"Youthful Words" on The Redmond Reporter!

So excited to have my new column, "Youthful Words" featured on page 4 of the Redmond Reporter!  (Here is the online version.) If you're interested in submitting a piece of work to be featured in next month's column, submit your bio, a head shot, and your work (no more than 500 words) to my email. I am so excited for what's in store for the future-- young ideas are so remarkable. :)

Noir

Yesterday's tea was the color of deception.
--ornamented with little lies,
perfect storybook pictures,
and the aroma of never.

She came along,
eggshell yellow starch apron--
and served us.

We sunk back into our wooden chairs,
wishing we could fade into the cracks,
but each crack only stood there in place,
holding it's own ground.

Each of us,
in our quiet little wealth of knowledge,
praying to the deep blues on the wallpaper to take us in.

Just like the cracks,
the blue ignored us--
threatening to fade into the color of the skyline
and fade entirely.

We turned,
peering into our cups,
our last resort.

The darkness replied,
"Come in."

I told--

the little boy that passes by house each morning that--
I like the smell of happiness.

He came to me the next day with a bouquet of roses,
I stood in the light of my porch and smiled,
handing the roses back.
"Give it to your mother and tell her that you love her."

I told my sister the other day that--
I liked the smell of happiness.

She came to me the next day with the slice of chocolate cake,
I stood in my worn out pajamas and smiled,
handing the cake back.
"Give it to your daughter and tell her that you love her."

I told a lady at the market I saw the other day that--
I like the smell of happiness.

"I once told a little boy that."

Your Little Princess

Snow White wears a dress of ivory,
then gold.
She approaches me,
tells me her story,
for I am young and she is old.

By day Sleeping Beauty,
follows me mercilessly--
secrets in my ear,
quite and confidently
brushing away each fading tear.

Then night draws near,
my Tinkerbell here to stay,
guarding and watching me,
as twilight fades away.

These visions of princesses,
fairytales,
stories from the stars--
captivating me as my dreams spin afar...
They once told me that as the days grow into years,
You'll let go of these tales,
confront all your fears.

But let me just say it right now,
loud, proud, and clear,
in times of trouble
your princess will always be near. 

When It's All Shadows

Forbidden satin flowers
...that really only existed in her imagination.
They bloomed on a Friday.
A rusting key
...that didn't fit into the lock.
They never trusted her.
The slowly drawn blinds
...shutting tomorrow out from within.
They longed to be open.
The all-knowing antique doll
...sitting perched on her bookshelf
wishing it could tell.
It knew--
it knew.

And So You Run...

Stand. Up. Tall.
...and they will try to hurt you.
They will spin their words
like brilliantly arched arrows
critique and criticize.

Sit. Back. Down.
...and they will prod at you.
They will make each step a monument
of what you have not been able to see.

Run. And. Run.
Until you have left yourself behind,
left them too.
But they will follow.
Haunt you with their whispers,
glass words,
transparent lies.
and so you collapse.
Lay. Gasping. Here.
...and all they do is hide.

Journey to a 100 Posts

Yes, I know I haven't posted in forever (and I feel immensely guilty for that, you have no idea) but yesterday, while lying in bed (a situation in which I most often seem to have my epiphanies...I'm not sure if it's just me, but I always seem to have mini self-reflecting sessions before falling asleep), something drove me to check how many posts I've posted on my blog so far, and what do you know, this will make a hundred. (:

I know for a blog that's been fairly active for four years, this isn't very much, but Merry Go Round has definitely been a journey for me in and of itself and my blog has come to mean whole lot to me. Before this becomes a smattering of sentimental words and unnecessary emotions, I just thank all of you faithful readers who take the time to read when I do post (which I promise I'll be better about :P). Gracias!

On and final note, if there is anything I want to leave you with after reading this (besides the fact that I am and expert at rambling at precisely nothing ;)), I hope if there's one thing you take away, it's this:

Words sometimes can speak more than you think.

Try it sometime...try just letting go of everything (yes, I know very cliche, but really) and just write straight and raw from your heart. You'll be surprised at the results. Don't let any part of you tell you that what you write is wrong because it isn't. You're own writing can't be wrong. And I think that's what the beauty of words are. (:

Anyhow, that's about it for now, but without further ado...

At This Moment in Time

(told in...terms of music ;))

[once]

When I was just a little girl,

the charcoal grey of my eyes said plain...

simple. 

There was nothing foreign, no words to hide,

no lurking stranger. 

My friends and I, draped with the sleek white of innocence,

on top of the world,

reading to be a princess,

firefighter,

superhero.

Life was...

 all about us,

and we liked it that way.

[then]

One step at at time,

we learned,

 grew,

and we danced

danced the dance of recklessness, 

recklessness and joy

We were content and anxious--

Young blood. 

[and now]

Fifteen.

Suddenly, this black and white is filled with secrets.

And although often it make seem as if

every teardrop is a waterfall,

sometimes, we just stop and realize...

we're young, wild, and free.

Why Am I Here?

This little girl,
she wondered why,
asked her questions,
to the sky.

Hardly did she know
that the blue did indeed hear,
the clouds, they soon let go of her fears.

"because our life is bigger

than the sun, the moon, the stars

because here we are dreamers,

because we'll make it far."

So this little girl,
she said thanks to the sky,
Comforted from this simple reply,

and then she sang her lullaby to the ground

quietly laying her fears down.

Wishing you a Warm Mug of Hot Chocolate

I am the type of person who considers reading a book by the fireplace in my favorite beanbag with a mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows nearby...perfection. Pure perfection. This holiday season, I hope that whatever you define as your "perfect moment" may come alive, and wishing you the best in the upcoming year (: I know I'm a bit late on many respects...Merry Christmas! :D), but remember to celebrate the amazing world and people around you <3

Postcard of the Future

When your mother handed you your postcard of the future,
what did you think?

Did you dream
of fairies from far away places,
castles...
dungeons...
and dragons.

Did you truly and deeply believe
that Prince Charming
in all his elegance
would arrive
at a moment in your life,
pick up the fragmented pieces of glass
and fallen roses
and be a living dream?

Did you set your heart upon a falling star
that whatever you wished would come true,
imagine
hope
soar
and relish
of a beautiful world you knew you would see...

Then you told this to your mother
sister, father and brother,
they stared,
you felt ashamed.

But here's a little secret I'll tell you about this game.

When we were all handed that postcard,
a small, tiny fire inside
in each and every one of us,
counted upon these little lies.

Food for Thought

Silently Calling

Each scorching word

leaves another mark on the road.

Together, we dissolve in it's silence.

Silent severity

which we are unable to break.

She brushes her fingertips

gently

and deliberately

across this trail,

until their presence...

is merely lingering. 

They say...we are fighters.

Who have conquered days

moments,

fears,

who will together rise, 

and forget the cares of the world--

but they do not know of this trail.