How death woke me up

How death WOKE me up

 

When death woke me up it woke you up too. 

 

It was 2 hours after the clock hit noon

 

You couldn’t have imagined a better day for someone to take my life away. 

 

You’ll never forget the arch of my spine or 

 

The scar on my left shoulder blade, the size of a dime. 

 

I always hated it.

But you never did 

 

You just never spoke out enough to invalidate the negative thoughts that dashed 

 

In

And 

Out of my head.

 

Now more than ever you had wish you had spoken more 

 

Now you wish you would have appreciated my laughter

 

How I desired to be an actor 

 

How I was always willing to write another chapter in the book, I called Life.

 

I viewed life as an adventure while you 

 

Viewed life as an escape room you were too uninterested in solving.

 

When death woke me up it woke you up too..

 

Surprise, I’m no longer into you.

 

Dear Idiot

DEAR IDIOT

Holly B

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Dear idiot,

How come her and I were uttered in the same sentence as when you would speak your “I love you’s” to me?

 

How come you didn’t just take her answer “no” as not an answer at all?

 

How come you still wanted to be friends with her but not with me?

 

It’s  for the best because truthfully

 

I don’t want you, nor do I like you.

 

I know my worth.

 

I don’t need to be put to the test

 

I wont settle for second best

 

not in least will I be forced to compete with another woman to reach an inevitable defeat

 

You love her>

 

But a loss for you indeed.

 

I am a flower

 

Not a weed

 

I won’t be caught dating another dweeb

 

Saying sentences that always start with “She”

 

You deny that your feelings for her aren’t still alive

 

but I noticed all the warning signs.

 

You’ve been given so many chances to prove it wrong

 

But for me it was a relief to realize that you aren’t actually in love with me

 

Dear idiot,

go for her or just let it go

 

Your crazy obsession for her is too easily shown

 

Make a decision

 

Fight or flight

 

Red or green, run that light

 

Because the next girl that you meet will slip into the same shoes that warmed my feet

 

And with the same energy

 

She will whisper

 

“Baby I don’t compete”

I Am From

I Am From

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My blood originates from the slaves bound for America to the men that chained them for trade.

But I am from the dark wood paneled walls in my family’s humble abode.

I am from broken rosaries waiting to be restored within the unvisited drawers

I am from Christmas gifted dolls sitting placid on the dusty shelves of my pale yellow walls.

I am from Gameboys to playstation’s

From Slip N’ Slides to Lullaby’s

I am from Gecko traps housing the small slithering prisoners my brother and I would collect near the pond across the street

I am from the 2 identical bloodhounds lounging under the big white house at the end of the block

I am from my dark skinned grandfathers bad breath and his big smile to my green eyed Grandmas “sweet granddaughter” compliments

I am from my Mothers “dinner is ready” call, calling down her offspring in order Haley, Hunter, Holly.

I am from the smell of cigarettes engulfing me in my neighbors hug.

I am from my mother singing softly “You are sunshine my only sunshine” as she cradled my crying to a hush

I am from “you better go to bed now ya hear?” when I would tip toe down the stairs past my grandparents ‘deaf ears’.

I am from “yabba dabba doos” arising out of my mothers morning stretches

I am from “Did you learn your abc’s and your 1,2,3’s after being picked up from school.

I am from “who let the dogs out” when there was genuine curiosity to why the dogs were outside.

I am from a belly full of fried Oreos falling asleep in the back of our family excursion coming home the Houston rodeo

I am from a 7 layer taco dip that made you feel 7 layers closer to heaven.

I am from the warm, rich chocolate brownies my mother has perfectly crafted.

I am from a 50 count box of fried chicken from Walmart truly showing the deep seeded roots of my family

I am from the endless home video footage of football games and track meets.

I am from the 4 inch thick scrapbooks my mom would create in the room specially designed for the purpose of preserving memories.

I am from the life size Curious George stuffed animal that’s at least half the age I am. By now he has most likely grown grey hairs after being stuffed away in the attic for all those years.

sHe is home

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sHe looks at the city flats as sHe walks along the trashed curb.

