Suns Rays

The bright, glowing ball in the sky shines over the hill as the car gets to the peak. They don't see the large gas truck coming over the hill at the same time. The two little boys in the backseat absentmindedly playing a game only a two year old and seven month old can play. They are talking their secret language. The car goes a little over the yellow line. It collides with the gas truck. The sun glows brighter. Just a little brighter. The rays reaching towards the car and shines a blinding white for a second or two. And then it goes back to normal. Back to it's golden glow. It's as if nothing has happened. You drive down the road and it seems as if nothing happened. Everything is the same. Life goes on. Even for the parents of the two little boys. Life goes on. Even for the family of the great grandmother driving the car. The suns rays reached out though for a few seconds on the eighth of December, 2011 at 12:45. But only long enough to grab three souls and bring them up to Heaven.


RIP Jackon, Jasper and Judith.

Written December 11, 2011

Jacob

There is no sadness.
Only numbness.
You reach for the stars like there's no tomorrow.
But there are no stars.
There is no light.
No more time to put up a fight.
No more time to say 'hello.'
No more time to say you're sorry.
Because of could've's, would've's, should've's
Because no solution will be found.
Because no amount of tears can wake the dead.
Only sorry's whispered in your head.
Only the tears and friends by your side will keep you company in this hard time.
No one else there, no one at all.
No one there to pick you up when you fall.\


Everyone is hurt.
Everyone is affected.
Even me who never knew you or glanced at you in the halls.
And everyone is grieving, everyone hurts.
Everyone wishes they did something different.
But now it's too late and you're already gone.

Never Forget

Never forget his birthday.
Never forget her death.
Never forget today even when nothing is left.

But there is a day in history.
One you'll never really forget.
The day of September 11th.
Filled with fear and regret.

Filled with I miss you's.
I'm sorrys
I wish.

Emptied with Happiness
Hugs
and a kiss.

You'll never forget where you are.
You'll never forget who you are.
But the thing you'll remember the most
is who you lost and hold close.

And they will never forget you as they watch you from way up above.
They will always remember you who they loved.

9/12/11

There are Times

There are times when we smile.
Times when we grieve.
Times to reflect.
Times to take heed.
There are times of sorrow.
And stuck inbetween.
There are times of tomorrow.
Never forseen.
There were are yesterdays, gone to today.
And times like today waiting for tomorrow.
There are hopes and the dreams and the times that we see
Who we really could be
if we just try to believe.
Sometimes in these times we wish we could run.
Run away, far away and never be done.
We wish we could go back and undo what was done.
To say a quick 'I love you' before it would come.
And crash to the ground.
To rumble and shake.
And see all the dust all over the place.
And see all the lives flash right before our eyes.
To the end.
To the end.
To the end of our times.
But when we reflect and we just want to cry.
We have to remember that those tears have dried.
And it's okay now to say on that fateful day,
that they couldn't stay, so God took them away.
And now they can see just like me and like you
There are times that we cry and there are times through and through
That we smile when we say 'that was my brother, my friend.'
who fought oh so hard until the very end.

9/12/11

You

I've liked you since last October.
The last time we had a good conversation was last November.
The last day of November you asked her out.
I was so upset because I thought you liked me.
After that we didn't really talk.
Then we did one day in April.
Even though you were dating her and I knew you were off limits I still really liked you.
What hurts the most is that I liked you, and you didn't even know it.
That was when I realized when you really, truly like someone, you can't stop.
I was happy that there were rarely pictures of you and that girl that hated me so much on facebook.
I would just see the glaring picture of her on your profile proclaiming to the world that you were 'in a relationship.'
And every time I saw it, it killed me.
One day my stalking of you on Facebook was to the point I thought I should delete you off my friends list.
I couldn't like you and the only way I could do that was delete you off Facebook.
But I didn't.
I saw you every day at play practice which wasn't a good thing either.
Especially when you were with her.
I went to graduation in June and while I did like your friend and thought I had a crush on him, I'm not sure if I ever really did.
He didn't seem to want to hang out with me so I gave up.
I wouldn't have given up if it was you.
I was pretty sure graduation would be the last time I would see you face.
Unless I ran into you at a store or something, but even then we would just walk by each other.
No signs of recognition.
Then earlier in the month I was stalking you on facebook, like I did all too often.
And I saw you were single.
My heart skipped a beat.
I went on her page.
She was single too.
You weren't dating her anymore.
I was so excited.
I thought to myself 'this is finally my turn.'
And then I realized something.
You were going to college.
You probably didn't get in a fight.
You probably broke up with her because you were going to college.
And now I am nowhere.
You are single.
But I still cannot date you.
We haven't talked in so long.
And this fall I think I'll be seeing you in school because you'll be visiting.
And each time it will kill me inside.
But it doesn't matter.
Once winter comes around it won't matter.
I'll get over you.
I'll move on.
Find a better guy.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
Or maybe I won't.
Because maybe I'll still like you.
Because if there is one thing I have learned it's love hurts.
Even if it's a love that never existed.
Especially if it's a love that never existed.
But as for now.
I still like you.

