home.  

“Now go home and dream more victims up for me,” he commanded.  

The next morning, I woke back in my bed at home. “Was this a dream?” I wondered. 

I walked into my living room and turned on the news. 

The reporter spoke, “Yes that is correct 199 passengers on flight 532 confirmed dead.  

I gasped as I felt a cool breeze rush through my apartment. “Lily….” The voice was back. I turned around as the shadow figure was in my doorway.