Innocence Punished

•October 1, 2014 • Leave a Comment

This short story was written for my Contemporary Literature class. I am finally posting it. Please feel free to ask questions.

The pudgy nurse with the cupcake tattoo on her back entered the cold, sterile room. It wasn’t very specious with machines, a hospital bed and medical supplies crammed into the area. Also, placed among the numerous amounts of carted objects, was a small recliner reserved for sympathetic guests with pity filled eyes glancing at the patients in the Pediatric ICU. Her purpose was to shut off the irritating noise, a continuous beep that was interrupting the heaviness encompassing the room.

The woman sitting in the hospital bed numbly looked at the nurse; her eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep. She always had a sleeping problem, when she was younger her parents told her that she never wanted to miss a moment. That behavior did not change now that she had seen twenty-two healthy years.

The nurse waddled to the machine and made the room silent again and the machine go blank. The toddler tucked between the pillows and his mother had the appearance of a cherub. Color filled his cheeks, blooming like a rose. His smile was etched into his constitution, but the constant jerking of his body almost made it seem as if demons were trying to escape. The smile was overshadowed by the gaze the nurse gave the mother. This scene was where two young individuals, both smiling, but one out of habit to masking grief. The other smiled due to irreparable brain malfunctions. They were both so young, young enough to be someone’s children. But, who could that this mother, this “baby” has a toddler so young.

The nurse reached out and touched the mother’s arm sending a shiver down the nurse’s spine. “You should hold him now.” She whispered gently.

The mother raised her eyes slowly, words hard to manifest due to restraining of emotions. “But he will die if I do that, last time I held him his breathing became compromised.“

The nurse nodded, but as the statement left her lips another entity gained access to the moment. The world seemed to dissolve around the three of them. His appearance seemed to choke the life out of the young princes labored breathes. The mother picked the boy up, his body hanging limp from the lack of muscle tone. His infliction never allowed for tonality to heal. He was never mentally and physically capable of accomplishing anything by himself, yet with his simple twinkle and presence metaphysical ideas manifested around him. The nurse helped the mother position her son on her chest, his favorite place where his heart beat and hers thundered softly together, slowly fading.

The man in the corner stepped forward from his place; the mother looked at this man with contempt. His features speaking of an aggressive masculinity, but his eyes held the demeanor of an angel. Following orders, coming to retrieve a precious treasure not meant for earthly endeavors. The warm tears threatened to spill forth from her eyes, tears that were building behind a dam. Tears trying to crash against her psyche, praying for this release, but she would not allow it. Not when there was a stranger, trying to take a gift given. She whispered sweet nothings in his ear, small promises of furthering life. Prayers with no faith rather, remembering all the moments where she whispered the same sayings to an unimaginable being. Hoping that one day in her short life, through simple actions, would produce a miracle for the suffering child. Praying to a benevolent God who deemed her son not good enough to heal. This neurological atrocity could be placed on the shoulders of ‘It just is’, yes that reasoning was far more acceptable than an all-powerful man claiming because he deemed it so. While anger raked through her body, her eyes betrayed her. Letting out tears.

It was finally relieving a pressure that was built for three long, horrifying years. She could make out the man’s smile through the fog of it all, as he reached for the boys hand. As his arms stretched to touch the toddler, his glow slowly diminished until finally he enclosed his hand around the child’s limp one. His rosy cheeks greyed, and his supple lips cold with a lavender kiss. With one more breath he left the arms of his mother, and was standing near the man. Holding his hand and smiling. One that did not require a tremor to stir, instead it was placed there through freedom.

Peculiarly though, as this tragedy unfolded, a little girl ran past the hospital bed. Her origins unknown, but she was the same height as the toddler. A larger smile placed on her sweet face, her head tilted to the side causing her side pony-tail to swish. She looked exactly like the mother did as a child, a replica of the little lad, but without kinky hair. She hugged the prince and giggled, and they looked towards the mother then waved, and exited the room as if they left a different reality. They were all smiling except for the two empty shells on the hospital bed one cold from fresh death, and the other though the punishments of life.


I can’t breathe

•September 28, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Times Bitter Joke
The fog comes at night,
elusively holding my heart
and squeezing with each memory.
Faint shades of purple remind me of a breathe,
that released your pain.
Bottled up, like a pot waiting for the lid to be removed.
A longing for one more moment.
The yearning to hear the over worked oxygen machine,
and the groans that were incoherent.
The vibrations the bed made when fits were apparent.
The callous on my lip from biting back tears.
Silent prayers whispered for your comfort.
Then, gone.
You have not been with me.
Time is stretching my agony.
Again, choking what is left of my love.
I sit in confinement of my own punishment.
Sent to the woods in order to find myself.
She is here, with the rage and brokenness death can bring.
But still a smile, because the future holds breathy promises.
For now, though.
My heart weeps for your presence.


