The Story of the 1000 CranesShe was sitting up in the bed, the head tilted forward and her back leaning against it. She had her legs under the sheets; it was a cool night. "If I could take this from you, I would, in a heartbeat. We love you so much," he was telling her. She was nodding. She kind of always knew, didn't she? "Cancer," the doctor said. Her dad was still talking. She was twelve. ...................................................................The Story of the 1000 Cranes
"What do you mean, your parents decided to go to dinner and drag you with them? Kristen, it's Relay for Life! They know about it! They know I'm the team captain and t
PaperPaper. I need paper. And a pen. Or a pencil. Or a crayon, A marker, A piece of chalk, Even a quill and ink Would work! Just get me Something to write with. Pen is preferable. I need To write. And think. And release, relieve, revive. My thoughts need to come out, And they come out best In poetry. So I write, Until every feeling Has been pushed out by my pen (or pencil or quill). Though the words must come From somewhere in my head, I am always surprised to find them On the paper, andPaper
GravityThe boy. The glass. The knock. The sudden slowing of time. Gravity extends a hand. It grips the glass In its cool grasp And pulls down. Hard. The glass shatters. Gravity’s hand is cut By a shard. It is enough to loosen Gravity’s hold for a moment, Allowing the shards to Bounce back up, But sure-handed Gravity Snaps back into action And grabs hold once again. The rebounding glass shards Are pulled down again And this time, They stay there. The boy, the shocked witness to The struggle that wasGravity
children's wordplaySticks and stones may break my bones, but words can break my heart. Your looks can make me crumble, and your silences tear me apart. I don’t understand this power you have over the way I feel. Your gaze, your look, your feel, your touch, all send me into a reel. You are rubber, I am glue, your attention clings to me, while mine bounces off of you. This all was so much easier when you were just a boy, covered in cooties and playing in dirt, and I wasn’t just some toy. So please let go your hold on me, I need to getchildren's wordplay
Devious Journal Entry
Content
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ღ Kristina Kotarski Photography ღ
ღ My Prints ღ
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"Dwell in possibility." Emily Dickinson
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"To be human is to be capable of the most heinous crimes in nature..."
-Wicked
R.I.P.
Sheryl Carraher 10/1/06
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