The neighborhood was silent. There wasn’t a soul around this eerie town and the sun hadn’t peaked out of the clouds for days. The darkness of the land had swallowed the smiles of the population and nature had ceased to show its existence. The birds must have migrated early. The wind disrupted the branches of every tree that was in front of the houses; it left only the whisper of its presence behind.
Shadow’s alarm clock blared at the appropriate time of eight in the morning and he grunted at its ignorance. His girlfriend, Jessie, didn’t seem to care too much about his morning laziness. He didn’t even bother turning off the alarm. He simply rolled on his opposing side to ignore it. That seemed to require a larger effort than if he’d just gotten out of bed. Jessie remained motionless and wasn’t snoring like she usually did. She wore a long sky blue nightgown to bed and it brought out the true color of her blondish hair. She was lying on her stomach and her hands were tucked underneath the fluffy pillow. Shadow just peered at her through the crack of his eye as the sound of the alarm clock withered away his patience. Shadow heard his three-legged basset hound, Tripod, hobble to the nightstand and he began to lick Shadow’s left foot that was hanging out of the white silky bed sheets. The saliva dripped towards the floor and the grossness of the dog’s actions still wasn’t enough to get Shadow’s dead *** out of bed. The dog realized it had no affect on him and left the room.
Shadow had just gotten fired from his job as a technical engineer at a no-name computer store. He put computers together with both new and used parts and resold them to the customers. When he told Jessie, she was not supportive at all. They didn’t speak all last night and Shadow couldn’t imagine how this morning was going to go- another “Yes, MOTHER” conversation. He always had a problem with his temper. All hell broke loose when shadow didn’t get his way, but you’d think he had been taught not to swear at his boss when he got angry. Well, on the contrary his mind and anger had gotten the best of him. Guess Shadow saw that there was no reason for him to get out of bed. But his three-legged dog seemed to think so. He kept ignoring Tripod for some time and he **** all over the rug as a result of it.
Shadow felt a discomfort among his genitals as he stumbled to his feet to go to the bathroom. He concocted his usual bowl of cereal once he reached the kitchen across the hall and slurped up every last drop of milk. He thought distressingly about what Jessie was going to bring on him this morning. The sounds of static and distorted voices echoed through the room from the television- he walked back into his bedroom to get dressed. Shadow called out for his dog.
The job wasn’t so good anyway. Shadow was displeased with his boss from the beginning but he knew he needed to receive the checks- the pay was so good. He always had a passion for building computers and when he first explored this field, Spot would sit and watch Shadow build. Spot was his first dog, around the time when he was a teenager. He would sit there until Shadow was done and that might’ve been what caused him to like building them so much- it was the memory.
Shadow continued to call for Tripod but there was no response. The aroma of the dog **** grew more and more noticeable. The doors were closed so there was no doubt he didn’t escape again. He ran all around the house, opening doors and calling outside for him; peaking behind the furniture and the clothes within his closets for him. He spotted the pile of dog **** on the living room floor.
“What are you doing, Shadow?” Jessie asked.
“I am looking for the **** dog. He **** on the rug again.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jessie.
“OUR dog!??” said Shadow.
The air began to blow through the rooms of the house and the papers that were neatly stacked on Shadow’s desk began to fall to the floor. Jessie sat up in bed and the wind carried her hair across her scull and it made her look even more beautiful than ever. Her hazel-green eyes remained staring a Shadow with the same goofy look of concern but she still looked beautiful.
“I don’t know if I’m alright. My face hurts…” said Shadow.
“Shadow, I DID hit you pretty hard last night. Remember?” asked Jessie. “I threw that little book-end at you and it hit you in the cheek bone. I didn’t mean it, I AM sorry.”
“It’s fine, Jess. I was being a ****. But really, where’s the dog?”
“I don’t know, he’s you’re dog. Let me get dressed and I’ll help you look for him,” said Jessie.
The window shades were pulled up so the light could shine throughout the house but there wasn’t much light to affect anything. It was still dark and moody in the sky and the storm was still passing though the area. Shadow had to turn every light on in the house to see, even though it was ten in the morning. He knew he needed to find a job, but he wanted to find this dog. He ran around the house looking for every trace of dog fur. The sounds of Jessie getting dressed were coming from the closet.
“Could you hurry up and help me, honey? I need to find this mutt,” said Shadow.
Shadow had given Jessie a special license plate for her birthday last year. It said “Jessie” on it and it was very hard to get. He had to call months in advance to purchase that plate. It was now implanted on his silver Jetta. Shadow’s job was right down the street, so he just rode a bike to work every day and let Jessie use the Jetta.
The job Shadow had used to drive him crazy. He’d work for hours on fixing or building motherboards and if it didn’t work, he’d have to start over. He’d come home in the worst moods after a hard day’s work. He didn’t want dinner; he didn’t want to hear from anybody, though Jessie liked to talk. And that’s where Shadow got very aggravated. He began to yell at her because she asked him questions and he would kick over Tripod’s food and water and storm out of the house in a rage; leaving the front door open behind him. But Shadow didn’t leave last night. He wasn’t the one who stormed out in a rage because he was too tired for that. Jessie left with the dog and claimed she was going to stay at her mother’s for the evening. They must have come back in the house late last night. The dog must be here. Shadow and Jessie kept looking for Tripod while calling out his name to come in sight. Tripod finally walked through the door form the back yard and barked a weak screeching bark.
“It’s about time, Podders! It’s about time we accomplished that dilemma” said Shadow as he looked up at Jessie and back at Tripod.
“What the ****?!” he said. The dog had blood all around his gumball nose and his droopy lips and walked away from them into the bedroom.
“I give up,” said Jessie. “You gotta clean that dog up because I am not going to go near that Blood; I already cleaned up the dog ****. What has he been through?”
“I don’t know…” answered Shadow.

