All posts for the month November, 2014

How this will work

Published November 29, 2014 by imagine525

I’ll give you my deepest secrets

And my fears.

I will share them with you.

You will acknowledge them

And secretly beg for more.

I’ll try to satisfy you

But I won’t be able to.

You will eventually lose interest.

At first I shared my secrets

I told you about the goodness inside of me.

I will give you a key part of my life.

But that part,

Will be tossed by you-

Into the gutter.

Someone else will come along to gather your interest.

And I shall watch the best parts of me fall.

You will chose someone who will give you nothing over me.

I will watch my



And goals of having a friend

Crash down like a tree bring cut by an ax.

The two of you will walk away like it didn’t even matter.

Because to both of you

It doesn’t, does it?

Silly little thing



That’s how this will work.



An underground ride

Published November 25, 2014 by imagine525


I feel Cruddy.

I sweep my fingers across my skin.

It’s clammy from the humidity. It’s driving me insane. The thick windows from the subway reflect my sparkling skin. My face has to look like this from the lights in here- the ridiculous brightness- it’s reflecting off of the sunscreen I put in this morning. Why did I even put that on? Its not like I come out side all the time…Some sun on my skin might do me some good.

The train glides to a stop, squeaking a pissed off cat. “Step back, the doors are opening.” The female recording plays through the train before new people flood in. The musty air is weighing down on every person that walks in the doors. Every average man, women, and child looks like a tired city go-er who doesn’t want to deal with you, look at you, or even touch you. They play human tetris until they all find a spot that they fit in.   The elderly woman with the breathing machine gets the prize seat in a brightly lit corner- no one would push her out of the way. The blue collars are sitting on gum covered seats, each face is holding its own version of irritation and anger. The squirming kids with their brightly colored shirts are holding on too the poles with there parents surrounding them, glaring at the people surrounding them.

Then their is me, right in the middle of all this crazy. I’m sitting crossed legged, trying to mind my own self, with a brown paper bag with a everything bagel inside. I have plenty of room to myself- it’s just the average Monday crowd.

“Step back, the doors are closing” – the chipper recording plays again. The tired doors start to shut as an arm shoves through. The doors open again as a brightly smiling, scrawny girl in Roller-blades, steps inside.

You could see all of the adults eyes bug out of their heads to see someone who isn’t depressed. The blue collars don’t even look, and the breathing machine continues to hack away.

The only open seat on this train is next to me. She plops down next to me and I have to unfold my legs. I don’t like unfolding my legs.

I see from the side of my eyes that this girl is staring at me. um No Thanks. I Keep staring ahead. Slight irritation is bubbling in my stomach. I drown it out with a bite from my bagel.

“What flavor is that?”

My eyes flash to the left. The girl is watching me keenly. I take my time in sizing her up. She has smooth, white skin. Her eyes are beautifully wide and round- the color of a clear blue lake. I categorize her immediately as a middle class girl on her way to go meet some friends at a coffee shop. And she just broke the biggest rule of public transportation- don’t talk to other people.

When you take the underground ride you don’t make eye contact. You pretend the other people don’t exist. And if your like me you judge them so harshly, that it would be impossible to not see yourself as better then them. You catch your own reflection and sigh. You wonder how your life has dipped so low that you now have to take public transportation to get to school. You wrap your head around yourself, you eat your damn bagel, and you get off.

This chick isn’t doing that.

I stare straight ahead ad the train chugged to life. A minute passes and she is still staring at me. I just keep eating my bagel.

“The Onion flavor is really gross.” I can feel the air from her mouth as she talks to me. It smells all frutie like a lip balm or something.

I glance at the other people on the train. No one else is seeing this moment. This scrawny chick  with wheels on fer feet -on the train, is trying to make conversation. I stare ahead. Roller blades leans back in her seat with a whine- her hands across her chest.

“You know it is really rude to ignore someone.”

I exhale loudly- maybe she will get the point that I want to be left alone now. The train slows down.

“Okay- well, bye this is my stop.”

Who rides the train for one stop?

I stare down at my last half of my bagel. Her reflection in the mirror shows a stiff body posture with her arms crossed.

Is she really that mad that I wont talk to her?

I put my hand out with the last half of my bagel and she takes it and snatches a bite.

“You face is all shiny- it’s kinda cool”

She exists the train and I cross my legs claiming my superiority back.

The Raggedy Ann Story

Published November 21, 2014 by imagine525


Barbie had a hangover.


Raggedy Ann spent the morning cleaning up all of the evidence. She didn’t know which barbie had gotten drunk the night before, but having a kind heart was who she was. So, she cleaned up the mess and didn’t utter one complaint. She went over into the barbie aisle in her home, Walmart, and grabbed a barbie nightlight. She found barbie with her blond, plastic head, in the hot pink plastic toilet with glow-in-the-dark-flowers. Raggedy Ann has run into the barbies before, but none of them would even remember her. She knew that they have given her no good reason to help them, but she still did.

