Author: Anonymous

Sticker from Zion

When I’m not feeling well or need a pick me up I think back to camping trip to Zion. I wasn’t feel well one of the days so while everyone went to the Zion visitor center I stayed behind at the camp site. When you came back you told me a very sweet story. When you were little you would get stickers when you were not feeling well. So you got me a sticker from visitor center to help me feel better. That was such a sweet and it did make me feel better.

Let’s just be completely honest……

I think the time has come to go our separate ways. Fully, this time. If you can’t be bothered with it, then neither should I. I’m sure you’re just stringing me along. Whatever you’re getting out of this, must be hilarious to you. Well good for you, but it’s not really doing anything for me. What’s the point of keeping my phone number if you can’t be bothered then? You’re ex girlfriend was telling me a few days ago that she actually thinks that you’re not worth the trouble. I actually believe her though. You’re only putting in half-hearted effort. Glad I didn’t hold on to that ring after all. It doesn’t matter if I remember you years down the line, it won’t stop me from being with another lad. It’s the truth. Memories are just that. Memories. It’s not as if I would die without you. I just think it’s a shame, but never mind, life goes on, and I always move forward.

“Michael Alexander” broke my heart and it can’t be fixed

I had a happy, fulfilling life up until the evening of January 5, 2022, when Michael Alexander failed to show up for his own live stream concert that I paid $24 to watch. Michael promised me an unforgettable concert experience where I would feel the same vibes of 70s and 80s classic rock like Journey and Boston, where I would feel like I was at an intimate “Karen Carpenters” show and then immediately be transported to a 100k arena Big League rock concert. You see, particle kinematics governs Michael’s existence, and the voices of those greats from the 70s and 80s (like George Michael, Michael Jackson, and one of the elves from the Lord of the Rings movies) lived on through Michael and Michael alone. His failure to appear has robbed me of the most joyous experience of my life, and I fear I cannot continue living with the disappointment and disillusionment I now feel. I tried watching videos of the original artists performing in their prime, but it just wasn’t the same. Michael promised me something as good or better than they did it themselves. He also explicitly stated that it was not a scam and that he would never do anything that was a scam because he would lose his fan base, his beloved audience. But now I’m not so sure. How could he abandon me like that, without even so much as a word of explanation or an offer to refund my $24? I was his biggest fan. Now the world seems cold and empty, and it’s all because this has-been was a no-show at his own friggan streaming concert that I paid almost $25 for.

Truthseekers

I put the show on for background noise while my husband is getting ready for bed. It opens with a young women running down a hallway, the lights flicker on and off before the apparition of a burn victim spirit appears before her, followed by a seemingly endless legion of other entities before cutting away to the protagonist being introduced to their work partner as they get sent out on call as agents of Smyle to fix folks broadband electronics while running into a paranormal plot.

Sorry!!

I’ve only just realised that I’d forgotten your birthday. Don’t scold me for it. It was with all of the hype about christmas, and what with your birthday being in December, well it does clash with christmas a bit. 28th December. I have remembered your birthday every other year, apart from THIS year. Hope you’re not angry with me. I would never mean to do that. I even forgot my aunty’s birthday, because her birthday is in December aswell. Her birthday is on christmas day, so yeah. I will just get you a late birthday card and a late birthday gift. I wouldn’t forget your birthday on purpose. There’d be no point. xxx

Denzel A

I have always had a thing about you. You’re impossible to please. You’re the bad one. The one who has all the qualities but you’re also a f up. You’re my one that got away.. and you went down this path of horrible consequences. I would have given so much to be yours. I believed in it, dreamt of it, prayed for it. The first time I saw you I thought “yep they will be mine” and you were but you were also always out of reach. I’ll never know if it was me. You’ve apologized more times than I can count. I never can believe it. I wont ever believe it. I have a note in my phone of you telling me you loved me. And I read it sometimes and wonder how true it really is or ever was. I wish I could have been what you wanted before you ruined your life. I wish things could have been the way i wanted. I hear songs on the radio and think of you. I have this weird connection where I can literally FEEL when you’re thinking about me… and when you’re going to reach out. I dont know why with you. I wish I could turn it off. I wish the ONE single time we were both available for something it would have worked. Instead you turned into a junkie and left me standing there with a broken heart, a load of doubt about what is wrong with me, and a lot of unanswered questions. Maybe one day things will be different. Maybe not. I do love you though. Deeply. Truly. Stupidly. You taint every relationship I have because all I want is you. Whatever we had, it was powerful and messed me up and continues to.

A freedom cry

Do you feel my longing?
I am sure you have forgotten
As if I had slipped out of a chasm
And into the dwelling of my own tears
While you floated away, unaware.
Locked in a prism of yearning,
The spectacle of light keeps me entranced.
But you have moved onto more shiny people
And I am still collecting poems written on walls of glass ceilings, unwilling to shatter
The mirage, the veneer of false possibilities.
It is not your fault you cannot love me.
You have always preferred wildflowers and sunny skies
While I have thought myself less of summer skies but a little more like Spring.
I am nothing like the poems you write
Of bold, intangible, undefeated women
And their intoxicating allure.
I think the best part of knowing you
Was that you helped me heal from things
I feared every day of talking about outloud.
And the worst part was knowing
You would never come close.
Do you hear the violins orchestrating another love ballad?
No, you have not.
This time though I hope you have deaf ears
And feel freedom wedged between the chapterbooks.
I know I am trying to find the purpose nestled in between each volume.

The year everyone left

I miss brazen faces
Lips are cold, heart is churning a dull ache
That never ebbs, it just flows.
I miss them even if they don’t miss me.
The detective keeps pointing out
Concrete evidence that leaves a residual haunting.
Fact, no one ever reaches out.
Fact two, you need to face a life without
Their ballbusting jokes and off hinged, no filter humor.
People call them condescending and pompous lately.
No one seems to remember their stardust and light that seeped on all our skins.
Maybe they forgot about me.
Maybe they never noticed me.
I keep rereading the passages trying to
Find any circumstantial proof
That I had left some type of good impression
On the imprints of their hearts but fall short.
I always seemingly fall short.
I guess the memories were more important to me.
The jukebox being turned on and off, those big, sinister, mischevious grins.
The way he always thoughts I was up to something when really I just wanted
To be a centimeter closer to their
Warmth.
I miss brazen faces, the bluntness of an opinion that hit close to home,
The stoic humor, the blank stare warfare,
The unending advice and quick witticisms.
No one here has the same pull on me.
No one here feels like home,
Just temporary fixes and an offbeat tone.

Lunchtime

The three of us are in the kitchen/dining area that sits in front of the hallway to the bedrooms and restroom. It’s bright snowy day, so the blinds are open and the lights are off. Suddenly the hallway light turns on without a body present to flip the switch. Everyone sees it.
I play with the switch a bit to see if it’s starting to stick in the middle but no it’s not.
Friends and family say we have a spectral visitor. As I write this, the TV emits a loud electrical crack that puts all my hairs on edge. The cats look up alarmed but soon resume their respective cativities.