Creative Writing Assignments

S h a r p i e s / 8-25-10

My name is Carley ---------

and I am a sharpie addict.

Not just the cheap, counterfeit stuff

 you can find at dollar stores like

Shoupies, Shankies, and Sherples.

Oh no.

I'm talking the real deal.

The serious stuff,

from twin tips to sharpie paints,

sizes Ultra-fine to Magnum.

I even keep a sharpie graveyard

in an overflowing shoebox

beneath my bed.

Of course, I recently threw out

the few that ran out of ink

as a first step to my recovery.

In August 2010, however,

I took two steps backward,

Dumping my old sharpies

to make room for 48+ new ones

which include limited edition bonus colors.

Just talking about them

makes me want to "Uncap what's inside"

and doodle on every plain surface in reach.

I can only imagine what joy will come

in just four more days,

when I get my hands on the new

Sharpie liquid pencils

officially in stores as of September 2010

You know . . . 

I don't think I'm an addict after all.

N e s s a / 8-31-10

Yesterday,

She stood delicately tall

among the most treasured trophies.

ONce the face of beauty at its finest.

Unaware that she would soon become

the spark to her flammable environment.

Today,

she was carelessly robbed

of her silent pride.

Forced into the shadows of where she came from

hiding from the damaging awkwardness 

of facing those who once 

adored her unconditionall

now helplessly pitied and betrayed,

a reminder of how fragile we all are

Tomorrow, 

she can only hope that she will be found again,

and loved without heartache.

U n t i t l e d / 09-07-10

I watch helplessly 

as he absentmindedly

finds his feet dragging him

through daily, weekly, monthly routines.

Glancing away from his worn shoes

only for a moment to

subconciously hand over his ticket

and continue down the aisle alone.

One by one, the train is filled

with numb passengers

who have lost their way

their hopes and dreams

replaced by a suffocationg cloud

of lies  and limiting beliefs,

unaware of their individual destinations.

Trapped, he waits for

a silent sign to call to him

to let him know if it's time to jump,

free of his past and fears, 

Or sit there, blind, unmoving

as I beat on the window, frustrated

desperately trying to get him to snap

out of his trance, and see

that the train is going to derail.