Envy in the Sixteenth Century

A Two-Part Prose Poem, inspired by the tale of Queen Elizabeth I
 My pain.
 It hurts, almost like the green monster has
 Plunged a knife into my
 Infallible, innocent, ingenuous
 Heart.
 The heart that has felt pain, yes,
 But not like this.
 My pain.
 It is almost physical,
 As I feel my heart's beat
 Loud and falling, like failure.
 Hurting when it sees
 What could have been.
 My sorrow
 My envy
 My hatred
 It tears away at my soul
 Blackening it
 Burning it
 Reducing it to ashes
 Every time I see
 Her.
 My sister.
 My pain.
 Upon seeing her, it increases
 Rupturing my body, my wounded, scarred body
 Crumpling my heart
 Tossing it in the fire.
 My envy.
 It relishes my emotions,
 Eating away until I am numb.
 Trying to figure out where I stand
 Now that all is lost
 And my very being is forsaken.
 My pain.
 ...
 My enemy.
 My bitter, sadistic foe.
 I know I don't have it
 But I know she doesn't deserve it
 She would lie, and cheat, and cry
 And still-still!- they would love her.
 Others would offer their hand
 Which she would take Break
 Until they bled, destroyed
 Having completed her every order
 What would they receive?
 Not a thing.
 Not a thing.
 Not a single, filthy penny.
 And still they bask in her glory
 Melt in pools of awe before her
 While I remain, wounded,
 The only one who could clearly see her true colors
 The only one who dared challenge
 Antagonize
 Her ugly ways.
 Who is the villain?
 You are, she would say.
 Showing everyone she is better
 Exposing me as the evil
 (Which I am, I know
 Or have become whilst drowning in hatred)
 But I know hers is greater
 Can I still rise above?
 I can!
 I will!
 I will show her I am stronger
 The prize she seeks shall soon be mine,
 For I shall hate no longer
 Instead becoming nothing less
 Than the sweetest damsel that ever lived.
 In my glory I will destroy her
 Exposing her by being what she is not,
 For it does no good to hate
 Except adding fuel to the fire.
 The flame that will be
 My legacy
 Breaking her, as she has done me.
 And together, we will go down in history
 As the queens, the sisters who would always be
 Bitter enemies.
 Once the scars of my pain heal,
 And my heart beats steadily once again,
 And my soul repairs itself,
 Justice, in all our evil, shall prevail.

Ode to My Passion for Poetry

Oh, how you sway me!
Your words like a dance
Moving
With ease and flow and rhythm
Oh, rhythm!
The way you remain in my head
Even after I take my eyes
Off the page
The leaps and twirls of your words
That make you so memorable,
I wish you were my own.
And then, my mind fills with doubt
My eyes begin to search out
The name of your creator 
The artist
The one that spun 
Your rhythmic, rhyming
Words
Into the cloth of silk that is you,
The poem.

Lifelike

Success
Is like
Floating on your back
In a tide pool
On a sunny day in summer
Failure
Is like plunging into
The icy depths of the sea
Gasping and struggling
To get out.
Life
is a wave
From crest to trough
Until it finally crashes
Striking the shores
Seeping into the sand
And back into that great big ocean
Again
And Again
And
Again.

The Listener's Lament

I get it already! Must you gush?
Ranting and raving, til your face is flushed!
Restating your point again and again
Delivering speeches that never will end!
Your mouth is open, your eyes are wide,
You're pouring out everything you held inside
And with it, you're a getting a bit carried away
For you never run out of things to say!
I don't think I have ever seen you be quiet,
And I think it would do you good to try it!
Tears of boredom have formed in my eyes,
If you say one more word, I think I might cry!
Although, however, there's something I must tell:
Despite all of it, you speak very well!

A Heated Argument

Is it wrong
To fight
When you know
You're right?
The victim refuses to
Testify
But just minutes ago
You saw it with your own eyes.
Yet...
It's your word against theirs
And they'll deny
Maybe even lie
Until you
Want to
Cry.
It's injustice in
It's most blatant form.
You want to
Fix things.
Is it wrong to
Try?
And yet...
This isn't
Your fight.
Why should you
Care?
Because you do.
Because you're right.
The opposition would like nothing more
Than for you to
Quit.
So they can win
This.
But you can't just watch this go by!
You don't care
if they feel threatened,
or scared.
Because you're there
To see justice through
But why is it
So hard to do?
...

Pictures of Then

My past isn't just
A collection of memories,
A black-and-white photo album of
Things I've seen.
It's a place.
A place for me
For me to visit in my dreams
Because you know how
They say
You can never, ever bring back
What has gone by
What has passed
What's already happened
And gone?
Well,
They're wrong.
You can go back
To those times you don't
Want to forget,
Or the way things were
And aren't, anymore.
In your dreams
And daydreams
And subconscious little games of pretend
Because everything today will be history, anyway
So why not live it like it was?
Go back to that place you
See
When
Your
Eyes
Are
Closed.
Your paradise
Your dream world
Because mine is simply
The way things used to be.
...

Waiting in the Wings

Do you feel like
You've spent your life
Just waiting?
Waiting to start,
Waiting to stop,
Waiting for the train to leave.
Waiting for the ball to drop.
Waiting to leave, to run away
To a place far away, you might say.
But not me.
Yes, it's true,
I'm waiting too.
But no, I'm not just
Waiting for time to pass
I am waiting in the wings
For my chance, at last
I'm waiting for my chance to do
What has never been done before
I am waiting for opportunity
To open its doors
The precious moments
Before the curtain parts
And I'm standing on stage, shining
Glowing in my spotlight
Is it all just a deluded daydream?
No, because I'm waiting in the wings
Ready, just waiting for my time to come.
Yes, it's true
You're waiting, too.
But I'm waiting in the wings.
Are you?
...