Inconsistent Torment

•September 26, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Dearest Reader,

I woke up this evening with a knot in my stomach and pressure in my chest.
As if to signify that I feel some sort of way, however; I do not know what that way is.

Thoughts run through my mind often, but they never really dwell on one specific situation.

I wish that during these times I could force the tears or even understand what is going on.

It could be that for the past couple of days I have been drunk for more than half the day.

Something I am not entirely used to.

Or the fact that I have no real solid plan about what is going to happen in my future.

Maybe that’s the beauty of living in the moment.

An uneasiness that can only be cured by the knowledge that possible divination could bring.

But I guess I don’t want that.

I find that I stop myself from regretting a couple of mistakes.

Because they were made during times that great grief would have taken over in place, potentially a saving grace if you will.

This past month has been incredibly necessary and painful only because the worst part about being in the woods without productivity is catching small glimpses of what you are really like.

Kind of like taking off your make-up and revealing that your imperfections are endearing and you are not that bad aesthetically.

My Korean drama is calling, and I hope this heaviness recedes.

My best friend said that my ‘depression’ is only a mask of grief.

If I ever had advice, it would be take the time to yourself and reflect.

Even if it seems impossible, the consequences may be worse.


Falls Sultry Promises

•September 24, 2014 • Leave a Comment

As the heat escapes the winds sweet ride,

Fall brings forth her cool touch.

Slowing down the urgency

That summer allows.

Hands intertwine in order to savor

What is quickly dissipating.

Husky whispers fill the air,

As the days become longer

And the leaves surrender willingly

To falls sultry chill.

All in hopes of a season that brings renewal.

Eventual newness in fresh begins.

Just as the flowers hibernate,

So will summer’s soulful passions,

Only to save room for Fall’s beautiful promises.


Janelle Gormley, September 24, 2014

The final chapter

•September 24, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The Final Page

The thunder matched how hard my heart thumped.

But the sky was clear.

The door opened, with the loudest of creaks.

Everyone paused and looked.

They could hear.

Smiles and surprise filled the faces,
Of once familiar friends.

My curls bounced with a determination,
As my feet carried me down the runway.

I held conversation with the boss, while he stood there.

Waves of indignation, frozen pride spilled.

I did not have the heart to strain my eyes and force myself to see.

Whether or not hurt was painted upon on his face or ambivalence to my presence.

Silence between both friends,
That promised a finality and the beginning of an end.


They knew,

•September 16, 2014 • Leave a Comment

A shiver
Was all I needed
To know that the wind last evening
Proceeded to touch my soft skin
As if intimately knowing, it was you

The bitter taste of back woods beer
Was washed out by the moon
Glaring at me as I sat on this roof

I climbed a top
My skirt shifted,
As if to betray my inner yearnings

Hoping the man beside,
Would touch me, as the wind had.
While the moon, again with it’s piercing gaze
Called me a harlot
Beneath the cloudy haze.

The stars winked, knowingly
As I proceeded to sit in the salty air
Above the town
Hoping to maybe release a tension

However the wind, once more
Came and caused the trees to whisper
A name I had long forgotten

With a twist and shake
A large smile from the man beside
Offered me his hand
As I climbed down the stairs
Twilight giggled in the after math
As I walked to my path

Away from the man
Who’s smile promised pure satisfaction.

September 2014
This was a pretty night, watching the stars with someone new.


Inebriated Poetry

•September 16, 2014 • 2 Comments

For a while

The slight buzz I received from cheap beer and overpriced martinis,

Allowed my mind to wander…

To a specific memory.

I was walking to my car,

In the downtown area.

I pictured you standing there drunk and full of emotions.

You grabbed my neck

And told me,

Something I think?

You told me I was incredibly beautiful!

And pulled me close, brought me to your person

Then I realized..

The months have flown by.

As if to mock me,

Because here you are.

Still as distant as the first time,

Your lips met mine.

It’s funny,

How time works.

Now matter how long it’s been,

It feels as if it occurred only moment’s prior.

(Written April 2014)

The story behind this poem goes back to the first time I realized I would be in deep trouble if I did not protect myself. Did I? Absolutely not.