A Country Girl's Writing

The bitter head of scorn Draped its self in thorns. To us its demeanor was like roses Enticing did they shine  Right before our eyes. Their ugliness was masked With a shiny, colorful, covering. To catch our gaze by dazzling lies Instead of truth, so bitter tasting.  By Evelyn Creon 

To have your heart broken By someone you love They have to drop it From a high place above. Let it fall without a care As they watch it fly through the air, and shatter like glass Beneath them. Then they have to leave it, For you to recover. while it take you years To piece it again together. By Evelyn Creon

Another dark poem. Written a couple weeks ago.  I felt the breathe and presence Of something dark and dirty. It sent a frozen chill Up my heated body. I shivered in the cold That bit me in the back, and whispered in the darkness, "Please, give me one last chance." I there than became aware, Rime fingers on my shoulder. I tried to move away They grasped me much harder. The warmth in my body It slowly diminished. As I stood there by myself Ice forming on my body. I endured the ice crawling, Descending my arms and legs, Taking lastly my heart. That's when it stopped beating. When the ice ceased crawling It's sweet, eerie, voice said "Ice is a pleasant color To look at upon your head. " No longer could I answer, Nor could I cry-out in pain. I stood there dead, with dread Frozen upon my face. By Evelyn Creon

Image flashed fore me, I closed my eyes tight.  Darkness settled in With it brought, inept sin.  I cried, "Not again,"  My eyes began to burn  From a fire within,  "I can't look again."   I opened my eyes, The image it was gone, Far from my eye sight.  I could breath once again.  In that dark evil place, The sun began to show 'baft a mountain peek It did begin to grow.  Tears filled my eyes  Once again I denied  Undeniable sin  That tried to rule my life. By Evelyn Creon 

 I 'm do excited for this short story. I've been wanting to share it with all of you for the past two weeks, but it wasn't ready two weeks ago.   It was inspired by all the familys that deal with alcohol addiction in their homes.  Whiskey Drinker   a short story by Evelyn Creon Like a ship sinking into a stormy sea, an empty bottle fell from his hands hitting the concrete floor with a crash ,  and shattering into a thousand pieces. He sat there half lying, half sitting in  is chair. The chair was using all its strength trying not to buckle beneath my father's weight. He was drunk. The smell of whiskey was strong on his breath. I sighed, a deep long one, trying to hold back tears of aching pain that filled me at the sight of him. Again I had found him lost in drowning everything with a drink. Guilt filled me. I felt like I should have used softer words when I scolded him like a child. It was in times like  those , when my...

One of the things I have always feared is the idea of losing my parents. This was a dream that I would have over and over again when I was younger.  My heart fell from his hands hitting the ground shattering into a thousand pieces. "Nnnoooo," I cried, "You dropped it! How could you do such a thing?" Tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn't hold them back as much as I wanted to.  A grin crossed his lips as he looked at me and said hardheartedly, "Your the one that gave it to me, and so you have me the permission to do what I wanted with it. I don't care about your heart so I broke it. " The tears streamed faster down my cheeks than they had ever come before. "Does my heart mean nothing to you?"  " NO, nope, never have and never will. "  I looked up at him in disgust. His grin made me sick inside. I had trusted him with every part of me, and most importantly the memory of my parents. I couldn't look at hi...

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.

While going through some of my old writing I came across this short piece of poetry. It was written during the big scare of the forest fires in the Columbia Gorge.  Cold feeling of regret  That pierces through ones soul.  A hole similar to being stabbed in the chest, By some enemy of the unknown. By Evelyn Creon

She Sat there, tied to a chair; Damaged and confused.  To calm the dark fear of death, She there intuned. "Away with me forever, never too be seen. A whisper and a shadow forever I will be.  No one to say, "I love you." Or,"Are you okay?" No one to say, "hold on now, we'll make it through the day." Only a dark shadow, that crawls across the room. Only a whisper that says, "It will all be over soon." Only dark cold depths; that never pass me by.  Only terrible ice winds; that beat against the sky.  Only me tide up; tight, to die and endless death.  So, this song I will sing until my last dying breath." The song she sang it 'bout thrice; On the fourth she tried,  But her heart ceased to beat.  Then she there did die.  They found her in the morning  Underneath the sky.  Iced over by all the cold, All to horrify.  Nobody knew who she was. Or why she was there.  They only ...

Tis not our lives from the past,  Or the hopes of a future.  It's the secrets you hid  From the first day we met. Tis not the word of a promise,  Or the love that you've showed.  It's the lies you'd tell me  Over and over again.  Those lies and secrets were pains.  They drug me though the dirt.  Scratched me up and bruised me; Then left me for dead on the turf. Now I'm left alone n foreign grounds, With a heart that's ripped to shreds. Lost and gone forever from you  From the way you ran me through.  Tis not our lives from the past,  Or the hopes of a future.  It's the secrets you hid  From the first day we met. Tis not the word of a promise,  Or the love that you've showed.  It's the lies you'd tell me  Over and over again.  By Evelyn Creon