Poem: Paper rose

The paper rose cannot die
It does not live
It holds no smell
It cannot feel
It just is

The paper rose holds the same symbol
As it's living brother
Love
Stiffer perhaps. Less real.
But there nonetheless

No, a paper rose cannot die
But it can burn
Just like the real one
So that only the ashes remain
Leaving them identical

To fandom

Some words were uttered
Both behind backs and straight into faces
Some insults were muttered
A life was destroyed

Tears were shed
Alone and in public
I wasn't strong, so I fled
And hid in the safety of my mind

A few years later they've moved on
They've probably forgotten but how could I?
They turned my life upside-down
They tore me down and left me broken

A few times things got really dark
I couldn't see the light
I didn't know what was wrong
But I was too tired to fight

Then something happened
And everything changed
You came into my life
And made it okay

You made me happy
You made me see
Thanks to you
I am finally free

I cannot thank you enough
That is actually true
Because I am finally myself
And it's all thanks to you

Short story: Her other half

“Annie, you are such an idiot! Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” Charlotte slams the door as hard as she can and flings herself onto her bed. Of course Annie just walks into the room without knocking or even batting an eyelash.

“Don’t you ever knock?” Charlotte grumbles into her pillow. She’s sure Annie can hear her, even if her voice is muffled by the fabric she’s pressing her face into.

“We share a fucking bedroom, remember?” Charlotte rolls over onto her back and glares at the ceiling. “Yeah, I remember. But most people would take a hint and stay the fuck away when I’m upset.”

That’s one of the few qualities the twins share, except appearance; they both curse like drunken sailors trying to maneuver a ship through a thunderstorm. “Well, it’s my bedroom too. You moping around over some guy isn’t going to change that.”

Charlotte knows Annie is just trying to irritate her. It’s sort of her thing, trying to get her to snap back. But Charlotte isn’t going to take the bait this time. “Close your eyes, count to ten, and take a deep breath.” She goes over the steps in her mind, created for Annie’s little outbursts. She succeeds in calming herself slightly, before retorting through clenched teeth: “Marcus isn’t just some guy, and I think I have the right to “mope around” after what you did.”

Tears she hadn’t noticed falling are quickly drying on Charlotte’s cheeks. “What the fuck? I didn’t do anything!” Despite her red and puffy face she still manages to look furious as she sits up in her bed, glaring daggers in Annie from across the room. “You didn’t do anything? You bloody well told him that I’m in love with him, in front of the entire class, before proceeding to tell him that I still sleep with a baby blanket. Which is so not true!”

Annie rolls her eyes, studying her nails and kicking her legs back and forth from her seat at the top of Charlotte’s desk. “Relax, Char. He’s the biggest slut in the entire school. He’ll probably fuck you even if he does think you’re still sleeping with your baby blanket,” Annie snickers. “You’ll get him for free.”

Charlotte’s face reddens, and she growls at her, her anger still raging inside her. “He is not a slut, and I do not want to … sleep with him.”

Annie grins evilly towards Charlotte. “Oh, look at the blushing virgin,” she coos. “You really need to get laid Char. I think it might loosen you up a bit. You’re always so uptight and boring.” Charlotte’s face reddens impossibly even more. “My sexlife is absolutely none of your business!” “Your non-existing sexlife, you mean.” Charlotte ignores her, and lies back down on her bed.

A loud meowing comes from outside the door. Knowing that Annie will refuse to, she stands up and opens the door. Timothy darts inside and jumps up onto Charlotte’s bed. Timothy has grey fur to match his equally grey eyes. She sits back on her bed and begins patting his back.

The patting session is interrupted by her phone, which suddenly starts to vibrate in her pocket. She pulls it out, and sees that “Marcus <3” is calling. Smiling nervously to herself, she tentatively answers, and moves the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she asks, feeling the weight in her stomach growing heavier with each second that passes. She was sure that Marcus would never want to talk to her again after the stunt Annie pulled. “Hey, Charlotte? I just wanted to tell you that I don’t care about what you said. We all say stupid things when we’re nervous, and – ““What? No, no, no, I didn’t say those things, Marcus. My –“

At that exact moment, at door slams downstairs, and a voice carries up to the room. “Charlotte, are you coming, we’ve got to go.” She looks at the clock at her nightstand and curses. “Sorry, Marcus, but I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She hangs up before he has the chance to answer.

