I have had this book idea for about 3 months or more and I struggle every day trying to expand on it. (One of the reasons I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been writing elsewhere.). Tonight, I was able to break through the stone walls of writers block and surf the rainbow of imagination. I am only in pre-writing stages, but I plan to make it a short story. So, with that in mind, you can help. I am looking for first and last names that are french in origin. Comment your suggestions if you wish to help a fellow writer! Au revoir!
If you have been following me, you will notice that I changed my site name from “The Invisible Child” to “Siren’s Call”. Some may be wondering “why?”
First, it is important to know that I am struggling with alot in my life right now, which was the sole purpose for this blog. Though I hoped their was someone out there who would read what I had to say, I just needed to write it.
“The invisible child” represented only that dark side of me so I never felt like I was able to write anything else. Though, I write better when I am wrought with pain, I do have other ideas and thoughts to share. “Siren’s Call” will represent everything I need to say or want to say and the title is just as it says. It is a call for a listener. I hope those who follow me will continue to and I hope those who are reading this for the first time will enjoy what they are in for. Take care, everyone.
Do you…see me? After all, I am your own flesh, blood and first born.
Things used to be different. I used to feel appreciated and loved by you. Now I feel like nothing, but an afterthought.
You come through those doors and I look up to greet you, but you never look happy to see me. So what do I do?
I chase after you into the kitchen and sit at the table as I watch you unpack your belongings and try to make conversation..even small talk.
Our words die and we part ways until a common entity calls us together once again.
I often spend time in solidarity. I am sure you contemplate as to why.
Every time they awaken you from your daze, you answer. You are alert and interested to them when they request your attention even if they just wish to tell you about their day, upcoming events, or accomplishments or to complain about a rough situation.
Why am I different? Is it because I am disabled? Am I such a strain that even the mere thought of my voice produces a cringe upon your face?
Maybe it is because I am the academic failure. Surely you would rather hear about the success of an engineer rather than a failed musician.
I know. It wasn’t my fault and that’s what you’ll say.
I know I have limitations……
but that is all you see. You are incapable of noticing the dreams, talents and passion I am capable of.
Listen to my words and my feelings. You once requested I speak to you, truth. Now I am invisible. nothing…but a being who takes up space in your home.
See me. See me. SEE ME.
Be immersed in a colorful, contrasting part of your own life. Me.
I am different, yes. Though I am capable of great things.
See me. See me. SEE ME.
“I think about my mom’s note all the time – “Tell Meredith not to…” Not to cave? Not to care? Not to give up so easily? Not to fall in love? Not to have children? Not to tell a lie? She left me wondering what to do, what not to do. She left me knowing everything was up to me, and me alone. And, she left me with no one to ask so I would decide what she meant to write. Tell Meredith not to be afraid. Goodbye mom.”
-Meredith Grey/Grey’s Anatomy
I think about you daily
the things you’d do and say
I think about you until the night
And all along the day
And when it seems like all is lost
I gaze up at the stars
searching for honest answers
heeding words from …afar
This poem is dedicated to my Aunt Marie who passed away from Cancer at the beginning of March. I miss her and think about her often.
“You love her, don’t you?” He asked as a small grin graced his face.
“Is it that obvious?” I smiled like a love struck teenager as I watched her walk away and wished for one last glance of her luminous, moon-like beauty.
To my surprise, she turned her head just enough that our eyes met. My heart fluttered in my chest as my cheeks turned bright red. She waved back at me, her eyes glistening under the lustrous crescent moon. She turned her back to me and proceeded to stride further and further away, her long flowing brunette hair blowing freely in the wind.
I wanted to see her again. Before she vanished out of sight, I hurried toward her.
I hollered out to her. At the echo of my voice, she halted and spun around to meet my gaze.
“What is it?”
Shaking with unimaginable nervousness, I fell before her and took her soft, majestic, magic hands in my own and looked up into her clear, sparkling blue eyes.
“Moon Princess. I know, I must seem insignificant to you as I am, but a mere prince from this planet, but I…” I paused. “I want to know if I will ever see you again?”
A single tear slid down my face as I prepared for the worst. The princess smiled, knelt down in front of me and wiped my cheek with her sleeve. Then she asked.
“Do you want to see me again?”
She stared at me with a look of curiosity on her face. Without any hesitation, I graciously brought her hand to my lips and kissed it gently.
“I would love nothing more.”
Pictures are from the hit anime Sailor moon crystal. The first picture is fanart created by mimiclothing of Deviantart.