The Barbies have been at Walmart for as long as she can even remember. When Raggedy Ann got to the store she could tell right away that there was a huge difference between the two different dolls. The barbies has a first class ticket. They have there own aisle that is all pink, they have their own accessories, their own cars and there own boyfriends. The barbies all signed their name with a heart. And one thing you definitely noticed was that barbies only talked to other barbies and no one else.

All the dolls seemed to have barriers between them. There were the get real girls :

get real girls

They were created by the barbie haters who just wanted there dolls to be just as hot and pretty as the barbies. They tried there hardest to be friends with the barbies, they would even run errands for them. They would ask the barbies “Do you need anything? I could go get you a coke or something?” The barbies would respond with “You might eat that sugar garbage, but we have to watch our figure. Some of us care what we look like.”

Then there were the G.I Joe’s


And the Ken dolls

ken doll

They were so full of themselves. They would even try to catch their reflection in the shiny tiled floors. They seemed to date all the barbies at one point or another. Nothing ever lasted.

Raggedy Ann arrived at Walmart made in all different types of styles. Big ones, small ones, cloth ones, and even glass ones. She ease dropped on a human conversation once and found out that they would be kept in the window until they were no longer selling. Then they would be put on sale. The barbies who were so trashy and had such bad morals kept getting bought more and more.

There were also polly pockets:


And precious moment dolls:

precious moment dolls

They were all friends with the get real girls. They would talk about the barbies behind there backs “Oh my god, who would even want to be friends with such a witch?” But, they jumped at any chance to be friends with them.

Raggedy Ann had a lot of trouble making other friends. The other dolls sold so much faster then her, but not as fast as the barbies. Walmart decided they weren’t going to waste there time in stocking the shelf’s with “those dolls” anymore. “They just aren’t the kind of dolls the kids want.”  “There into more of the modern toys.” Raggedy Ann learned so much ease dropping on human conversation.

Raggedy Ann tried making friends. One day she introduced herself of the barbies: “Hi, I’m Raggedy Ann. I’m new here.”

“Obviously.” stated Barbie.

“Obviously what?” Raggedy Ann asked

“Obviously your new. Your actually trying to talk to me…hahaha.” And barbie walked away filliping her hair into Raggedy Ann’s face. (Tip toeing away because of the hideous shape of their feet.)

Raggedy Ann really wanted a friend, so she called out hopefully “Barbie? Is that your name?”

She turned around with an angry look on her face “It’s Coco- cola barbie to you. Now, if there is a point to this conversation could you please get to it already.”

“I just thought that we could…you know…be friends.” But the conversation was lost because as Raggedy Ann was talking the Barbie had left.

Raggedy Ann refused to give up her hope on finding a friend. She turned down the next aisle and what do you know, it was another barbie aisle. She forgot to realize that these ones didn’t have the heart logo.

“Are you looking for Barbie? Well we are like best friends so ill tell her that you were looking for her. Who was it again? Probably Magical Mermaid Barbie right? Wait, who are you?”

Raggedy Ann was so confused. She didn’t want to make the same mistake as last time so she joined into the conversation. “I’m Raggedy Ann. Who are you?”

“I’m a Get Real Girl. My name is Bambi. It rhymes with barbie. Those of their are my friends jasmine, corra, petal, and sea lion. Yea, were all good friends with the barbies. Best of friends.”

“So, what do you guys like to do?” Raggedy Ann asked. She was real hopeful that these girls would be her best friend.

“Oh, you know. The people who created us wanted us to like sports, hunting, swimming. All that kind of stuff. I come with all this hunting material, but I don’t really like it. I would rather be a princess. But with all the heavy lifting I do I don’t have to worry about gaining any weight.”

Raggedy Ann felt like a giant compared to this skinny thing next to her. Before she could respond Bambi cut her off. “Sorry I gotta go, Malibu Barbie is here to get me. Were going Shopping!”

Raggedy Ann was losing hope at finding a friend. She went down the next aisle and it seemed homey. The dolls were all running around playing with a ball and just laughing. Her hope raised again. Raggedy Ann put on her brightest smile and approached Polly Pocket. “Hi, I’m Raggedy Ann. I’m new here. I talked to barbie but-”

“Barbie? That witch” She cut her off. “God, you were talking to her? You don’t want to be friends with her. Right Polly? She is such a witch.” Before she could even respond she was all ready in another conversation.

“Excuse me!” Raggedy Ann yelled.

“Ummm, were kinda busy here. Why don’t you go sit with your own friends. You do have some don’t you?”

Raggedy Ann dragged her feet back to aisle seven were all the rejects were. And she realized that she was one of them. She had almost forgotten her experience with barbie when one of them came in the aisle drunk.

“Where am I?” She asked

Raggedy Ann calculated the number of minutes she had tried to be friends with the barbies and just stared at this drunk barbie with blood shot eyes and makeup sunning down her face.