August 25, 2011

Birthday

Dear Lila,
Today would have been your 7th birthday. You were born on July 23th 2004. Or that was the date I just chose. I picked it because at the time I had a crush on Daniel Radcliffe and I thought it would be so cool if you had the same birthday. I had originally chosen July 4th but we were in Maine that year. I love you and miss you so much. I feel like those 6 years, 9 months and 6 days were a dream. I feel like I woke up and right as I did my world turned upside down. Today was a sad day for the whole world. A gunman went on a killing spree that lasted 90 minutes before he was stopped and Amy Winehouse died.
I gave Chestnut two treats today in your honor. They weren’t the raviolis though because you ate all those. They were the sesame and peanut butter ones. I remember when I would give you one and I would eat one until I found out they weren’t suitable for human consumption. Whoops! From then on I watched you eat them jelously. No matter how many rabbits I ever have I will never forget you. You were my first bunny and you were the best. You knew your name, which I didn’t think was impressive but I realize now it was! And you came when you called. Even when I wanted you to explore you would sit on my feet or you would explore about two feet and check to make sure I was still there before moving any further. I thought about you a lot today . Even when I was getting milkshakes with a friend. I think of you every day and miss you every day. I love you my beautiful baby bunny forever and always,

Mommy

Words

What are words?
Words are a way to express something.
To try to convey what exactly it is you are trying to communicate.
Words are vital.
Without them there would be nothing on this paper.

July 23, 2011

Crazy Beautiful You

Have you ever stopped to think.
Stopped to smell the flowers and paused.
Taken a moment out of your busy hectic day and look in the mirror or sit in a chair
with a journal in hand and say.
I am beautiful.
I am strong.
Do you ever stop to contemplate who you really are?
Do you see life go by from afar?
Do you stop to see it flashing by and realize for a moment that who you are is a crazy beautiful girl in a crazy beautiful world?
Do you ever feel like that world isn't fair and takes things away too soon?
Do you ever not want to stop and stare?
Do you ever want life zooming through?
So you can move on up to Heaven above and see all that is to be seen.
But all you are is a crazy beautiful girl in a crazy beautiful world, which sometimes just seems oh so mean.

June 15, 2011

The Little Girl

This little girl is being drawn.
Slowly by a steady hand, holding it all.
Her little plaid hat with it's perfect criss crosses, will laugh in the spring or summer breeze.
And her big eyes looking away from the artist who is about to start drawing her again.
Her mouth slightly open in a goofy little grin.
She has no idea, what she will become.
She is just a little girl.
Enjoying the day.

Thank You

Thank you for your tiny kisses, your fragile soft paws.
Thank you for the many wishes on a big bright wishing star.
Thank you each and every day because I know you're here with me.
I thank you each and every day for the tiny things you did for me.
You helped me realize, you helped me see, how wonderfully powerful life can be.
How even when you're sad and you need a little pick me up, all I did was walk up some stairs,
and you were there and you'd sit up.
And tell me everything's all right and I took good care of you.
But now you're God's angel and I can't do any more for you.
But talk about the should have beens and could have beens and just how much I love you.
So thank you for all the laughs and cries and all that was in-between.
I'll love you forever, and ever and ever, so thank you Lila for everything.

Mommy loves her little chubby bunny Lila.