In the mean time, I’m going to go shopping for some new shoes,” Jessie. “I’ll be back later this afternoon, alright?”
Shadow sat on his favorite recliner chair in the living room. She kissed his forehead, grabbed her keys and walked out the front door.
There was silence. He was alone.
Shadow immediately got up and opened the front door to grab the daily town newspaper from the steps. He noticed that the Jetta had already left the driveway and wondered why Jessie must have been in such a hurry. He looked down the gloomy dark street and saw no sign of life. He closed the front door, locked it, and sat back down on his recliner. He unfolded the newspaper and wiggled his toes to the melody of his improvisational hum.
The hum suddenly came to a halt. The toes stopped wiggling. Shadow didn’t seem to breathe. He read the front page of the news paper and couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a Jetta- or maybe it wasn’t because it didn’t look like one. Maybe that was the point. There was no hood; there was no front seat. There were two photos: one of the car and one of the whole accident. A Tractor trailer was involved and no one in the Jetta made it. Shadow started to breathe slightly again and came to his senses; tried to collect himself. He saw the license plate and couldn’t believe his eyes.
There was silence. He was alone. He was alone the whole time.

La Ratita Presumida
“... y sentia muy feliz. Pero al terminar, el gato se lanzo sobre ella para comer se la. La Ratita lorgo escaper y aprendio a no fiarse de la aparencias”

Generally speaking, the most romantic matters take place beneath the moonlight. It shone down on the city of Barcelona that night with a certain intention, a mysterious plan. She went out for a cigarette, or a “thought” as she liked to think of it, her soul already marinating in a bottle of cheap, red wine.  She let the moonlight pour its possibilities upon her skin as she exhaled into the night.

It was this recipe:
¾ bottle of red wine,
1 pack of Marlboro Lights,
a pinch of red lipstick and
a dash of moony-mist  

on the dimly lit terrace that started it all.

Just then, a tall, blondish, smart looking guy walked into the room. She felt as though she could see the weight of his brain sitting in his head. Almost visible were the synapses firing within.

He spoke so smoothly, in a comforting, southern accent.
His words cast visions of sunsets,
surrounding her
in an unfamiliar, yet soothing
warmth.
She drew closer.
His southern spark lit her cigarette and
with that flick of the match,
an immediate magic ignited between them.

They spoke of Matthew Macconaughy, death and anxiety... death by anxiety, art and music and love and lust.

lovelustlovelustlovelustlostlove

“Just come with me,” he said,  “I’m not expecting anything... we’ll get brunch!” , he said. Ooooooh that’s a mighty word there, “BRUNCH”.

