No One’s Listening

I have not written a short story in a very long time. It felt really good to dedicate the last few minutes of tonight to this. I might do more. 🙂

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The Moon created a small pool of light for her to sit in. A small rodent of society curled up beneath the night. The grass pricked and poked at her arms and legs. The wind carried over the sound from the city.

Even atop the mountain she could hear the complaints, the whines, the anger and frustrations we chose to pursue. With an outstretched hand she pointed at the bird fluttering around in front of her. She tilted her head and stared. Examining the carefree bird; well fed and obviously in good health. It chirped and enjoyed the breeze. The rodent girl spoke and the bird vanished. She slumped as her only audience had left her. She wanted an audience; anything that has had experience breathing would work. But she would more so appreciate an audience that has thought as well; thoughts of fiction, of fantasies, dreams and playgrounds (the never-ending kind). She would really like an audience of at least one. Still slumped, she spoke again; the same words spoken as earlier.

A moment of silence, then her world moved. A shiny hero of life strode by. The hero turned to her and stared. The rodent girl felt the weight of his stare and met his eyes. Her head tilted in confusion. They were locked for what seemed like years. She slumped again. Why would this shining veggie of society bother to hear my words? She thought aloud. The veggie sat down not too far from where the bird had been fluttering about.
He almost seemed unreal. The girl tried to speak, but her nerves closed her lips. She could not say a word. She was never scared to speak in the presence of anyone else. Fear seized her as she realized her silence may scare away her only listener. Don’t go, she wanted to scream, but there she sat in silence. Fear and nerves destroyed any hope and any chance of receiving the ears of this other soul. The grass’s touch was agonizing. How could this happen? Is this a cruel joke life offers her? Why murder the sad face, the one trying to hope? She slowly lifted her gaze to see the shiny person before her. Hatred grabbed her hand as she thought of herself. She could speak to anything and everything that wasn’t listening, but to you who came bravely into the confusion around me. She could say nothing!

Her heart forced her to stand. Head drooped , she turned to go down the mountain. To be forgotten, when he whispered, “Don’t go…”

Leaving

Explosions
Playing the piano
I need to write
so I go.
my pen drops
the old carpet absorbs my lies,
an old poem.
I bring up
The necessity to keep it going
to write until
my heart is content
like playing a piano
I play the keyboard
demanding the alphabet
of my life to jump onto the page before me
i try not to pause
my thoughts cannot stop
i need them more than ever.
i write because i exist
because my mind says to
My mind demands me to release the thoughts suffocating me
drowning my actions
and so i write, i play
i send my thoughts to run
to build a playground i can visit
i saw today something causing me to erupt in anger, in sadness
for not being the success i had always wanted,
for not being where i could be
but then the words, they play again,
a song they sing to me
What Love rescued my life and gave me abilities.
I may lack all your talent
your perseverance
But I have more than I could have ever anticipated
I may not be anywhere that wanted
but I have everything i will ever need
i have been redeemed
shame is lost, i’m forgiven.
Worries pour out of me and into the ocean
daily
that i may live freely
grasp the tide and not be afraid of letting go
to beat the world and smile in victory
It’s almost too much for me.
I’m just glad that I am truly happy.

Mountain By Blue October

I played this song. I love music with thought provoking lyrics. That is what this song is. As I heard the music and the lyrics, my hands began to itch, to crave a pen, my eyes desired to see my thoughts appear in front of them. I wrote the above as a result. I’m not gonna change it. But I truly love writing. There was a moment today when my failures grasped my neck. I wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. There are times when I feel less than what I could be. Like I have not tried hard enough. It terrifies me. I must always remember that these moments do not define me. My desk cannot protect me, and covering my eyes does not blind the world, but blinds me… And all I can think is me. There is the problem:

I am the problem…

Through it all, my mind died.
It could not have this planet
nor the ocean and its tide
It asked again, Can it
have the rising sun
the beaches and trees that weigh a ton?
My mind fought and died
as suddenly it realized
Destiny and Fate
coincidence and hate
My love, my stuff
the choices and muck
My life, heart and Mind
were not mine to take.