Raggedy Ann realized that yea she might not have accessories, or tight clothing, a hot boyfriend, blond hair, or a skinny body. Her friends weren’t beautifully identical, but she didn’t even care anymore. She was better off with out them. They were not good people. So, She walked away as the barbie started throwing up all over herself.

You probably shouldn’t look at my Nails.

Published November 14, 2014 by imagine525


My nails look like tiny little

Raised bits.

Flat bits.
Chewed bits that would
represent the headstones.

The blood that sometimes comes

Is the lives buried.

The color is the flowers
left behind.

Every bite represents
My anxiety.

My sanity.

My health.

Bury my fears

Never look back.

Don’t let the world see.
But don’t be afraid of
being judged.

I know several things

that most likely died today.

Describe your first times

Published November 8, 2014 by imagine525


Now, I have had many boyfriends (well not that many) but none of them matter besides the one I with now. (I also really hate my ex’s). The first time we started dating was my freshman year of high school. We met on myspace (great place), and our first date was out to the movies to see yes man. Now, we only lasted a few months, but they were great. He graduate from high school and moved back home, and I thought I would never see him again. (I was pretty heartbroken). Then my sophomore year came around and one of my long lost best friends had moved home from Finland. And come to find out, the guy I met freshman year was living at her house for hockey. About after a month or so of me being at her house all the time, me and the perfect boy got back together. And we have now been together for five years.

“He’s not perfect, but neither am I. We will never be perfect. But if he can make me laugh at least once, and causes me think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold on to him and give him the most that you can. Hes not going to quote poetry, and hes not going to be thinking about me all the time, but he will give me a part of him that he knows could break. I wont hurt him, I wont change him, and I wont expect more than he can give. I shouldn’t analyze. I need to smile when he makes me happy, yell when he makes me angry, and miss him when he isn’t here. Love is hard when there is love to be had, because perfect people do not exists, but there is a perfect guy out there for me, and I have found him”

Happy couple in their new home concept

My first apartment. I am lucky enough to be spending this first with the love of my life. Is it perfect? No. It is a little one bed room apartment next to my college, close to his work, and it isn’t great, but then again it is, because I’m wouldn’t want to being starting this “first” of my life with anyone else.  The walls are all white ( and we are not allowed to paint them) but he has bought be really nice pictures to hang on them. We eat dinner in the living room, because our kitchen isn’t big enough to have a dinning room table. There are things that need to be fixed, and out neighbors suck. But hey, when the lease is up, we will move.


My first car. Almost two years ago my grandfather passed away. After he passed away, we learned that since the day me and my brother were born, he put money way for us. With my money I went out and bought my very first car. (Thank you grandpa). So, I was 17 years old and I really wanted to car to finally call my own (so, you know I could stop driving around my moms mini-van). So, you ask, What did you buy? Well, it was a very, very, very dumb choice, but I bought a 2001 Limited edition Pt cruiser. That car was reliable in away.I was never stranded, I only got stuck two times. (When the snow was half way up my door and the plow trucks weren’t going, and when my parking spot froze over). But, it was an extremely shitty car. It was in the shop every month getting something fixed. I’m lucky I have a mechanic who lets me keep a tab. Now the car is gone, and I have a much better one (Even though I just found out today something needs to be fixed), but what can you do. Cars break, and they break fast when you live in an extremely cold, snowy place, where the roads are always covered in salt…..

And then, my last “first” that I find memorable (up until this point) is:


My first dog. He is a miniature poodle where we kept the family tradition and named him after alcohol. I was just about to enter middle school and me and my brother were finally able to convince my parents that we NEEDED a dog. We found a place that had just had three puppies and we were going there the next day to pick one out. When we got there, I ran right inside to the puppies. There was one dark brown who was big, a middle one who was white, and a small one who was tan. And I was the one who got to pick out the dog, and I picked the small tan one. He is now nine years old, he has his issues, but I mean who doesn’t. He has become my best friend and I will be very lost when he passes.


Now, my question to the readers. What are some of your memorable “firsts”?



Your Future

Published November 2, 2014 by imagine525


You sat there so still,

Frozen in a glacial autumn breeze.

Leaves colored like fire twirl by,

Some dance around your feet.

You would asked me,

If I remembered the night

When we stayed up all night,


Reminiscing, on our past.

You asked if I wished things

Would have turned out differently.

I didn’t really answer.

I asked him,

to look around.

What do you see?

He said it looked like the hill side was on fire.

I could see,

In his eyes,

he wanted a different life.

I tried to tell him everything is fine,

Everything is perfect,

Look around you!

Your past is a closed door.

To open a new one,

You just need the right keys.

But, you have them.

Those keys are promised,

Into your own hands of faith.

With your prayers,

You can keep swimming into your future.

But, knowing you,

You probably hid those keys,

Over there, and you can’t see them yet.

One day, your hands will find those keys,

And you will see,

How easy it is to open those doors.