“Brunch”,
A word capable of bringing this girl,
to her knees
~the birds and the bees~
she left with him.
                                                              ..­.

“You had me at ‘brunch’.”
They took a cab to his shoebox-sized flat in Gracia, “the best neighbourhood of Barcelona by far”. They linked lips, caressed, clutched each other’s flesh and faded into one as the sun began to rise.
                                                           ­   ...
The sun came beating through the dungeon –like windows of the shoebox-shaped room. The laundry hanging outside-as it must in this city- cast shadows across their naked skin. It appeared to be dancing quite joyfully, despite the intensely hung-over state of the two strangers that lay entangled amongst the sheets.
As promised, BRUNCH ensued.  They chatted, and laughed and flirted. They shared secrets that no one else knew.

“I like your brain”, he said.
                                                               ...
In the weeks to come they spent every waking moment of each weekend in each other’s company. The rest of the time was spent as the charismatic protagonist in the day dreams of the other one’s mind.  

Hospital General, Sant Cugat Del Valles, Valldoreix, La Floresta, Las Planes, Baixador de Vallvidrera, Peu del Funicular, Reina Elisenda, Sarria, Les Tres Torres,  La Bonanova, Muntaner, Sant Gervasi, Gracia, Provenca,  Passeig de Gracia, Placa Catalunya.

The Trains chugged on
And on
And just remember it’s hard to stop a train...

Gracia -the best neighbourhood in Barcelona- sang like a bird in her ear and a sore thumb pressing its weight into her aching heart.  

Take me Spanish Caravan, yes I know you can...
...I know where treasure is waiting for me
Silver and gold in the mountains in Spain
I have to see you again and again.

Take me Spanish Caravan, yes I know you can.
                                                           ­        ...
That dreaded, dreary morning, the rain beat down. The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plane -Or all over, really.

She helped him stuff his damp laundry
into his star-spangled suitcase,
himself into her...




He came,
she left, and so did he.




*I'd like to see you again
and again.

Dust to dust...makes tangible the blondish
breakdown of sun.
The choreography of neutered marauding...
ever amicable to rondure of skull.
The seeping pull of an ever foreign wind...
dust to dust.

Magical silence of Midnight..
as we ponder moments of life.
Solemn  thoughts at tranquility..
Virtues guiding our pursuit..
Images of distant loves..blurr our waning thoughts..
Envisaged You through virtual reality
of thirty years or some more
so ago,
I haven't encroach Thy heart
to no one but You.
A rare bloom floret to my sight!
Beauty Ahah!,,I cant resist this thorn in my Rose Garden.
"And tempted by the charming fragrance of
the blooming gardener".- whom He divulged:
                "Purple bloom reflects a purple heart that expresses love unsurpassed,,,I am writing these words  with my crimson blood ,, to equal thy charm the glow of your love"
He recounted to me over.
Then I know I behold to keep it in my
cognizant jeweled mind, oh so dear.
With my long blondish brown hair
swaying softly cool but warm.
Truly though agitated by the
earthly abating absence-
of Your tangible touch.
Unsurpassed by my astral dream
with much ado!
Gladly remembering You,
in my fervent thoughts.
Thereby cherishing you
on times when things make sense
to me-
out of distress,
to madness so unlikely permeates.
When I am down in anguish, I couldn't weather!
                      "Let the beauty of the woven words ,,
                        guide Your day into fruitfulness, so deary,
                        "Let the rhythm and cadence gives You music in Your restlessness."
  Sir I said, ' I love You" withal affirms..
                       "Let the laughter of my jokes, '
                         lighten Your burden, ease Your yoke,
                       "Let the fire of fiery words be Your armor n silent sword!"
Woe to me as I heed to hearken and thirst for more!
                       "Let d spell of Your poignant smile,,
                         fills my cup instead of wine,,so that I may lie in deep slumber
                         as I gulp Your sweet nectar so divine!"
                         T'is lady  Rose ( scientific name liigaiea vellenoeva) is the best
                         of them all,,
                       I wanna pick her!'
He likewise and inadvertently  told thine.
Along came my sweet behold, I so to keep.
Love such a splendor, undeniably volatile,
in total intimacy desperately onto
conjures.
Yodeling and Yonder fire churning escapades,
To someday crossed our paths
should not perish, So afar!
I beseech thee, make me a swell great day!
Even though  fuming flowers and bees so abounds!
In a ROSE  minted heartland
truly endowed.
Thy thorn so stuck amidst for
You and me
For every storm to grasp its thrushes,
Be res-assured nifty and dandy
For you my daddy
to come Home to,
and hangout together.
That pokes and pukes
Lingered though day in day out,
colloquially.
From jive to logic.
From sane to insanity.
Only one soldered Thorn sojourns!