May 11, 2011

To Mommy with Love

You may not solve world peace,
but you make high school stormy waters calm.
And you may6 not climb Mount Everest,
but you climbed the biggest mountain of all!
You chose to be a Mother,
and to me thats the biggest gift of all!

Written Mother's Day May 8, 2011

Angel Wings

Dear Lila,

You've always had angel wings, wings of an angel.
And I've always loved to run my fingers over them.
They are bony and stick out, in an obvious way, but I did love them all the same.
I told you one day when you were sick that maybe one day, you would fly.
Fly high above the baby blue sky.
And I told you not to let that time come too soon when you would swap your bony wings for real ones.
I cried and cried and you comforted me, until the very end.
The last time I saw you in that furry white body you gave me feeble kisses.
I could see it in your eyes, you wanted me to save you, from the veterinary's office.
But I said to be good, and I kissed you then I turned my back and said good bye, see you tomorrow.
I will never forgive and never forget that stupid choice I made, of leaving you there, walking away my back to you.
And then this morning we got the call and I couldn't even stand. I fell to the ground and cried and cried about this horrible thing.
And then when I got you, your fur was so soft and your eyes still bright and merry. And then I found your angel wings on your back and began to cry some more. They weren't nearly as bony as they were the day before because now in heaven you needed them.
All that is left is a body in a box but I realized now there is so much more. It's good when you realize the reason you're crying is because of all the good times and good memories.
I love you so much and you'll always be my beautiful baby bunny. Or funny bunny, or honey bunny or Lila or sweetheart or something of that sort. And now I know that you know that I love you, I can smell you everywhere. I am not sure why but everywhere I go I can smell you, as if my nose was pressed against your soft warm fuzzy body.
I'll never forget the first bunny I had, a boy who's name was Lila, the mini rex rabbit who made 6 years of my life so amazingly great, will be with me forever, and ever and ever
And now he is in heaven with his real angel wings watching me up from the sky. And I hope he understands why I did what I did and how I love him so much.
And I'll never forget that bunny from Noah Arc's pet store and how he has changed my life. And made me who I am today. I am forever grateful.


Love your Mommy.

Forgive them even if they are not sorry

Forgive them even if they are not sorry.
Forgive them even if they think they did no wrong.
Forgive them in every way.
Forgive them every day.
Forgive them even if they are not sorry.
For they know not what sorry is.
The sourness of it has not made their lips pucker.
Or their eyes water.
They fear the word.
It's very wrath daring to sweep them away.
Forgive.
Forgive.
It's a tough word.
Sorry.
They think everything they do they can get away with.
They think their hurtful words and daring looks will never be noticed.
Never be noticed by the girl sitting across from them.
She has cried before over them.
Wishing, willing them to be her friends.
But I wonder to myself, why would she want to be friends with such people.
Such, vial, despicable people, who someday may be picked apart themselves by someone else, such as this girl is being picked apart by them.
But they care not.
They see not what impact they are having on this young girls life.
But one day when these bitches get picked apart, all that will remain, once their outer shell has been vanquished, will be a sad person.
Are they a person at all?
Or spawn of the devil sent by him to destroy one girls high school experience.
I would never know the difference of where they came from.
Nor do I care.
But please, forgive them, even if they are not sorry.

Friday April 22, 2011

An Army (May 7, 2010)

It takes an army to destroy an army.
It takes one to make a change.
To stand up for whats right.
Even when your standing alone.
To tell your peers the difference between right and wrong.
To change minds.
To settle problems.
It takes one to make a change but an army of people can follow.

Pain (written on May 7, 2010)

It’s something you feel.
It can be physical.
It can be emotional.
Emotional hurts more.
It hurts you heart.
You can feel it.
It’s a sense of emptiness.
Of sadness.
Of hurt.
Your heart feels pain.
Even if it’s not possible.
Pain is something you feel.
It can be physical.
It can be emotional.
Emotional hurts more.
It’s a sense of sadness and hurt.

