Monday, November 17, 2014
In her thoughts
It’s happening again! I’m standing in the lunch line at school and the girls from my class are talking about all the fun stuff they did this weekend. Then, there I am, having a full conversation with them but no one is replying. I’m laughing and telling them how I played flag football for the first time and actually made a touch down.
What ever that is.
I told them how my mom took me shopping and bought me the new Galaxy phone.
It’s red with a glitter case similar to Tasha’s.
We all have the same kind of phones now! Twinsies. My family and I went to the Grand opening of Red Dragon Pizzeria and my mom ordered one of each appetizer. My moms’ a food blogger so we get free invites to grand openings around town. I ran into Ashley there, kind of, I think she saw me. Yeah she saw me I think. I’m just going on about my weekend.
Why isn’t Tasha saying anything about me having the same phone as her?
Why is Ashley not excited that we both were at the Grand opening at the same time? Coincidence right?
We all are totally besties but I can’t understand why I never get any replies. I laugh at their jokes. I nod and say the repetitive “Uh huuh” , “oohh man” and “girl that is crazzzy”. It would be so weird to not say anything when they are talking, but why do they do it to me? Oh Yeah It because I never talk. I stick to the old smile and nod method. Outside of school I’m just a chatterbox, I always talk to my neighbors and I’m the local baby sister. Yet I can’t even talk to my friends at school.
I am always thinking about the day I will actually have a conversation with Tasha and Ashley. The jokes I have up my sleeve would crack them up in to pieces. They would love my personality and me. My mom says that being myself will bring me all the friends I can handle. I don’t think that is working. I am always having fun and going places on the weekends. I know they would love to come. I always think to myself. “ On Tuesday I’ll ask them, what are they doing this weekend” and then when Tuesday comes, silence it is.
My conversational replies are consistent.
My nods are convincing.
Words are not my friends when I am around Ash and Tash. Yeah those are the nicknames I call them in my head.
I never speak and I never talk. I have a sickness and it’s called “Shyness” Thank goodness I am pretty is all I can think because people tend to let me hang around them even if I don’t speak. That’s probably why they call me. “Mya Shy-Ya” I thought it was cute at first but the story behind it is Ugly.
I pray every day for a cure.
I wish on all stars, not just shooting stars.
I have wasted plenty of money on wishing wells.
I even have a lucky rabbit’s foot that I know with work one day, if not I have a bone to pick with a bunny!
Today Is Monday, and the next day will be another day I plan to talk to Ashley and Tasha. I don’t know why I pick Tuesdays. I guess I look at it as my lucky day. Went to school today and the same thing happened like every Monday. Conversations about what everyone did over the weekend and the homework we had. You know all the Juicy stuff that high school kids can possible thinks of that are just AMAZING to them.
Tonight, I got on the side of my bed I prayed to God,
I wished on all the stars, and I grab that bunny’s foot. I just knew it was going to work this time. Tonight, One of those stars shot across the sky.
Like a rocket, this star shot across the sky and sparkles fell like glitter from an art project. All I could think was, did anyone else see this? Was this just for me? I’m here on the side of my bed, on my knees, rabbit foot in my hand while both of my hands are clasped together in a praying position.
Was this a sign? Were my prayers being answered and this was God’s way of telling me “Mya I got you this time”
All the conversation I had in my mind for months we going to be in the past I Just knew it I felt it!!! I got in to bed with a smile on my face and hope in my heart.
The next day I wore one of my new outfits to school. You have to look good to feel good right? I wore the new mini diamond earrings my mom bout me and styled my hair in a high bun with a side swoop bang. I always like that style. I just knew today was going to be the day I engaged in full on conversations with everyone around me and people would be so amazed that I started talking and just want to know all about my life and all the things I did over the past weekends. I just knew today the disease was gone. I just knew that lucky rabbit’s foot was worth the pain he endured for my luck. I knew that this Tuesday would be the day to change the rest of my life.
As I entered the hallways of Woodward High, I feel like a weight was lifted off of me. I was waving at people, smiling and passing out high fives. I saw Ashley and Tasha waiting by the lockers. It was like I was meeting them for the first time. “Hey girls” I said in my sassy girl voice. They both looked at me like I was a stranger. ‘Hey” they both said in unison, looking at me like they had seen a ghost. We stood in the hall talking for hours. It never occurred to me why we never mad it to class. All I know is I was standing there talking to my girls and catching up. It was like I had so much to tell them. This time they were the ones nodding, they were the ones saying “uh umm” and “ohh man , for real” . I told them about the time I went to Disney World over spring break and saw Tasha there but was too shy to speak up. All the grand Opening me and my mom had went to but I never asked them to go with us because I was too shy to speak. I was just talking their ears off.
As I’m talking here comes my inside conversations again. I am thinking to myself. Am I talking to much. Why are they giving me that weird look? Do they really care about what I am saying? Am I the only 15 year old girl that goes through this or is this something that is special to me? Did that shooting star from last night change my personality? Did it make me better? Is this who I wanted to be? I wonder if there is a happy medium between being conversational and taking to much?
When I finally shut Up.