Pink hair she stands in front of me
She looks back smiles at me
Tells me how pretty I am
Not even half a minute later
I put earbuds in and she tells her friend
What a freak.

Blondish Brown hair sits near me
Tells me how glad she is we are friends
I think wow I’m so glad too
Life without her would be so dull
She’s my rock and gets me to do fun things.

The scary part is these people are the exact same people just a year difference in time.

I found a strand of hair in the sand
from yesterday or maybe the day before
or before that, it's hard to remember anymore
the days suffocated by the rememberance of the waves
ourselves buried in the sand

Oh, the endless grains of sand!
of this chilly lonely Mexican beach
it's hard to un-remember what we built
what has now whithered in the autumn gusts
the castles have crumbled

we built them from sand, from scratch, from hand
added sweat-salt-water to strengthen the palaces
placed them near the shore or else it was no fun
let waves ride the moats and brush against the walls
prayed the castles would last the night

as we danced through the smokey fog
bathed in crimson candlelight
and sang until our harmony
resonated with the crash of the waves
and the constant being of the beach

we slept to remember and woke to forget
buried our regrets in the sand
and washed our hands in the water
and then ran to our castles
and prayed they had lasted the night

and sometimes they had, and sometimes they crashed
but now I see it didn't matter in the end
because none of them lasted forever
and no one remembered anything anyway
and beaches are only for vacations

though I am not a man who forgets ecstasy
or sees any need in leaving the beach
or likes the way the leaves look during autumn
or wonders what else there is but the sun
or needs to love the way most people love

so I lie on this beach, alone, sand to my knees
watching the waves graze over castle graves
finding seventy degrees to be too cold
carving my name in the shore
and watching the ocean erase what I've made

as I wrap this blondish strand around my finger
and try to remember who you might have been
and who you might be now
and if I met you in the sand
and if we will ever meet again

though, surely, we will not
because of course I am not still in the sand
a man needs to feed his family doesn't he?
as he wonders if he'll ever come back
or if the castle walls will last

it's too easy to daydream these days
office walls cloud ambition
and coffee cups burn my tongue
and early mornings swallow all my beliefs
they don't let me sleep, but I still dream

of a time when only waves tell time
as they curl in and out, but stay in the same place
so that we never age and only dance
make castles of sand with our fragile hands
watch them last, watch them crash

burn our memories in bonfire pits
but know that since time does not exist
each moment can be lived just like the sand
endless and amorphous and warm
and our harmonies will match the sound of the waves

and love everything but need only the sun
and sleep to dream and wake to love
and pray the castles last the night
but care not if they do
because there will always be another day

as I bang my claws into the walls
of this ******* cubicle, my head
aching from all this ******* coffee
my chest in a butterfly knot
my skull in a maze

it's hard to breathe here
the air isn't as fresh
and my lungs don't want to much
and my heart doesn't want to pump
my blood, which has gone stale now too

as I clench my fists, squeeze out my rage
knowing this is it
un-remembering the waves
praying the castle walls will last the night
but knowing my place

because beaches are only for vacations
and after all, it was only sand
and after all, these are only hands
and after all, I am only man
and after all, I am only sand

Curly, blondish wild hair!
Crown upon my head!
Forever you will be there
Even when I'm dead.
My soul will leave my carcass
But you will still live on.
In the depths of San Marcos
You can weave my life a song.
You will be my jester
And my throne-side sword as well.
If I'm sent back to years of yester
Or if I'm in hell.