Flying (written on May 6, 2010

Flying

Flying away is painful.
It hurts the ones it never knew it would.
Flying away is liberating.
It’s not the same, but it’s not unique.
It’s being above the sky, above the clouds, above the hurt and the hate and the love.
It’s flying.
It’s being free.
It’s doing what never could have been done.
And then it hurts to fly.
And then you want to go home.
And you want to stop the hurt.
And you want to stop the fear.
And you want to sink from the clouds
and hug everyone and tell them it’s all okay again.
But then that time passes and you want to fly and be free and touch the sky.
Because flying is the only thing you know how to do now.
So you fly and you live for today.
And you live for tomorrow.
You live for yesterdays
and so you turn your face to the sun, and you fly.
You fly away.
But you come back when needed.
Because you don’t like to see hurt. You want to heal it.
And the only way you know how is to fly.







Emma Kessler
10th grade
May 6, 2010

[Love]

Smiles shared.
Laughing.
Memories together.

Love.

March 23, 2011

Orange

Orange this.
Orange that.
Orange here.
Orange there.
Orange, orange everywhere.
Orange orange.
Orange green.
Orange yellow.
Orange sheen.
Orange blue.
Orange smell.
Orange lime.
Orange dream.
Orange taste.
Orange yummy.
Orange orange.
Everywhere

Stained

Don't let that die.
That fear.
That hope.
Let it survive.
Let it thrive.
Don't let it die.
Keep going strong.
Don't stop that fear.
Pop the cork.
Watch it spill out.
Like blood out of a body.
Out of a cut.
A wound.
And watch it spread.
Staining everything in it's path.
Leaving nothing soiled.
Grabbing, soaking the carpet.
And watch it.
Watch it kill.
Kill.
Never die.
You know it will happen.
The cork will be popped and you will watch as the life leave you.
But still in the final moments don't let it die.
That fear.
That hope.
Let it thrive in the blood spilling on the floor.

March 19, 2011

My Favorite Place in the World

My favorite place in the world isn't an ordinary place.
It isn't a place outside or a place inside with wide open windows.
Its a different kind of place.
It is a dark, place.
A place which appears fancy to most of those who see it, but I know it isn't.
It is closed off.
It is quiet.
No sounds filter in or out.
I stand in the higher place.
The others sit in the lower part.
In chairs, in rows.
They watch me.
They watch other people too.
They clap, and shout.
There are no windows in the place.
If it is hell, I'd sign right up.
My favorite place is in a lot of different places.
It's where I want to be.
It's where I feel I belong.
And I know it belongs with me.

March 19, 2011

Memory

It comes and goes in waves.
Sometimes with the tide, trailing in and then fading away.
It comes in torrents sometimes too.
And in gushes.
Like a tornado, unable to stop, yet not clear, not aligned properly.
Like an earthquake, trying to remember. Trying to see.
Sometimes it's blank.
Nothing there but empty space.
A space no one can fill.
'Hey, how are you feeling today?'
I can't remember.
I can't remember my own niece sitting in the chair next to me.
Wait.
Is she my niece?
What is a niece?
Whatever that is, it has nice hair.
Chocolately brown.
It smiled at me.
I concentrated and tried to copy the motion.
This makes the smile fade.
What a funny word, smile.
Wonder what it means....
smile.
A wet circle falls from her eye.
Wet?
Circle?
Eye?
Hmmmm....
...
it's a....
a...
tear?
yes!
It's a tear!
And a tornado hits again.
A rush of too much information.
I remember.
The 'it' sitting at my bedside is a girl.
She is my niece.
She is upset.
It's clear.
She is crying.
Her chin is trembling, but she is trying to hide it.
---
blank.
Nothing but blankness.
Nothing.
Nothing but darkness.
There is an it nearby.
I am.
I am...
I am.... losing.
I am losing my....
my...
my...
memory.
I realize in that moment, that I am.
I am...
am...
hopeless.

March 18, 2011

Fragile

I liked him.
I liked him a lot.
More than I can say.
And he took my heart and broke it.
No smashed it.
Threw it around in his hands.
Then 'dropped' it on the floor.
The hard, tile, floor.
It smashed.
Looking like tiny mirrors glistening in the sun.
Still beating.
But barely.
And then you came along.
And yeah, I still like him.
But I like you too.
And my heart was on the floor.
Cracked, broken.
But you came along.
And fixed it.
For the most part.
I think you might have left some pieces on the floor.
But you keep it in a jar.
A jar which not unlike my heart is fragile.

