Target Practice

I was enticed by his poetic words fused with the art of imagination, only left to wonder what the reality would've been like, and with no hope of ever finding out. His rhythmic lyrics and wise words were bullets to my targeted insides. Each word, each statement, each connection, only getting closer to the bulls eye. I became a lifeless piece of paper full of bullet wounds. Each point of weakness shot down with precise accuracy. He could've been a Navy SEALs sniper with his skills, but he wasn't. He was a woman connoisseur, and he knew exactly how to win this battle. And just like the action heroes at the end of a movie, he walked away with his head high, and his back to the wreck havoc that he left behind. But what was he saving, and was his talent to obliterate necessary in this mission?

Random Freewrite

Ocean of Tears

As I feel on the verge of breaking down, I decide to shower. I convinced myself that if I put myself under the water head and cried, my tears would get lost among the water coming down my face. So I stand under the water, and the tears begin to fall, and as they make their way over my mountainous cheeks, and down my face, they reach the corners of my mouth. They sneak themselves inside, and make contact with my taste bugs, making sure that they're presence would be known....next time, I'll just take a trip to the beach. There in the ocean, their presence would be lost among its peers.


The Conversationalist

The man that I'll love will share endless conversations with me. In person, or through the sound waves of a telephone, or the screen of a computer or cellphone. We will indulge in discussions, explanations, stories, of fiction or non fiction topics or subjects, where imagination and reality will mix like the beautiful colors of a visible light spectrum. He will entertain my wild imagination, exploring my mind, and I would do the same with his. We will feed off each others statements and thoughts, never getting enough, and always wanting to want more. The man that I love will know how to equally balance listening, and sharing. Giving me just as much as I'm giving. This will be something I will find in the man that I'll love.


Scared of Lonely

I came along a terrible realization the other day. Something that shook me alert of a hereditary defect in my family. I looked about my uncles and aunts and I realized that out of the 14 aunts and uncles I have, only 1 has a perfectly functional family, the rest either never married, got divorced, and if they are married, its not a stable home. So statistically there is a 13% chance of having a perfectly functional family according to the patterns in my family. I began to wonder, where would I fall? Will I be one of the ones that end up being old and alone?


Last

It seems like all the good girls and guys end up finishing last. Yet, the bible says that the first will be last and the last will be first. Which I can relate. I always seem to be the first to love, the first to give, the first to get hurt. The first to love, and the last to be loved, if loved at all. So I guess I should switch sides now. Because I seem to always lose by being on the good side. Evil seems to always prevail. I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of being the good heart dumb-ass that gets taken advantage of. Tired of being the one who gets cut first, and last to move on. They say the last to laugh, laughs harder. But I have yet to see that happen.