siege

siege

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gift

You are a gift. You are the unexpected that comes on Christmas day. The perfect package, wrapped in a bow, but carrying untold joy and thoughtfulness inside. Your laugh and smile are priceless. Your eyes are calm on a hot day. But your presence is the real present.

water

I slip into your waves and realize that they have never been for me. The boundless depth. The rise and fall of the tides. These have all been a life led in some other atmosphere. Some other climate. A different equator. And yet the idea of the waves lulls me to sleep on my darkest days. And makes the mornings even darker. When I wake up and realize I haven’t drowned. (reposting for attribution to my existing account)

Hector was the most ordinary person you'd ever meet. Every morning, for breakfast, he'd have his two pieces of toast with butter, his cup of coffee, 2 cream 2 sugars, and read Marmaduke in the local newspaper. Oh how he'd laugh. He wished he could be as free as that loveable Great Dane! But Hector was in for a rude awakening.

We were thieves in the night, Fleeing, racing through the dark back alleys, Those filled with mystery, Darker than death, Or brighter than day, But our excitement propelled us forward. Thoughts of you get me twisted. I can't remember night from day, dark from light. I only know that you're gone.

He was lost among a wreckage of broken airplanes and jetpacks. He never got off the ground. Trapped in a plane of existence where no one flew. Or was ever given the chance To fly. Who knows what the future brings. More dirt. Always more dirt.

camp

I set up camp just outside my hometown, Waiting for the right moment to make my grand entrance, And blow their minds, The prodigal's son, Returning like telepathy, Invading all senses, The choruses of women and hordes of men would pour from the bars quicker than the liquor that had brought them there in the first place, And I would be exalted. Just give me a second to prepare, To meet the empty ghost town of my memories.

Compassion oozed out of his bones, All over the floor, Creating a slippery, yet cushioned surface, Which Rachel would fall into Again and Again and Again, Never leaving the house without it. Never knowing how to leave without it.

3.... 2.... 1.... Jeremy and Isaac ran furiously from the centre of the football field, sprinting as fast as their wobbly little legs could take them, and fire shot up into the air and illuminated the night sky. They were sick of the high school taking over their forest. These little badgers started the war with a bang.

Gerry poured every fibre of his being, From the day he hit puberty, Until the day the life slowly slipped from his body, Into the art Of being a gentle man. He raised his voice only once, At a fly that had entered his home, And the force of his wrath shattered its wings, And sent it plummeting to its doom. He died. And Gerry died. Absent of passion, With all his emotions and fears buried deep inside, And no one ever knew his true nature.

My breathing grew shallow, The walls closing in all around me, Slower than the eye could trace, Yet my beating heart knew the truth. Incrementally, one half at a time, I was being crushed. I only hoped that the walls never covered the distance of the other half.

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writing since 2010 · 306 entries · 297 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Siege showed up.

19longest streak

297days written

0.4entries / week

on this day 16 years ago

Siege wrote about decorated
“Adornments. Decorations. Pomp and circumstance. Bread and circuses. Relax. Breathe. Live in your own world and everything is fine.”

the words Siege reaches for

nowloveheartnightmindlivewalkedslowlylostwordsbeautifulairtryinghimselffellpower