March 18, 2011
(This is probably the cheesiest, weirdest, gushiest, grossest poem I have ever written. Yep, pretty cheesy! haha)

Leave Me

Leave me alone.
Please let me be.
Stop bugging me.
Annoying me.
You're done trying me on, like a shirt or a shoe.
You've decided to like me, oh what can I do?
Please leave me alone.
You don't get hints.
I don't want to hurt you, or leave you scarred.
I hate being mean, but I am up against a wall.
I feel stuck, and trapped and you're creeping me out!
Please leave me alone I've never liked you.

March 18, 2011

The Look

Do you ever think how unfair it is to do that dreadful thing?
I flinch at the very thought, the very action I am overly aware that you are about to do.
That I am about to receive. I want to sometimes turn, and yell in your face, "why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
Why do The Look, we know all too well, why do it at all I ask?
When done by a girl, the girl is taken aback and wants to crouch in a corner.
Yet- when done by a guy, yet received by a girl, the same cannot be said. The girl stands up tall, while the guy wanders on, wishing he dated her instead.

March 16, 2011

Chance

Just go and you can leave peacefully.
Without the bloodshed from the battle.
Without the pang from honest truth.
Without the shedding of a tear.
Just leave with your dignity?
No?
Well then you've lost your chance.
Now you lie low and wait.
And I come in, a prancing in.
To steal your chance.

You + Me ≠ Happiness

You just don't get it do you?
You try and try again.
And yet you fail.
You get rejected.
You can't move forward.
Because I won't let you.
You can try, try again and again.
But you're getting nowhere.
You don't see that do you?
You don't feel do you?
Rejection.
Rejection.
Rejection.
Yet, still, you keep coming back.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Maybe... this time.
But no.
Not this time.
Not ever.
And I want nothing to do with you.
I thought you were nice.
Maybe a good friend someday.
But nothing more.
You don't see what I see.
You don't get what I get.
The one thing I want you to do is...
stop.
STOP.
Just stop trying.
It makes me feel bad.
It makes me mad I can't be more blunt.
Be.
More.
Honest.
But I can't.
Although I will try.
I have to.
Because otherwise you will never get it.
Otherwise you will never see.
Leave me alone, let me be.

March 16, 2011

Move

Swim
Run
Ride
Jump
Crawl
Walk
Dance
Leap
Skip
Hop
March
Scurry
Trudge
Sprint
Glide
Climb
Spin
Trot
Burrow
Shuffle


February 16, 2011

You don't know

You don't know what you don't know, you don't know.
When the sun is setting and the world is shutting down you don't know.
You just don't know.
You don't know.
When the streets are empty and the shops are closed you don't know.
When the lights go off and you close your eyes to dream you don't know.
You don't know.
You just don't know.
When the house is quiet and all is well you don't know.
You don't know.
What you don't know.
When you don't know.
What you don't know.
You'll never know.
I'll always love you.

February 16, 2011

Love is the thing on my window. With feathers and wings oh, so sure.

Love is the thing in the morning, that wakes me up at the dawn.
Love is the thing in my pocket, I’ll carry around till I die.
Love is the thing on my smile, I’ll never forget his laugh.
Love is the thing on my finger, it glistens and gleams in the sun.
Love is the thing on my shoulder, held strong and steady at once.
Love is the thing in my eyes, that dance as the sun goes by.
Love is the thing on my window, with feathers and wings so sure.
Love is the thing in the evening, as I fall asleep till dawn.


February 16, 2011

Two Wheat Stalks

When this smile fades away and the laughs have disappeared, when running through the fields is done, come the rising sun. When melodies have grown old and fraying at the seams, and when the last drink is gone the memories it seems; to drive away, to stave away a sick and hideous cough. One of the sorts, and kinds that laughs and scoffs at the loss. But you stay strong and you hold on until the very end. When one has seen as much as you they nor can more pretend. Or comprehend the faintest sign of light from within, that dark, dark cave, that whistles in the morn, which you will never run again through the fields of stone. And you will never laugh again or smile with the wind. Because it's gone, because it's done. But two tall strands bend in the breeze gazing at the sun. And there they stay and there they sway each nevermore to see, another day, another dawn together as you see.

