Drama

Sometimes, it honestly seems like some people can’t cope without drama in their lives,

It gives them a sense of purpose,

Energy,

Belonging,

As long as someone else is being ridiculed it takes attention away from them,

By joining in the ridicule, they also get to  be part of the accepted group,

Even if that sense of inclusion is only in their heads,

 

I’ve fallen into this trap myself,

I was surrounded by people whose acceptance I craved,

I wanted them to like me,

So when they singled someone out for their derision,

I was quick to join in with them,

Even though I knew,

Deep down,

That I was not one of them,

It was hard for me to accept this at first,

I was in denial for months,

I ignored one comment after another,

It was harder to ignore the way everyone avoided me,

I was only a conduit for my roommate,

I only mattered if I knew where he was,

 

It was during this time I also noticed how quickly people follow a crowd,

My roommate was the most popular person on the floor,

He started hating someone,

So everyone else started hating that unfortunate person,

That person’s tics, habits, shortcomings,

Were magnified,

While the same ones were ignored in everyone else,

Even when I realized I wasn’t going to be accepted,

Part of me was happy that someone else was more maligned than me,

 

That was when I realized I wasted too much time trying to please these people,

Nothing I did was ever good enough for them,

And it took a while for me to realize that was fine,

For me to finally realize that I needed to branch out,

I wasted four months of my life in a miserable situation,

Before finding friends that I now cherish,

In  a way,

Those four months,

Saved me from wasting years

 

 

The Limit

Another day on the infinite treadmill,

Feeling like I’m only biding time until my death,

Spending 40 hours feeling hopeless, trapped

Surrounded by sycophants,

Idiots,

Whose voices and antics I have to endure,

So that I can save for a future I am unsure of,

The present is a torture chamber,

The future is an abyss,

The past is a fountain,

I look back at all the hope,

Dreams I once had,

Feeling like I had the world figured out,

Only to be assaulted by reality,

Feeling it chip away at confidence,

Hope,

Ambition,

I’m stuck,

Hearing of other people’s happiness,

Wishing that they could share theirs with me,

Work

Tethered to my leash,

Trapped in my cell,

Surrounded by cacophony,

Ringing phones,

Grating voices,

Verbal tics,

Trapping me for hours at a time,

Sinking into the quick sand of this world,

My body’s slowly breaking down,

One day I’ll be nothing but compost,

A part of the fertilized ground that the next herd feeds from,

 

Cell

Time has no shape,

Yet I always try to imagine what it would look like if it had one,

It’s power makes me think of something big,

A powerful beast,

A rhino,

A bull,

But that wouldn’t be right,

Time isn’t a behemoth that overpowers the things around it,

It is something much smaller,

That adapts to any climate,

Attacking everything in its path,

Time is no different than bacteria,

In everything,

On everything,

It can help us,

Save us,

But it can also destroy us,

Eating away at health and leaving death in its wake,

Delivering death in a smaller,

Slower, more painful package

 

My Mind

Hello everyone,

Sorry for a long gap in posting. A lot of things have come up this week, but no excuses. Back to it with a piece inspired by one of the shorter poems I posted to my @wmoviegrapevine instagram. A lot has been going through my head recently and I have been working on managing stress and expectations, so I felt like doing a piece on the mind was appropriate. Since I post a lot of pieces to instagram that never get posted anywhere else I figure that I may start posting more original pieces on the site.

stairwell

********

I am still trying to navigate the maze,

The labryinth,

Dark recesses,

Patches of blinding light,

Flat land,

Steep mountains,

Sheer cliffs,

The mysteries of my mind continue to elude me,

Its terrain changes with each smile or frown I see,

With every word of encouragement,

With every insult,

With every success,

With every failure.