So, don't you see her pain?
You've always been  observant
Can't you see the sick look of pain in her eyes?
After all, you're the cause
Your pretty eyes, curtain of *****-blondish hair
Sweet smiles, irresistable scent, soft touch
Your ingenuity, intelligence, creativity, and kindness
Don't you know that's why she fell for you?
She doesn't blame you for this split
But can't you see that hurts her more?
She's got to be strong, got to hold it in for you
And for her own sanity, but oh the irony
So you can sort yourself out, fix your problem,
Don't you know she hasn't cried
Hasn't screamed out, tried to smile, for your sake?
She knows your problems must be big
Big enough to hide it from her, to retreat
To ask for a break that you vowed against
She's trying like she always has for others
Confused, hurt, but mostly worried and longing
So for her, be okay, and return
She doesn't hate you

I  was packing up my room because I am getting ready for my big move to college life, when I came across an old journal. It was a little gem I left for myself to read; I was a little hesitant to read it, to be honest! The first entry is December 10, 2008. I describe how I am 12 years old girl, who has blondish brownish hair (of course I spelt brown with a d), and who has a good personality. Okay good start, nothing too crazy. I then go on for the next few pages describing my love for the book, wait for it, it’s actually a classic, “Twilight.” Yeah… I didn’t realize how much I loved that book back then. So anyways after I skim past the “Twilight” rants, I discover something that shocked me. It’s a page titled, “My Goals!” Awesome! What can a 12 year old girl possibly have goals for (being in twilight movie maybe?). I wish I could say it was something fun like that. Instead, 12 year old me, wrote
Lose Weight. (of course followed up with…)
Become a teacher.
Talk to Matt (with a line through it! good job little Dottie!)
Get a Job.
Read and see all series of “Twilight.” (nailed it!)
Become a singer.
Become a actor.
Why would a 12 year old have their first goal be to lose weight? I have always had issues with my weight, but reading that goal made me want to hug 12 year old me. I didn’t realize how much my problems with weight affected me until I saw that list. If I could go back and talk to 12 year old me it would go something like this,
“You are beautiful. You’re writing is far past your years. You have great friends who don’t look at your outer beauty but rather who you are on the inside. You are most definitely not fat, and losing weight should be the furthest thing from your mind! Now is the time to discover who you are! Love yourself more because you’re much more than weight.”

I still struggle with my weight, but I refuse to let it defy me. It shouldn’t defy you either. Eat healthier, make smart choices, and never give up. Don’t let yourself hold you back, let alone anyone else.

Larkspur rose with azure head
in that blondish vacancy
by the metro line:
you were a summer.

But now those withered faces
are mute, closed for business,
peacock's burst plumes:
you are a winter.

My name is Aura
My classification is **** Sapien
But what am I?
I have reddish-blondish-brownish hair
I have green eyes and precious skin
But what am I?
I like to read
I like to create art
I like to waste time on the internet
But what am I?
I live on planet Earth
at least, that's what I'm told...
But what am I?
I feel a strange serenity when I am in the forest,
listening to the calls of the wild
I can understand them
the trees
the birds
the other creatures living
I am not from here.
I do not belong on such a planet of destruction and chaos
But
this planet also has much beauty
Beauty that I thrive in
I originate from somewhere beautiful
somewhere pure
somewhere untouched by mass technology and war and famine and pain
I originate from somewhere built on Love
Oneness
Beauty
Acceptance
There are others here, that come from the same place i do,
and I think I have found them.
But
What
Am
I
?

There's a cat on the coffee table
but my coffee's in my hand.
Why is that?
The coffee in my hand is shaking
while the cat is steady as can be.
I'm wide awake
while the table's peacefully asleep.
Maybe that's why.

There's a dog on the floor
but my feet are on the couch.
Why is that?
The floor never moves
though the couch gets shoved about.
The floor is firm, determined
while the couch is soft and pliant.
Maybe that's why.

