Showing posts from April, 2018

Prompt #6

  This is a prompt of A conversation between a girl and her mother. "How did the tea party go?" "Good!" " what did you talk about? " "well, umm.... Politics, treason, anarchy, torcher, and death. " "What? Honey, your not supposed talk about politics, torcher, death, and etc.... Usually you would talk about romance, boys, books, tea, and random gossip. " "Oh! I didn't know that. Next time I'll try to remember that. Books, boys, and tea are not ask exciting though."  "Ugh! What am I supposed to do with you?"

writing prompt #5

On the way home from a friend's house the other evening this prompt formed in myhead.  I threw my fists against the wall. Anger and frustration consumed me. All the emotion I had been holding back poured out. My head felt like it would explode. Tears slid down my cheeks as I sank to my knees. "Why did he have to die? We were finally getting to living a decent life for the first time in our lives. Why did he have to die from a bloody car accident of all things?" I kept asking myself. I was mad at my mom for leaving us, my dad for dying, and my grand parents for disowning my family.  I was mad at all the guys who teased me at school, the stupid girl across the street who wouldn't leave me alone, and social service last who took me into the foster system. I was angry at everyone and everything in life.

The uninvited visitor

Fear is the uninvited visitor that comes to haunt you. It always comes in the most inconvenient times. And once its there it's very hard to make it leave.  Fear crept up the stairs  Down the hall than stopped  At my bedroom door. It knocked twice than came in And crept into my head.  By Evelyn Creon

Scared and unworthy

This poem was written for all the people who understand and have been through this particular phase in life, or know someone who has.  My head is yelling at me About all the stupid things I've done. It tells me I'm unworthy  For anyone I love. I feel the pain it brings me,  My lack of self-esteem,   the And the fear it drives into my heart. The idea that anyone could love me After all the nasty things. I build my walls up high  Trying to keep myself safe,  fear is the tool that drives me there; While secrets are what makes my walls unsafe.  The fear of showing people myself. The fear of opening up. Its the fear that drives me under cover Away from difficult situations. My fear pushes people I care about away  With out me realizing until its to late. It brakes me up from inside out  And yet, still I build my walls high Making the same mistakes  I should know by now not to make.  By Evelyn Creon