creative writing
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Day 1:
The half-eaten PB&J oozing
jelly on her nightstand
intrigued me, but the
smell of unwashed socks and
sweaty yoga pants kept
Bailey George,
O how I miss you:
Your shiny black coat with the crest of white on the center of your chest,
Your tiny ears that never seemed to fit your 95 lb frame,
It's been long,
Struggling,
Living life this way,
No longer functioning.
Sporadic moments of clarity,
Showing,
That life is not,
Dsyfunctioning.
The day I walked in this class,
My heart was so scared,
But your welcoming smile,
Is what got me prepared,
For all of the love,
In a world where you cannot show your feelings,
surrounded by only white walls and a ceiling.
Pencil to paper, words spilled on the pages,
i should probably
thank you.
when you left,
i had found myself.
in pieces.
when you had
gone, not just with the
flat screens & fine
china, but with the
Welcome to the Mirrored Place
Where the clocks turn counter-clockwise
Where we read and write,
From right to left,
Where normal is done in backwards ways.
Laura Weidemann
November 30th 2017
18lweidemann@nfv.k12.ia.us
Prompt-Write a letter as your future self to yourself now.
To Younger self in 2017,
It’s not what wakes me up in the morning it’s what keeps me up at night.
Because I wake up and my first words are
“I’m going to take a nap later.”
Then I get home.
Theres something for all of us on the other side
Something special, decieve us and we come to find
That all the evils that we've known correspond
with everthing we've ever wanted; thats no suprise
What potter molded your clay?
You stand so tall and mighty.
Your roots run deep,
and your colors change as the seasons do.
You battle storms.
No matter how much you sway,
you always stay.
People draw with silver.
It comes out red.
Magic?
People walk with gravity.
They end up weightless.
Magic?
People eat a day
The food disappears the same day.
Magic?
This is how I live now:
Wilted lettuce and second-hand shoes.
Photos of luxury through flea market frames;
Last year's fine china, ringed with watered-down booze.
Don't talk to me of "adulthood."
You quivered at the sound of rainas it seduced you into a wickedpleasure of placidity. I’ll never beable to comprehend how magnificentlybeautiful you looked as your taintedgreen eyes were fixated on the ripples
Taking a deep breathe,
the time has come.
The crowd is waiting,
Your heart is pounding.
The sound of your shoes clicking against the floor as you make your way to center stage.
