Foaming bubbles lick at the sand

They splash at my feet

I grin in delight

A seagull flys by

And a roar fills my ears

Powerful

Deadly

My haven...

No no no no.

It can’t be happening. It shouldn’t be happening.

“My body is my own. I am myself. I am dreaming or better yet dead.” The princess spoke to herself.

Closing her eyes hard once more she opens them again to find herself standing in the same old apartment as she did three years ago. A fading grey couch was shoved up against one of the sage green walls. Other pieces of mismatched...

Wind.

It seeped into my soul. Filled my lungs. Whipped my hair in all directions.

Until it stopped.

The land beneath my feet was solid and my feet grew damp at the morning dew covering the grass.

It was only then that I allowed myself to look at my sister, Lily, and grin.

All teeth and no heart.

We were going to conquer the world....

Everyday the hope appears

But then someone begins to leer.

Embarrassment floods in it place

At each comment of distaste.

The gears that used to turn

Sit dusty unused and done.

No longer powered by the flame that burned.

A dream once bright

Starts to dim.

And with a final bow

the thoughts are gone....

It would be an easy trade. She honestly laughed when she saw the note left behind by the thief. What was demanded was nothing compared to what was stolen. But then she thinks, one man’s trash is another’s treasure.

“Do you have what was requested?”

“Requested? Ha! That’s almost a kind way to put blackmail.”

“The Twizzlers, Karter.” Ace says in a board tone.

“You’re lucky I still had ...

The glint in her eyes was insane. Not only a little crazy, but full on mad. The grin marrying her hollow face only was conformation of her unhinged state.

But she was in jolly spirits. Laughter bouncing of the walls. Her riddles leaving the audience cautious but curious.

“You measure my life in hours and I serve you by expiring. I’m quick when I’m thin and slow when I’m fat. The wind is my...

“Why are you here? Who sent you?” The guard shakes me vigorously almost a hint of desperation in the demanding voice.

“That information is classified.” I say in my snottiest tone.

“Mr. Amman Dyer’s guest list only has those of extreme wealth on it. How could a penniless thief manage to get on it?”

I pointedly look down at my dark wine dress easily over three hundred dollars and the gol...

Robin of Loxely is very bold

His adventures fun to be told.

Forest green are worn by his men

Merry and noble they were then.

An arrow shot from a bow so fine

Marks the place where goblets are raised holding our wine.

Robin of Loxely was very bold

His adventures still are told.

*I have never written a Horatian ode before so if I didn’t do it right sorry....

“I guess we do have something in common,” I say to Jack. “We both left and never looked back.”

He looks sadly up at me, “Will they forgive me? Will I forgive myself?”

At this I pause. I have come to peace with my decision. It was the key to unlocking my chains. But my brother, Jack, has always looked up to me and I suddenly wonder if my leaving made him feel like he had to do the same.

...

The most soul shattering experience one can feel is saying goodbye. For we all wish that there can be a forever. And just like all the others who have left I feel the agony that threatens to break me into a million pieces.

“I can’t,” my voice wavers. How does one say goodbye? How can it be said perfectly?

Staring at my closest friend I realize, I can’t do it.

I am no poet who can twist what is...