A Hole Dug Deeper

Well, I wrote this about a year ago. Literally, I hadn't touched it until about a month ago, and now I am posting it on my blog. So, here we go...

A Hole Dug Deeper~Savanna Brette Reich~11.13.12

death and divorce
both ugly, and broken,
rip the heart apart

death is one pain
its long  ...  deep
with   empty   spaces
But, you know,
reunion will come.
And, when it does,
the pain is gone

Until then, it is there...lingering
like someone dug a hole
in your heart
with a shovel.

Only time can fill the hole
never completely, 
always slowly

death and divorce,
both ugly, and broken,
rip your heart apart.

Divorce is many pains,
The first shovel in your hole
then all calms down,
into a "normal" rhythm,
the hole still there.

BUT, you see him,
your father, husband, brother,son.
You remember him leaving
nothing holding him back.
You are the nothing.
The hole gets bigger, another shovelful.

With time, the hole shrinks until
he digs again.
He found something, 
forget about us,
We are NOTHING.
We used to be something.

His happiness was once our happiness.
Its gone.
Another shovelful.
The hole dug deeper, never healing.
Although, time passes...

Trying to find normal,
it's gone.
Your heart has a hole.
Never knowing when that time comes,
there isn't a reunion.

He chose it. 
He chose death over you, us, me.
Over living with us.

There is a hole in my heart,
is there one in his?
I hope,
but know it can never be.

I hold on, faith, family
they carry me through
know
all will be as it should.

but

death and divorce,
both ugly, and broken, 
rip my heart apart.

the blue sharpie pen!!!

So, I am obviously not a blogger girl. But I try. I really do. For some strange 

reason, I cannot CANT! write on a blog every day. Why not? No worries, I am

 working on it. Well, for the mean time, here is a short story that I wrote

 probably three or four years ago. Not exactly sure. Enjoy!

the blue sharpie pen!!!

               

       I ripped the package open and stared dumbfounded.  I could not believe it! Blue. Anything but blue. I HATE blue sharpie pens. I threw it against the wall and it exploded all over my yellow-polka dotted wallpaper. Oh great what next. Suddenly my vision went into slow motion. I could see a drop of ink moving so slow, but so fast, toward my orange rug. NOOOOOOOOO I yelled! I dove to catch it but my desk got in the way. The last thing I remember seeing was the blue ink mixing in with the blood from my forehead, making a very beautiful dark purple.

.  .  .

    When I woke up thirty seconds later I saw the forsaken pen.  There it was, just lying there. The blue ink had already infected a third of my carpet. I had to act. I jumped up, then fell right back down again. Whoa I feel like I have been hit by a bus from both sides. Oh no what should I do.  I am too weak to move and the ink is spreading so fast.

MOM MOM MOM! Where is she? I need her. I started to cry. There is no more hope. My orange and yellow room is blue, I and weak and bleeding and my mom is out running errands, oblivious to my pain and suffering. Oh wait. I have an idea; maybe I can crawl to that evil pen, pick it up, and throw it away. I have to hurry, there is so little time.

.  .  .

    I woke up to my sister yelling at me.  “Guess what! We get to go to the beach today!” I got up, yawned, stretched, and pulled on my swimsuit. As I was looking in the mirror I saw the reflection of the wonderful orange paint. Oh it is beautiful. Oh my gosh! It isn't blue! HALLELUJAH! It was just a dream. I danced down the stairs and jumped into the yellow truck. I was going to the beach today.

COPY CAT

"Two can be as bad as one" ~Three Dog Night

Second to my sister, this is the 

second time she has asked me to write, the

second time I have touched my "blog", the 

second New Year's resolution I wrote,

seconding my drive to write more, for the

second time. Hopefully, it will only take a 

second.

A Tanka for my sista, tank.

~Tanka, it'is like a haiku, but with more syllables, I never heard of it until my sister wrote one. So here goes. enjoy!!

MARE  

There she is raging.

The ebb and flow, in and out

Smell the saltiness

Temper changes in one instant

And I sit watching alone

Hey there friends :D

So, I want to be a SUPERIOR writer one day. Everybody, literally anyone I have ever known, know presently, or have not yet met, says "To be a good writer, you have to write, every day." Face palm, sounds pretty simple. It's not. Especially during the school year, with my English teacher, the queen bee of busywork. Everyday after school I would come home, and think of my New Year's resolution I made at midnight....bad idea. I decided to write on a blog every day. But after school, that was the last thing I wanted to do. So I didn't. UNTIL....(da dada daaaa) Taylor. My dear sweet elder sister. The amazingly talented artist, who is not only beautiful, but smart and funny and dependable and just plain ol' awesome! She was cheering me on the moment I made that goal, giving me constant reminders, that I ignored. She finally came up with a fun way to get me to write. SISTER BLOG!!! Woot woot! She writes on her blog, then I write something similar on mine, and vice versa!! Well for fun! I loved the idea, but sometimes I am a little slow to jump on the train, well really slow. Finally, about a month later, and after she has already posted many things on her writing blog, I decided to join her. So, there ya go.