February 2, 2011

What you see

You see me.
I see you.
But I don't see what you see in me.
You see more.
I see less.
You try, try, try.
And all you get is nothing.
Just negatives.
Just nos.
But you don't give up.
You won't give up.
You're too persistent.
And I feel bad.
But I just wish you would see,
I may be you're everything,
but you mean nothing to me.

February 2, 2011

Espoir

When the night grows to dawn and I sit alone I hope.
I hope.
When my life flashes by and I seem to fly I hope.
I hope.
When I've learned that it's done and the time has come I hope.
I hope.
When the casket gets brought down the isle with care I hope.
I hope.
You can take away my every part, my every thought, my every word.
But you cannot and you will not diminish, not even begin to diminish my hope.
My Hope.

January 27, 2011

Laisser Partir

Let Go, Let Go, that's all I've ever known. Let Go, Let go, learn to grow.
But here I stand, I've learned nothing. I've seen nothing. I just Let Go.
I Let Go until I have nothing left. Let Go of my everything. Let Go, Let Go, that voice repeats.
Let Go, Let Go, until you die.
Let Go, Let Go, that's all I've ever known.

January 27, 2011

étincelle

You stare outside the window. The bleak, grey window. You have memorized each tiny speck of dirk and have drawn pathways through it. You're following one now with your finger while the sunshine tries to seep into your dirty window. They tell you many times a week to let them clean it for you. Let the sun really shine through. But you refuse. You figure if you're suffering the sun might as well too. But recently as you stare out the window you are starting to wonder how you can clean the dirt off. A cool, special way. A way to get all the other inmates to come and watch. You don't want to clean it with soap and water. You want it to be amazing. You want the people in here to believe you are not a murderer. Not some insane psychopath that everyone else cooped up in here is. So one day you go to the counter and ask the nice lady in white behind it for a match. She asks if you want a cigarette to go with it. You shake your head. You go back into your room, if you can call it a room; a cement walled in space with one iron bed and a filing cabinet for clothes bolted to the ground isn't much of a room and there isn't much room for inspiration. You stand there in the middle of the room. The longer you stand there the long you come to the realization that you cannot clean the window. You cannot make the sunlight come in from the outdoors. Why would it want to shine in on your room? Your room which is dark and grey, just like the dirt that fills the window. Still wanting the sunlight in your room you strike the match on your cement wall. Taking a great breath you see the spark. Holding it close to your face you look deep into the little spark, one breath and it would be out. But you don't want that. You gently pick up the base of your tan colored shirt and ignite it. You take a deep breath as you feel the warmth from the spark spread onto you. But wait, no. It's not a spark, its the sun, in your cell. Finally. The last thing you hear is sounds of footsteps, people trying to get into your cell, inmates, people who never cared about you anyway. The spark, the sun has taken you away.

January 26, 2011

The Puppy (written December 6, 2010)

He left me hanging.
I was a puppy, he my master.
I followed him everywhere, I wanted to make him happy.
And he seemed happy.
Always talking.
Always seeming like he cared.
And then as if I had done something wrong, messed up in some way he took me into the woods.
Me, still being a foolish puppy followed.
....
Then he stopped by a tree, tied a collar around my neck, my tail wagging the whole time.
Attached a leash to that collar and tied me to a big oak tree.
And there he left me.
Left me confused, and unsure about what would happen when night fell and the days to come.

I wrote this poem/ story thing on December 6, 2010 in my journal but when I went to put it online I cut parts of it out, edited it and replaced some words. Anyways, hope it was okay! :)

Edited and posted: January 9, 2011

Car Lights at Night

There is nothing that can compare to driving home from play practice at night.
It's dark.
Flurries of snow smack into the windshield out of the blank darkness.
But that darkness is not just darkness.
In that darkness there is an audience.
An audience full of people.
Watching while you step out on stage.
And from that darkness a car light comes at you.
It's the spotlight being turned over to pan on you.
You bask in that sunlight.
You stare deep into the bright car light that comes out of nowhere in the dark.
The dark filled with people.
Filled with people watching you step out on stage.
Car Lights at night.

January 9, 2011