With ease, she stared into his blood-shot eyes until they slowly closed forever. Onto my next hostage, she thought to herself. A smiled planted itself on her face as she walked into the night.

 

This is where our story begins, at the end.

 

She should have been terrified out of her life, her hands should have been shaking endlessly, but of course, that was not the case. Ruby felt as if she had cracked open a piñata and let all the goods endlessly spill out. She would never let it show. If you looked really closely though, you may have seen a smirk making its way on her face, just for a split second.

 

And now you’re wondering what it is exactly I am talking about. Three words: love, murder, repeat.

 

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“There’s blood, I don’t know how it.. please hurry.. he’s not breathing..”

“Ma’am, please slow down and repeat that. Who is not breathing?”

“My husband!” cried Ruby. “I got home from running errands and found him lying on the kitchen floor with blood everywhere. He killed himself.”

“Okay don’t worry. There will be a police car and an ambulance sent right away. Can you please tell me your address?” The voice on the other side of the line seemed almost panicked as if she had never received a call this horrifying.

“182 Shareway Street.”

“It’ll take five minutes. Until then, can you answer a few questions ma’am?”

”Yes, anything.” The shaking rhythm in her voice seemed perfectly rehearsed, but no one would know that other than, of course, Ruby herself.

 

She lied, the operator. It had taken the police seven minutes to arrive, not five. The banging sound on the door was like a director calling out “action” because just then, Ruby got herself in character. With tears all over her rose-tinted cheeks, she swung open the door as the rain pattered on the window sill of the kitchen. Jacob’s lifeless body lay there on the tiles in peace.

 

A stranger would have seen him as an innocent man who had taken his life, overdosed on anti-depressant pills, as the bottle lay beside him, empty. But at last, he was not innocent, and this was not a case of suicide. Jacob was a cheater and a victim of murder.

 

Ruby was taken to another room as officers and investigators did their job.

 

The final statement will say that Jacob had swallowed all thirty pills that were in the bottle and as he fell to the floor, his head smashed against the kitchen counter. This will all make sense since he, supposedly, was suffering from long term clinical depression. His last few moments on Earth were spent having a seizure.

 

Case closed.

 

Now you’re wondering where Ruby falls in all of this. So the truth? Here it is.

 

she was the perfect wife, one would say. Cooked and served Jacob dinner every night after he would arrive home. And Jacob, the perfect husband. He cheated again and again.

He was not depressed. Crushed and dissolved anti-depressant pills would travel down his esophagus for months and so for that long, a plan was in action. She would kill him, slowly.

Thirty pills of Trofanil. Ruby crushed all of them and slowly let them dissolve in the glass of red wine that would all be drank by Jacob.

 

“I’m sorry, you left me no choice,” Ruby whispered while the last drop landed on his tongue.

 

As the back of his head punched against the countertop, Jacob fell to the ground. His body, uncontrollably, began shaking and jerking as yellow froth crawled out from his mouth. His eyes turned ruby-red as purple veins made themselves visible on his temples and neck. He was having a seizure.

 

“You told me I was the only one in your eyes! You lied Jacob! You lied!” Tears welled in her sockets as Ruby watched her husband fight against his fate. His arms shot up toward the phone sitting on the table.

 

And then, the laughter.

 

”Why do you all make me do this to you? You’re what, my third victim? Fourth? Huh, seems I’ve lost count.” Her voice was as soothing as a siren in the middle of a never-ending ocean.

 

With ease, she stared into Jacob’s blood-shot eyes until they slowly closed forever. Onto my next hostage, Ruby thought to herself. A smiled planted itself on her face as she walked into the night.

 

Case closed.

Only In This Fantasy

 

Late at night

when thoughts sway together

in beautiful harmony,

that is when my

eyes slowly find the darkness.

All is black.

A spark flutters into view.

A shade of green

and another, purple.

Melodies begin to sing their tune.

A sky of baby blue appears.

I am now flying,

soaring into Earth’s atmosphere,

feeling the wind glide across my rosemary tinted cheeks.

This is where I dare to dream.

And in the morning, I shall return.

But when I do,

My soul will not float away into its kingdom of joy

My heart will not sing each and every tune of all the previous dreams.

Instead,

You will hear me say,

“A glass heart I carry,

guarding it with all that is left of me.