My sister's in the kitchen
but I am in the living room.
Why is that?
My sister has purple hair
though mine remains a drab blondish.
My sister's still in middle school (eighth grade)
while high school has taught me harsh realities.
Maybe that's why
the dog follows her
and my cat's asleep on the coffee table.

father-watching
faraway
triggered sweet by
memory plucked
from twinge of
heart at
husband whiskers
sprinkled in
the sink

​
father
slow transforming
out of sight
whisker white
a-creep through
long-time
beard of boyish
blondish-brown
​

sprouting
scraggled out from
ear and nose
and knuckle
round
​

eyes a-cave
and sunken deep
in shaded-over
cavities
​

for inward looking
more than
out


with no more
footballs
flung
about
​

and no more
children yanking
on the waking hours'
daggy trousers


for weeping
over old-time
music secret
in the dark


up with the
birds
down with
the sun


midlife
rush at last
a-hush and
calm in its
surrender
done


bones exposed
of parenthood
held frail a-clung
by gristle grey of
simple habits


coffee thick
and silky
run with
milk


and crispest
crusty bread
torn up
for dipping into
hearty stock


with olives
cheese and
ham on top


a drop
of something
oaky sipped
and languished


a-crawl with
thoughts of
father own
disintegrating


boyhood memories
coddled close
and satiating


with daughter
unbeknownst
father-watching
faraway


© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield

I watch her in the corner of my eyes
Often looks can lie
She is beautiful in so many ways
I could get high off her looks for days
She has blondish hair
Looks around the room without a care
I know people stare
They watch me to
There disgusted by what they think I do
They are not right
No conclusions should be drawn from sight
She has short hair
A look of dare
A face that says everything
Her voice is beautiful and rings
She stays there like a stone
Beautiful and alone
I yearn to speak to her
But I don't have the nerve
It's not a good time, nor place
But yet again I look at her face
I would never know what she was like
Again I am just a ****
A crushing hard ******
Nobody ever knows
They are all fantasy
Never reality
I've always made things bad
Made my girl sad
I am done trying
Never knowing what these girls keep seeing
I'm a moody *****
Half the time I want to go die in a ditch
I take pills every night
Drink until I see the morning light
What do they see
All I see is worthless me
Never meant much
My ex said don't talk such
She said I cause the pain
I say I'm just on the verge of going insane
And anyways half the girls I have liked have been straight
In the end I found it to be great
At that I roll my eyes
Every time a bit of me dies
An I love you
Then a babe do you know what I do
The sad truth
It still kills me
And makes me be
The ***** who's moody
Who nobody really sees
I cry at night
Am growing less acquainted with the light.
I am going back to dangerous ways
Cutting my wrists with a blade
Today it bleed all morning
That was fun to hide.
I went in the bathroom to wash it
Watched a girl stare horrified and just shrugged.
Nothing left to loose.
I don't really have anyone except maybe Em and a few others.
Gosh if she knew how much she helps.
I feel like I don't show her enough.
Enough emotion and change.
I know I hurt her.
If she ever reads this I want her to know that no I am not okay.
Yes I look up to you everyday.
You made me out down the knife.
You saved my life.
Multiple times you've showed me light.
You've talked me out of suicide late at night.
That means so much you don't have a clue,
Emily just how much I love you.

Five years ago I fell in love

I met a man with blondish hair,
blue/green eyes
and a smile that could make any human heart race like crazy
I had no idea that man I met would come into my life and stay

Four years ago I fell in love

I developed a crush on the same man I met
but his heart was taken by another woman
I had it set into my mind that because of this
I would never get the chance to be with him
Little did I know that fate had other plans

Three years ago I fell in love

This man and I became the best of friends
We have long conversations about topics most people in the world choose to ignore
We laugh all of the time
and when something good happens in my life
he is the first person I want to tell

Two years ago I fell in love

This man told me a secret
one that would only make me fall for him even more
I found that I could trust him with things
that I never had the courage to share with other people
I started to get to know this man on a deeper level
and I saw a side of him that made me want to do nothing but kiss him

One year ago I fell in love

My feelings for this man were getting stronger
It was to the point I couldn't be in the same room with him
without wanting to pour my heart out to him
My fear of rejection and opening up my heart
after being hurt so many times was beginning to cause conflict
I wanted to take the risk
but I was stuck

Four months ago I fell in love

I couldn't hold back any longer
so I told that man how I felt
When he confessed that he felt the same way
all of the fear I was carrying vanished
I felt free

This morning I fell in love

I am looking at the man I fell in love with five years ago
and it still feels like I am looking at him for the first time
Every minute spent with him is a blessing
Every day I get to kiss him and hug him
is another day I get to spend being grateful that this man
is a man who has chosen to love me
This man broke down all of my walls with a simple "hello"

This very minute I am falling in love
and in a second I will be falling in love all over again