Sina Fierce

http://leheartandmind.blogspot.com/2013/05/blog-post.html

Stolen Hope

Two girls sat crouched in the darkest corner of the closet, arms wrapped around each other tight. Not a breath escaped their lips as they listened, ears tuned, eyes wide, to the muffled sounds coming from outside the door. Something was thrown violently across the room and it landed with a loud crash.

“Where are you, you little bitch?”

One of the little girls whimpered and seemed to shrink further into the corner. The other girl wrapped her arms more fiercely around her sister and fought back the tears that threatened to engulf her. “He won’t find us.” She whispered, but her voice gave away the doubt she felt and she wished she hadn’t spoken at all.

They jumped in unison when a bottle shattered. Fear made the sound seem so close and the smell of liquor seeped through the door. A cold chuckle of laughter seemed to echo and reverberate through the walls and the girls shivered in fright. A slow set of footsteps made its way slowly and calculatedly towards the closet and as inebriated as he was, his step never faltered. The tears that had been held back so bravely finally spilled over. The light filtering in through the crack at the bottom of the door was suddenly shut out by the shadow of the monster standing outside the door. Eyes squeezed shut as the inevitable took place and the door was clawed off its hinges. Dim light fell upon the girls and a puddle of urine pooled between their legs. The braver of the two looked defiantly up at the lurching figure of her father and hid her sister behind her. Unperturbed, the man looked down at his daughters with glazed eyes and a triumphant smile. Although they were identical twins, he could easily tell them apart. Anyone could. Diane Hope Mills was quite obviously the older of the two, just from her protective stance. She was a plump nine year old who had grown up too quickly. Her green eyes glittered with spirit and her blond hair shone with them. She was alive. Isabel Faith Mills was death in the eyes of a child. A mere shadow of a girl, starved to skin and bones, eyes sunken in from fear of falling asleep. Even her dreams offered no escape to the terror that was her life. Looked at with utter disgust and hatred by her father and beaten ever since she could crawl. To him, she was the reason his wife had died.

A wave of sobs wracked Isabel’s body as her father viciously pulled her out from behind Diane.

 “You really thought you could hide from me did you, you little fuck?” he growled. He took her by the hair and dragged her out of the closet. Diane rushed forward and pummeled her father ineffectively with her little fists. “Leave her alone!” she screamed and her father gave her a brutal kick to the side. Her head connected with the wall and she sank to the floor unconscious.

He stumbled out into the hallway with Isabel still in tow, her sharp yelps of pain muffled by tears. She knew what was coming and her body convulsed involuntarily. She fell to the floor but this didn’t make her father stop. He just continued to drag her across the hard cold floor. All the way down the wooden splintered staircase. All the way to the kitchen. As he moved he removed his belt; his favorite weapon.

“You really thought you could hide from me did you?” he muttered breathily. He lifted her to her feet, then shoved her back onto the floor and stood over her with a wild look in his eyes. He slowly twisted the belt in his hand enjoying the fear it brought to the eyes of the helpless girl at his feet. Then with a cruel lift of his arm he brought the belt, buckle side, crashing to the girl’s side. She cried out but the pain was so intense that no sound came out. Her vision blurred and she went blind for a few seconds. She turned onto her stomach as she felt herself convulse and throw up her meager supper. She braced herself for the second blow fighting the urge to cover her head because previous experience had taught her that this would only make her father hit her more for doing so. He lifted his arm again and this time brought the belt down so hard that he himself fell backwards into the kitchen counter, bringing a rain of pots and pans onto the floor. Barely missing her head, a large pan fell in front of her as if goading her to take it in her hands. She looked back at her father and felt a wave of hatred wash over her as she watched him struggle to his feet. Without thinking twice, she grabbed the pan, stood shakily to her feet  and swung the pan at his head with all the strength an abused nine year old could muster. The pan connected to his head with a loud crack and for a second he stared down at her in shock. Isabel gave a frightened step backwards when he started to fall towards her. In her fear she thought he was lunging towards her and she screamed. But her hit combined with the liquor was enough to knock him out. For a few minutes she stared down at his limp body and she shivered as she remembered a time when he had beat her up and then locked her in the closet for days until she felt she was going to die. He was surely going to finish her when he woke up. It was not the fear of death that made her do what she did next. In fact she welcomed death. It was the fear of being locked up again. In the dark with no food or water, just her sisters voice outside the door keeping her alive. It was the thought of going through that, that made her turn and run. Out the front door and into the night, as far away from her father as she could.