When it shatters you will see,

a tortured soul set free.

Only because a girl so fragile

guarded her heart too close.

She clenched it within her fists.

Into the abyss, away it broke.”

And when the time arrives

for my eyes to meet the darkness once again,

I shall search for a penny of love.

Only in my dreams is my soul set free.

Only in this fantasy, do I dare to dream.

 

I recently went through my writing journal and chose two pieces that I had started writing but never got to finish. I combined them and created this poem. It is short, however, I think it has a powerful hidden message. At first, it seems very light-hearted, as I am describing my happy place. That happy place, as a reader later finds out, is when I am dreaming at night. The mood suddenly shifts with the word “but.” From there, I describe the complete opposite, a broken soul. The poem still seems very harmonious especially with the rhyme scheme I add only in the section when I describe a broken heart. The ending combines both of the opposite worlds in a sort of confession. The message I wanted to get across through this poem is the idea of someone who is simply scared to be free. They want it so bad that they create a whole world full of possibilities. However, when it comes to reality, they can’t help but feel lost and broken.

And like the end of a torturous book,

you flipped through the lifeless pages once more,

closed it for the last time,

and put it back on the top shelf, third from the left.

You told yourself that by now,

after reading the same book for the hundredth time,

you’d have convinced yourself to forget the exact

placement of the book.

But you didn’t.

Top shelf, third from the left.

The repetition felt like a hallow thread;

the thin silk-like string of infinity

creeping along the crevices of your fingers

cutting through your skin, allowing the red to spill through.

This book of unrequited lovers crowds all your senses.

It toxifies the same blood in your veins that now is

spilling through the lines of your fingers.

Top shelf, third from the left.

You’ve positioned it correctly

but each word of each sentence of each chapter

is engraved in your head.

Like the lover himself.

And as you write the words with this red ink,

you wonder why only you seem to have the passion to read it.

Why not him?

Why not all the lovers that this book is dedicated to?

Because if they had even a fraction of desire to flip through

these pages as you do,

love would come spilling in and blessing every soul she touched.

And now you’re sitting here wondering why they

never want to hold it,

read it,

understand it.

Maybe it’s a language that their mind cannot comprehend.

Maybe each word is lost in translation.

Or

maybe they simply do not care enough.

Care enough to see a tortured soul

deprived of their love.

Now this “maybe”

is a hard pill to swallow.

Top shelf, third from the left.

I loved you,

but my love was just not enough.

 

My eyes glance around

Among the mist of gold.

They seek to attain the truth behind

The beauty of the unknown.

My ears grasp onto the sweetness of

Birds chirping their tunes

And the city waking up,

All wrapped within the sight of the moon.

I gaze at its vibrant shades

As it beams brighter than I’ve ever known.

Worlds of charm dive into one scene

Oh, the beauty of the unknown.

As my head tilts upward,

A treasure surely is hidden.

It fills the luminous sky,

Stars twinkling at their own rhythm.

For the desire of an unrequited lover,

They hopelessly linger on

To the moment when love bursts into their souls

Though they understand too well that moment is far gone.

And so, once again,

They become invisible

In the eyes of their lovers.

A thought so unthinkable.

And still,

They beat faster and brighter

With the fire that started within them,

The unrequited love that now is only a whisper.

It echoes far and wide,

Yearning to be heard once more.

Among the mist of gold,

I hear its battle in this war.

So many unanswered questions

Now sway around in a cyclone.

We live as if this is the only way.

Oh, the beauty of the unknown.

I slowly inhale,

While the world around me shifts its colours.

My mind understands that I will never know

The ways in which each soul differs.

And yet somehow,

I fall deeply every time

I see an unanswered question

In these pages between the lines.

Maybe one day I’ll know the truth,

But for now, I hang on

To the voices that subtly whisper

The pain behind every forgotten song.

Among the mist of gold

Every voice plays its melody;

Fragile enough to shatter at any second

Yet powerful enough to soothe all the tormenting tides of the sea

As the sun slowly makes its way

Into this scene of uncertainty,

I watch as its rays dive into

Each lonely branch of every tree.

My heart is suddenly warmed to the core

As a smile begins to plant itself on my face.

My hands sway around

I feel the love in this whimsical embrace.

