i. Oil Spills Part One
There are some days I forget how life feels
I forget there are moments that make my blood feel like gunfire
I forget there are hours where my heart is pure gold
I forget the feeling I replayed in my head to rock myself to sleep
I only remember written things
Transmitted across miles quicker than a blink
But they can't feel

Later

Even though I tease
There's still the feeling in the breeze
The taste of water that I drink
now, your reflection ripples in it

We do share something that's the same
You and I, we both have changed
But I can't make it go away
yet, even though you're different

You're not as good as you were before
There's just so much I should abhor
Based on past preference, but I want more
of you, so please don't listen

I’ve been waiting for you to do it-
I am excited for you and her-
Then everything just feels weird for a minute
Maybe now I can say what I want to but-
All of these memories flash through my head like-
When you laid the measuring tape on
The open floor between us and
It read your height (exactly six feet) and-
“So, if I laid down on the floor, I’d reach you,” and
You smiled in that boyishly charming way that
Only you can and now-
You’re telling a story from across the room and
Looking straight into my eyes and-

The next afternoon, while Ema was charming customers as she told them how she had helped Emily make the muffins that morning, Jerome, Emily, and I schemed for our New Years’ Soiree.
“I want to put up fliers everywhere again,” Emily said, “but last time the café was packed and I’m worried that will turn people away.”
“It might,” Jerome said, “but the amount of publicity it will bring to you will be worth it.”
“We sure could use that right now.”

Zenobia dragged out the ending of her story for two years. It took that long for her to trust the prince to kill her. During the first year, she simply gave him the knife with which to do it. In the meantime, Zenobia did languish, though not in the dungeon the prince set up for her. She daydreamed about that cold, dripping cell. It seemed preferable to the single stripe of shade she currently sat in against the warm sandstone wall.

People are always so confused about 'being healthy', 'losing weight' and 'being fit'. But the way I see it, it's really not that hard. Not to say that it's not hardER for some people. Some people do have a more active metabolism. But for the most part, it's about what you CHOOSE to do.

Faster
Reaching just a bit higher, 
Settling down again.
Pulling away afraid I've pushed too far, 
Hoping you'll pull me back in. 
Not sure when to say stop, 
I want it to last forever
Softening my approach once more, 
I hope you'll take the slack,
And make me yours, 
Faster. 

Chapter 2

THE HAUNTED CAROUSEL

Pam felt herself being gently shaken. She opened her eyes and saw her little sister standing over her. “Hi, Betty,” she said. “What’s the time?” Without waiting for an answer, she glanced over at the alarm clock that stood beside her bed.

Betty smiled. “See, I didn’t wake you up late. It’s eight o’clock.”

Many Years Later...
The Misty Mountains

Happy
Immeasurable joy, 
Laughter spills effortlessly, 
And trickles like the spring rain, 
Down the walls and into the earth. 

Giddy
It's not even your voice, 
But this giddiness could kill me. 
I can't seem to stop twirling, 
Giggling, 
Grinning like an idiot. 
I can't stop myself from smiling, 
Your words triggering butterflies, 
Blushing cheeks,
And a relieved heart, 
I can finally breath.