To Be Continued...

 By Wilhelmine Wachter

Thinking About You By Mike Taylor

Click to watch video first

Yesterday you asked me if I think about you during the day
In class or on the bus
Do I ever wonder who you’re with or what you're doing or what you’re thinking about
Well…. I’m in math class right now…

And I’m thinking about you like crazy, like…
Hands think about holding
And arms think about folding
And minds think about not thinking, but knowing

I’m thinking about you like…
Feet think about socks and socks think about shoes
I’m thinking about you like…
Rock and metal think about screaming
Like blues thinks about rhythm
Like hip-hop thinks about…. hoes?

Like gardeners think about hoes

I’m thinking about you like…
Tops think about spinning
And rocks think about sitting
And cops think about…. arresting people

I’m thinking about you like people think about a clock five minutes before a shift ends

I’m thinking about you like…
A thinks about being with C
And B thinks about seeing D
And E effing G
And H eyeing J

I’m thinking about you like…
White and black think about making grey on a paint pallet
Like night thinks about making day in the morning
Like rain clouds think about pouring

I’m thinking about you like…
Math analysis thinks about being boring…
(Because, seriously, any class this boring has had to take some serious thought so…)
I’m thinking about you like the last problem on this math quiz!

I’m thinking about you like…
Bugs think about grass
Like thugs think about….grass
Like students think about class
Like ladies think about class
Like lower middle class people think about flying first class to places they only dream about like New Zealand or France

I’m thinking about you like….
Pilots think about the horizon
Like the clouds think about the wind
And the wind thinks about the trees
And teenage boys think about the birds and the bees
And the bees think about serving the queen and making honey
And honey I’m thinking about you like…. crazy….

Like mattresses think about springs
And winter thinks about spring
Who thinks about summer and it doesn’t matter
What season it is when I’m thinking about you
It’s always sunny
Like rainbows and bunnies

And I’m thinking about you like…
Rich people think about making money
And broke people think about making money
And when I think about you
The world makes…cents…

Let me go change
I’m thinking about you when I’m getting dressed
Because before I step up on stage
When I look at myself in the mirror
You’re the only one I’m trying to impress

I’m thinking about you like…
Boats think about floating
And paddles think about rowing
And poets think about flowing
I’m thinking about you like…
Bankers think about loaning
And renters think about owning
And stoners think about… throwing rocks

I’m thinking about you
Like keyboards think about keys
And keys think about unlocking locks
Like Goldilocks still thinks about bears
Like bears think about being cool

I’m thinking about you like…
Refrigerators think about being cool
And microwaves think about being hot
Like kids think about breaking rules
Like targets think about getting shot

I’m in math class right now, not trying to get you off my mind
Just simply off the sign and cosign and tangent lines I’m graphing

I’m thinking about you like…
Numbers think about adding
Like cripples think about standing
I’m thinking about standing up
And walking out

I’ll say I have to go to the bathroom
Or something
And I can find out who you’re with
And what you’re doing
And what you’re thinking about
But… I think you’re in class right now too
So I’ll text you
I’m thinking about you

Send.

Gabriel

By Lamb 

I can fly
But I want his wings
I can shine even in the darkness
But I crave the light that he brings
Revel in the songs that he sings
My angel Gabriel

I can love
But I need his heart
I am strong even on my own
But from him I never want to part
He's been there since the very start
My angel Gabriel
My angel Gabriel

Bless the day he came to be
Angel's wings carried him to me
Heavenly
I can fly
But I want his wings
I can shine even in the darkness
But I crave the light that he brings
Revel in the songs that he sings
My angel Gabriel
My angel Gabriel
My angel Gabriel

 Click to listen to Gabriel

He, Consequential, We

Etched in His thoughts, your frame He wrought

Unequivocally He wove you, inward and outward, He knew

Carved you it seems, from love, with generosity He filled your seams

A treasure I’ve found, happiness profound

And so to Him I am gratified, blessed and satisfied

From the tip of my nose, to the tip of my toes

You alight within me, a reason to be

From the break of light, to the fall of night

You invade my soul, you fill the hole

I always knew existed. You’ve got me twisted

In ways unimaginable, in ways impressionable

Sensations that tingle, overwhelm, ascend and mingle

Indulgent emotions that swell, reverberate like a lonely lovers spell

You’ve taken mutiny of my heart, in every way my counterpart

Just me and I am potential, with you I am consequential

To Simba McNorris Hakata