#tryjazzhands

Taco Bell

The place of happiness

The place of love

The place of care

The place I eat

The place I sleep

I go there often

I go there working

I go there melancholy

I go there depressed

I go there with no reason

When I wake up

My last day is near

The only place I’ve worked

Is finally here

And it’s gone

Retirement is pleasant

but Taco Bell

is my place of happiness

I decided to do blackout poetry for my jazz-hands! I know it’s hard to read, so just read it from left to right to get the poem I was trying to create. 😊

Here is the poem anyway:

the feeling

was cold,

the truth

a fire.

roaring,

the cold

burned.

he was sorry.

the man knew

it was time.

the fire

followed him,

his face white

My insides are tight

My throat can’t swallow

My mind won’t stop

Everything overwhelms me

I’m overwhelmed

I try to think rationally

But I just avoid

Avoid doing anything to prevent it

It just comes

Comes in waves

That envelop me

I find other ways to feel productive

Clean room, laundry done, dishes washed

"Pinned,

Nailed,

Scratch raw

Against the cuts.

I live,

Yet I fear

'freedom.'

Freedom is

Disillusionment and

The Bitter cold could be felt along the walls. It is only worse when the rain accompanies it. Today only the sun sets and darkness ensues. The braziers must be lit before to late or our vision will be impaired. After all no one likes to stumble in the dark.

One by One the braziers spark to life. The warm glow emitting from them helps to stave off the cold and darkness for the time being. Some have thought the fire was safe but that is never the case. For some reason the things that live in the darkness are drawn to the fire. In the beginning we were unprepared for them but now on these walls we stand ready to face anything that comes.

Under us. Something entirely strange yet wonderful exists under our feet. Normal people don’t know about it. If they knew about it, it would shatter their perception on the world they know. Underneath of us, lies a world of wonder. It bleeds into the very existence of our world. It, for what we know, is our world. They are one and the same. A world of strangeness, beauty,  a twisted form of our reality. 

Within our world lies magic. Not magic that you would think of. Magic that must be tapped into, harnessed from within. Everyone is born with magic. But only those who know it is there know how to call upon it. Sometimes, people call upon it in the moment, whether in fear or pleasure. When this happens, we are called in to collect them, take them to their new home, train them.

     Sara stared across the table at Ava. She seemed different, almost sadder. It had been eight... no twelve years since they had seen each other. Their last mission together seemed like a lifetime ago. Their love even farther away than that. It was for the best though; they needed a break from each other. A break, yeah.... a year turned to five turned to ten, and now here they are, complete strangers. 

     Without Ray or Nate or Charlie around, the ship was too quiet. Ava still hadn’t spoken a word, and Sara couldn’t find the right words to say. “You never came back,” Ava said, almost nothing but a whisper, “You never called. You never wrote a letter. You never came back...” A tear rolled down her cheek before she roughly wiped it away with her sleeve.

     Sara sighed and spoke, “You didn’t either. I left the door open for you. It isn’t all my fault.”

    Ava scoffed, “Your fault? Everything was your fault. Now, everyone is gone, and I have no one!” She stood up and headed out the door.

     Sara couldn’t find the strength to move or speak as she watched the love of her life leave yet again. “You have me,” she choked out as Ava disappeared into the dreary, dark night.