Distracted by his voice sHe is called back to the streets,

it is people like that who walk with translucent heels on their feet.

sHe goes to the motel where Cupid never visits.

sHe’s intertwined HEr soul with so many others but still hasn’t felt a connection.

sHe’s never received the intimacy of eye contact until,

His exchange;

His eyes were a crystal blue like the bottle of vodka lying empty next to His belt buckle and shoes.

When sHe looked in those eyes sHe saw something new, something vivid, and possibly true.

He asked, “Have you ever known a soul who lied next to you?”

sHe had never rehearsed for a response to a conversation, so the silence was now her meditation.

The awkward pause weighted too great.

He put the crumbled bill on the crooked table and left her with “There is something better you can do, I can almost feel it within you”

sHe again was left alone..

 

Aimlessly walking to no destination, in deep contemplation sHe looks up to find some sense of relation.

Igniting that last cigarette sHe looked up past the church bell to read a sign that read;

…“I have been waiting to love you”.

Half of Her lip hugging the cigarette and the other half working to break into a smile

sHe permitted a laugh. It’s been years since sHe’s attended mass.

Staring at the stained glass on the museum of broken relationships, sHe isn’t opposed to going back.

sHe takes off those heels, shrinks 5 inches and walks towards a different path.

By Holly B

 

A message to you

When you met me I let you know that I was broken and without glue. Your response was “I don’t care I wanna be with you.” What I should have told you was “You’re a great guy I’m just not ready to open my heart to another.” I have to work on myself before I take my heart off the shelf. To say we’re in love is dangerous and to be with me requires patience. That is not to say that you don’t have what it takes. I’m just saying that I have to pull the brakes, before this leads to another fatal heartbreak. You may hate me or not want to talk to me but if you choose to be a recluse I will still visit you. I wish I could undo the choices I made with the boys before you but whats done is done its burnt out in the sun. If I had a chance to choose between him or you I would choose to be with you. To tell you the truth I needed a guy like you but I needed him a year ago. I’m at the point in my life where I want to live like a wildfire, furious and unstoppable. I hate to admit this but right now I can’t commit . You are my best friend so don’t think that I’m going to let this friendship sink. Great guy just not the right time. I’m sorry if this hurts in any way shape or form. Please do not let your heart be torn. This is hard for me too so let’s struggle together and see how our hearts mend back together, we can even wrap it in leather. Whatever the weather is, it is not my choice to choose to be together,  it is God’s. Let’s face it, we care for one another. But that doesn’t mean we are called to be each others forever. When one door closes another one open. Goodbye, I’ll see you on the other side.

Friendship 

My friends have a special place in my heart. Not because they have my loyalty and trust but because despite what they have heard of me they chose to get to know the real me. I mean well, I’m not who people say I am. So for those who do not know me, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Holly Rogers Bradford. I am a hopeless romantic, a wild child, a free spirit, and a fool. Despite all of this they still stayed by my side. Thank you for believing in me, believing in the person I created myself to be.

The wild ones

They said we would never make it, the kids who live on the edge. We live to the fullest, love with no limits, and dance under the moonlight until our hearts are content. They said our happiness would soon decay along with the dead flowers buried beneath our grave. I said “No, because the rebel in me will never cease to do nothing but increase the will to live. The rebel in me will never die” Apparently people like us are classified as “wallflowers, hippies, freaks, or theatre geeks. I may be a freak but I’m happy, are you?

Ashes of a flower 

I once gave you an envelope with two clues in it. You asked what the clue was related to and I smirked and said “I’m sorry I can’t tell you.” A shiny penny and a dead flower. You looked at me puzzled and confused and I just thought “boy am I in love with you.” You asked what the metaphor was. I’m a hopeless romantic. The penny stood for my lucky day which was the day I first met you. The dead flower stood for the love I had for you that died. I know you didn’t want to tell me that you no longer loved me but I already knew. This dead flower is for you.