Mya!!! Who the hell are you talking too? Ashley yelled at me. “Yeah are you crazy or something? Tasha said. “What do you mean? I thought you guys hated the shy me? I said with a shaky voice but still a little excited. I gave a little fake laugh. “haa haa, umm why are you guys yelling at me”, I said. The school bell went off, then those sparkles from the shooting star fell right in front of me. Just out of know where, shiny star particles all over the floor. I quickly looked down, and then when I put my head back up all I could see was the ceiling to my bedroom. My alarm is going off, it’s Tuesday and it’s 10:05am, I am late for work. Work!! My phone is going off and I have 6 missed calls from my Employees ate the Woodward Café. I don’t know what Just happen but That dream was too real to be true. I sat and I though about all the stuff that happened the day before. What in the world made me have that dream and what made me revert back to being 15. I figured it out. This is what happens when You work at the local café and you tend to be noisy in others conversations. I remember seeing a small pack of girl come into my café on Monday, and I wondered how it felt to the shy girl at the table. I guess I drifted into a whole scenario about how I would feel if I was that shy girl hanging around all her friends. The moral of the story don’t day dream, you’re an adult go to work.
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
My Perfect by Deprina Godboldo
His hair grows straight out of his scalp unlike his peers; a brush can’t tame these tresses,
His mother said it’s been like that for years; his nationality takes about two guesses.
Cheeks plump like apples picked fresh out of an orchard, his lashes replicate extended crescents,
His huge eyes stare leaving the soul tortured, but his smile is never forgotten like perfect presents.
His neck rooted to his collarbone an Oak tree in the ground; his beard outlines his face like an artist’s first sketch
The chin is dented and round, to compare him to a beast would be far fetched
His broad shoulders are like a super hero’s posed before a fight, his chest is shining armor a remarkable display,
A thimble was used to create his torso just right, with a belly button molded out of clay.
The legs on this man are defined muscle; clothing was created just for his body type.
His workout must be a consistent hustle, God created him as the male prototype.
Feet soft like untouched cotton, scrubbed daily by beach sand.
His feet are not spoiled rotten, with toes that are not like any other man’s.
I can only wonder if his traits will pass on to my offspring; His genetic material is a combination of my obsession,
On his left hand he also wears an engraved ring, I must keep this to myself - it is my indiscretion
Toasted almond skin and he hasn’t aged, left with scars from youth but still no cracks
His persona is straight out of a book but not staged, He is my perfect and there is nothing he lacks.
They only see fun. In reality, it’s serious.
It’s raining and snowing at the same time, thundering and lighting in the middle of December.
The sparrow no longer sits on the branch because it’s replaced by crystalized water that has lost its’ battle with the cold.
Perfect day for movies and hot soup that is how she was raised. Today that won’t happen
A lost of power is a disaster for her parents, but it means scary stories in the front room
The whole day is not wasted; they can do what they want- She loves a snow day
The game begins, she hides and he seeks. In the middle of the day it’s dark as a cave with no exit.
The News is on but she can’t watch it, nothing in the house works but she is entertained
She builds a snowman, which later becomes the home for her favorite snacks.
Snow angels destroyed to keep the milk cold.
Making mini snow mounds was the name of the game. She new the power wouldn’t be back on until the morning but to them it was fun.
Like a plum, her cheeks became plump and shinny from the cold, it’s getting late and all she can remember is this was the best day and they had so much fun.
this poem is a remembrance of my childhood growing up in Detroit and having snow days in the middle of the week.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
I used to be apart of a crowd, around others that were just like me
On this day I was lifted high above my peers and tossed from one man’s hand to another.
I was cool before, I was comfortable and now I sweat slowly becoming empty.
You tore me to pieces like a dog, hungry for food stuck in a paper bag
I guess I should be thankful because you didn’t toss me in the trash like the apple
Her seeds exposed and stripped to the core
I was abandoned, like a plant on the window seal
I watch as people walk pass.
You only took what you wanted; you even lost my top, and removed my skin
I stay here holding on to the table for dear life hoping not to endure the same fate as the
Piece of fruit you shared with me before.
It has been 1 hour and the end is near- was no longer alone but now I am wasted
I see you apple, I see you sandwich and see you peel. I am not longer with others that are
just like me but with other that have been used before I. At least this time I can’t be bought.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
From 90 to 70 the temperature drops and the lights are lost.
Sound no longer bounces but echoes when there isn’t anyone around but you.
A cool breeze crawls across your back like a spider.
The tables become slippery as a slug and the moisture has left the air
The moon quickly replaces the sun, and clouds are no longer white but grey like smoke from a factory.
Bugs, debris and leaves have replaced the people, and they’ll disappear by the morning.
The trees are tall but not over powering the buildings around them.
They blend in with the malls’ décor like the organ in a cathedral.
More cars disappear, more people disappear and it’s only you sitting there.
The wind is still now, the parking lots are clear now and everyone has gone home now.
Seclusion is to be in sheltered or in a private place. Does it sound like I’m alone?
Wait, complete silence happened at 12:32am at the mall, It can happen
Just wait for it!!
This is my First poem to be posted in my Creative writing class.