She puts the phone back in her pocket and stands up. Looking expectantly at Annie, who merely raises her eyebrows, she asks: “Are you coming? You’re just as big a part of this as I am.” Annie sighs. “I guess I’ll come. It’s not like I have a lot of other options.” “Drama queen,” Charlotte snorts, before walking out the door and down to their mother, who Is waiting in the hall.

Soon enough, they’re all sitting in the car and racing towards their destination. “Mom, I don’t really get why we need to see a psychiatrist. I mean, of course we were all shocked when dad… when he died, but I don’t think we need to see someone about it.

Their father had died in a car crash two years earlier. It had been completely unexpected, and they had all needed grief counseling afterwards, but it had made them come closer together as a family. It’s sad to say it, but Annie and Charlotte had bonded over their father’s death, spending a lot more time at home, together.

Charlotte glances sideways at Annie, and she can tell that her mom does the same thing. “Yeah, we definitely need this,” says their mom after a few seconds of silence.

When they arrive at the doctor’s office they sit in the as-quiet-as-a-waiting-room-can-be waiting room. Finally, after what seems like an eternity of waiting, they are shown into an office. Three high-backed chairs stand in front of a deep brown, wooden desk. They each take a seat.

A middle-aged woman with grey streaks in her brown hair and equally old eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses walks into the room. She introduces herself as doctor Heibaum and sits down behind the desk. She looks down to straighten some papers and write something in a little black book, and then her eyes go immediately to Charlotte. She smiles, and opens her mouth to speak. “Charlotte, do you know why we are here today?”

Charlotte looks first at her mom, who looks nervous and worried, and then at Annie, who looks bored and uninterested. The doctor’s eyes follow Charlotte’s and stay at Annie for a few seconds before looking back at Charlotte with a reassuring smile tugging at her lips.

“Because of my dad?” she asks, a sudden feeling of uncertainty creeping up on her. “No, that’s not why we’re here.” Her mom sniffs a little and a glance at her tells Charlotte she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “Would you mind telling us… who Annie is?” Charlotte frowns. “What do you mean? Annie is my sister…”

Her mother wipes away the tears that have begun streaming down her face with the back of her hand. “What’s wrong mom?” Charlotte is beginning to worry. “I don’t – I don’t know what’s wrong with you Charlotte,” she sniffs.

Charlotte stares at her mom. “What? There’s nothing wrong with me!” Charlotte’s mother shakes her head a little. “Yes there is. You don’t have a sister, Charlotte.” Charlotte blinks. “What? Of course I do, she’s sitting right there!” She points to the chair next to her.

“No, she’s not, Charlotte,” says the doctor, sounding sad. She looks towards the empty chair next to Charlotte’s seat. “There’s no one there.”

Tell me what you think?

Poem: Tears

I let the tears fall
Only when I'm alone
I don't want their prying eyes on me
I don't want their pity.

"Are you okay?" they ask
"Yes," I answer.
No. I'm not.

I dry the tears
I always do
Before I open that door,
before I walk down those stairs,
before I turn around.

It's just easier, when they don't know
I don't want them to worry
So I hide it behind a mask
Behind a fake smile

I haven't been okay in a long time
I'm still not
But I'm getting there

Poem: The Monsters (Revised)

You remember the monsters,
that lived under my bed?
I don’t think they’re gone.
I think they moved to my head.

They still come out.
They still terrify me.
They’re more scary now,
than what they used to be.

I chase them away
But they always return
They never stop
I think they want me to burn

What do they want?
Why can’t they just leave?
Why are they here?
What do they achieve?

Someday they’ll go
Someday I’ll be free
I’ll make them disappear
And then they’ll let me be

I can’t wait for that day
When I won’t be afraid
Of being swallowed by darkness
To never surface again

Poem: If beauty's not important

If beauty's not important,
Then why is she hated?
She's incredibly strong,
but do you know how long she's waited?

She want's to be accepted,
but it's not that simple
She will be judged,
from every shoe to every dimple.

She'll wish she hadn't asked
She'll wish she had more.
She'll wish she had someone
to pick her up off the floor.

She'll lie there waiting,
for someone to come
But no one ever does,
and she needs to get home.

She'll eventually find hope,
just not today.
but after winter comes spring

with a warm, beautiful, May.

Poem: The Monsters

You remember the monsters,
that lived under my bed?
I don't think they're gone.
I think they moved to my head.

They still come out.
They still terrify me.
They're more scary now,
than what they used to be.

I chased them away.
Do you know what I had to do?
I just had to realise,
that I'm nothing like you.

I'll never be perfect.
I learned that the hard way.
But at least now I know how,
to chase the monsters away.