 

Time

It keeps slipping through my fingers,

An hour wasted in the black hole of YouTube,

Or maybe Instagram,

The 40 hours spent in an office I want to escape,

Leaving feeling drained,

Promising myself I will do more when I get home,

Or on a free day,

Then only taking the time to relax,

Which makes me feel guilty,

So I try to work,

When I don’t want to,

Wasting more time,

Neither relaxing or working,

This is the cycle I’m stuck in,

That needs to be broken,

For me to become the best I can be

 

Hunter

Hello everyone,

I’ll be doing a review of Preacher for comicommand, which should be up on the site early next week. I am currently reading The Boys and will be writing a piece on that next week as well. I found 100 Bullets to be somewhat overrated but I loved Preacher and I am also loving The Boys so far. With that prelude, I present a poetry piece for you all, which is inspired by an earlier post on my @wmoviegrapevine (instagram).

The next blog post will be on Monday. Have a great weekend.

***************

My legs were burning almost as much as my lungs,

I couldn’t hear it behind me anymore,

Yet I knew it was still there,

I could feel its eyes watching me,

Looking around,

I could only see trees,

Dark towers illuminated by the moonlight,

Dry leaves shuffled under my feet,

A tell-tale sound that would give me away,

 

I moved on my toes,

Hiding behind the nearest tree,

If I couldn’t see it,

It had to be far behind,

It would give itself away as it made its way closer to me,

When it got close enough,

I would slip away in another direction,

I tried to steady my breath,

 

One minute passed, maybe two

My legs were still sore,

My breathing was slowing down,

My lungs and heart were relaxed once more,

Until I heard dry leaves behind me,

Less than fifty feet away,

It didn’t make sense,

I should have heard the steps sooner,

I looked to my left,

Barely holding back a scream as I saw a paw land on the grass beside me.

 

 

 

 

Alive: Part V

Hello everyone,

This piece will conclude the Alive series. I have finished a draft of The Visitor, and plan to start editing it in two weeks. I want to let it sit for a little while so I can return to it with fresh(er) eyes.

*******

The six-foot thick sheet of glass fell to the ground,

The scientists already vacated the room,

But their scents lingered,

Forming a trail that I could easily follow,

There was a door on the left side,

I knew I couldn’t fit through it,

With one slap I tore down the brick wall around it,

Showering the ground with tiles and revealing a hallway that led to the surface,

I could see the scientists now,

Running as fast as their legs would carry them,

They were about fifty feet ahead of me,

While a line of armed soldiers were less than ten feet away,

 

I screamed as a barrage of bullets hit me,

With the scream coming out as a growl,

Bullets pierced my chest, arms, legs,

I fell to the ground,

Knowing what the soldiers would do next,

They kept shooting for a few seconds,

More bullets hit my skull,

Grazing the skin but failing to break through the thick bone,

I barely refrained from smiling as I heard the click of empty magazines,

 

My body was already expelling the bullets,

Slowly pushing them out to make way for new muscle,

The pain would persist for several hours,

My mind would block it out,

My body was ready,

I leapt off the ground,

Swinging my right arm in an arc,

My claws severed necks,

Cleaved skulls,

Lacerated faces,

Five hits,

Five soldiers dead,

 

One more problem to take care of,

I waited a few more seconds,

I could feel some of the bullet holes were healed,

There were just a few more to go now,

One bullet was still being dislodged from my left knee,

Tearing through nerves and veins as it made its way out,

I heard it hit the ground,

Then I could feel my muscles stretching to sew up the hole,

I planted my legs beneath me,

Feeling their strength,

Knowing that I was ready,

 

I pushed off,

Sailing over the soldier’s bodies,

Another leap,

Then another,

The gap between the scientists and I continued to dwindle,

I could only make out grey figures with my eyes,

But my nose and hearing showed me more,

Their coats flapping,

The rhythm of their steps,

Sweat on their skin,

The scent of food on their tongues,

 

With ten leaps,

There was food on my tongue,

I tore through the first scientist’s shoulder,

My teeth collided with one another,

Rattling my jaw,

Compressing bone and flesh,

The man’s scream was almost deafening to my ears,

So I brought my right paw onto his head to silence him,

I felt his skull flex under the weight before it stretched and crushed his brain,