The truth, I find,

Is hard for the human mind to comprehend.

And so we live with the beauty of the unknown,

Among the mist of gold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ever since I was a young child, I adored the majestic way Snow White would draw in sweet birds as they sung their melody. My seven year old mind was mesmerized by how these birds would ever so gently rest on her finger as a smile spread across her face. I really did wish to be able to accomplish this one day. And that one day, while not being anywhere near Snow White’s, did appear. Not as a fairy tale, however. Far from it. 

Walking to school every morning was a routine for my sister and I when we were younger since our school was two streets down. Our pathway consisted of us having to pass through two apartment buildings and beside them were many pine trees.

Every summer afternoon when we would walk home, my ears would always grasp onto the sounds of birds chirping and flying in and out of these trees.

One day in particular, my sister and I discovered a family of crows that had found their home in these trees. We were crossing the apartment buildings, as we did everyday. Right then, a huge crow flew right over us as we dropped our heads down low. I glanced over at my sister with a frightened look and only one word spilled out of her mouth,

“RUN!”.

I spun around to see another crow flying toward us, lower this time and at that moment, my sister grabbed onto me from my backpack and yanked it as hard as she could. My feet dragged across the ground as my body spun and ran behind her.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks and I kept turning my head to see how far we had gotten from the crows. One of them made its way right on top of my head. Screaming, I threw my arms up and began waving then back and forth in hopes of getting rid of this nasty beast. The only sound I could hear was of my heart beating faster than it ever had before.

My mind was so worried about making it out alive because I didn’t believe I would at all.

I did make it out alive. In fact I cried in my mom’s arms for hours. We didn’t go to school the next day because there was no way to walk through that street without getting attacked by crows.

I watched through the window as other children also ran for their lives while those birds chased behind them. We later discovered that the family of crows had a newborn baby and that was the reason why the father chased children to protect his child.

The weekend passed and then came Monday morning. My sister and I had decided that if the crows flew behind us, we would run back home. So there we were, two young children on our way to school through this frightening street, looking over our shoulders constantly. We tiptoed the whole way until we reached the other side, away from the view of any crows.

And as I finally took a deep breath and exhaled in assurance, on top of the street lamp a crow sat glaring at us. My sister motioned to keep walking and not glance up.  When enough time had passed, I turned my head to see the crow still sitting there, however not looking our way.

I was shocked that it didn’t attack us, but more so relieved. 

That afternoon we peacefully crossed through the apartment buildings without getting chased by those birds. They flew past us but didn’t come near us. When I got home and looked out my window, I was astonished to see children running as crows chased them.

My young mind, at that moment, felt like Snow White. I truly believed with all my heart that I had control over these majestic creatures and that they obeyed and respected me.

This was my Snow White moment, one I will never be able to forget.

It is all very strange. 

I have lived here

My whole lifetime,

But still feel as though I were a guest.

I glance around

To find it all changing,

Continuously,

Drastically.

This is still my home.

I do not know who I am,

However,

This body,

Its wall have kept me safe.

This soul,

Its love has given me comfort.

Me,

I am my home.

Whether or not I realize it every step of they way, 

Whether or not I feel content within this body, 

Deep inside, 

I know that this is where I belong.

This is where I shall return to 

Every time my heart breaks or my hands ache.

And at the end of the day when each soul has returned to its rightful owner

And love is only concealed,

No longer given,

That is when I will return to this space of comfort and warmth.

I will be on my own,

And on my own is exactly the way I want to be.

 

This is a small poem I wrote dedicated to myself and all the individuals who, at times, feel as though they don´t necessarily belong somewhere. At the beginning of my poem, I mentioned how I am finding everything around me as well as within me, constantly changing and moving around. This alone, is a lot for someone to deal with and so I really wanted to voice it from a loving perspective. The outside world is cruel and everyone is bound to get hurt. It is who you turn to for reassurance when you feel broken, that truly matters. However, I believe that finding the same love and comfort within yourself is so special and yet so hard to attain and lose. Reminding yourself constantly that you are your home is really important but sadly not done by many people. So this poem is to those individuals who feel lost and alone. Your true companion, the one who will be there for at the end of the day to hold your hand and comfort you, is yourself. Realizing this, will open pathways you never thought possible.