As I raised my paw,

His head was a single splatter on the metal floor beneath me,

Three more to go,

They were all running at a similar pace,

Separated by only a few feet,

 

Five leaps,

One swing of my right arm,

Two more carcasses,

I wanted to take my time with the last one,

He was the mastermind behind my imprisonment,

I wanted him to stare into Frankenstein’s eyes before he died,

Two more leaps,

A claw tore through his Achilles tendons,

Sending him crashing to the ground,

 

I heard screams again,

So loud, so grating,

Worse than gunfire,

The mastermind kept moving forward,

Trying to crawl to safety,

I slid a paw underneath his chest,

Lifted my arm to effortlessly flip him onto his back,

 

He saw me now,

Red eyes,

Bloodstained teeth,

Five hundred pounds of fur-coated muscle,

The scent of urine became more pungent,

The screams died down to a whimper,

Tears mixed with sweat,

Forming a tapestry that I found deeply satisfying,

Not because of the smell itself,

But what it signified,

The mastermind now realized that I was not his pet,

I was his damnation,

 

My teeth tore through his face,

Penetrating his eyes, mouth and skull,

As I pulled my teeth away,

I could only make out a severed neck beneath me,

A macabre fountain that was decorating the ground with coppery blood,

 

The scientists picked this area because it was remote,

Now that would be their undoing,

The sun wouldn’t come up for eight more hours,

My new body would carry me far away by then,

To freedom,

To peace.

 

 

Alive: Part IV

Hello everyone,

In my previous post, I discussed my intention to try to get published through poetry or short stories so that I have more credentials to my name before I try to get my books (Elseworld and The Visitor) published again.

I am thinking that I might turn the Alive series into a short story and then try to submit that to contests or magazines. The title comes from a Kid Cudi song that  focuses on a metaphorical nighttime transformation into a beast. Lyrics such as “everytime, the moon shines I become alive” also allude to a werewolf transformation and I knew that I wanted that title before I finished the first part.

Below is part IV, which will be followed by the conclusion in Part V.

************

werewolf_tattoo_idea_by_spdmngtruper-d6gwr9b
The room was designed to be soundproof,

But nothing could stop me from hearing breathing and feet shuffling in the next room,

The rapid, panicked breathing gave way to speech,

Plans to subdue me, use me,

They thought they were in control,

I volunteered for this,

Knowing I would be closer to the people in power,

I would get to sever the head from the beast,

Before I made my escape,

 

I could smell traces of urine now,

I could smell bullets too,

The scent stuck with me from the time when ten of them were embedded in my flesh,

It didn’t kill me, but it still hurt,

There was a one-way mirror blocking me from the scientists,

I walked over, with my longer legs carrying me there in two steps,

I took a deep breath, feeling my enlarged lungs burn as I inhaled,

The speech from the other end became louder,

Everyone was being assured that I couldn’t break through,

I smiled, bearing my teeth for the audience on the other end,

I could barely see them reflected in the glass,

White, foot-long daggers that could tear through flesh like butter,

 

I raised my right hand,

I didn’t clench since  it would cause my claws to bury themselves in my palm,

With my feet planted,

I brought my right hand down on the glass,

I knew it must be bulletproof,

I could feel how dense the glass was,

The leaders took precautions with me,

But not enough,

I started to push,

Driving from my legs,

Feeling the sheet of glass slowly begin to slide out of its frame,

There was plenty of strength to spare,

But I wasn’t in a rush,

No head start could save the leaders from me,
There were more words now,

Escape plans, prayers,

All futile,

They wanted the beast,

Now he was knocking at their front door.

 

werewolf-zoppy

 

Images:
http://zoppy.deviantart.com/art/Night-Werewolf-348063640

http://spdmngtruper.deviantart.com/art/werewolf-tattoo-idea-391199231