WreckingHavocOnPaper

There's a face in the window, Her pretty eyes wide, Her hair dark and flowing; She's after my life. It's a mirror, they tell me, The face is just you. Do they think I'm stupid, That I don't know it too? A mirror's a window, They're one and the same. And the face in the window Won't let me escape.

Sometimes he takes a walk when it's night And he looks up at that endless sky, And the stars look back, so small, so bright, Far-away winks, small teasing blinks; Tears catch in his throat as he tries not to cry. On a night like this he met up with his girl And tried not to fidget, tried not to show How nervous he was, how his head in a whirl. His smiles were lies; the stars in her eyes Watched him then just as they do now. 'Twas Valentine's day, the roses were red When he handed her the fresh-bought bouquet. She smiled and hugged them, placed them overhead, Tucked them nice and tight above the mirror that night So their fragran

She's never missed a day of school; The others laugh and wonder. How does she do it? She must have The perfect life—no sickness, no family emergencies. When she has a cold, she carries around A paper tissue, sodden with snot and tears— Sickness and sadness Melting down her serious face. Every morning she ducks her head So her face can't see the grown-up's frown. I'm going to school, Mom, and the word Sticks in her throat; She's not a mom. She clutches her books to her chest. Their knowledge is a shield from the world. The pen is indeed mightier than a sword When grasped by this bony fist.

I was blind. Not in my eyes, but in my heart. I never fully understood what my child was becoming until it was too late, far too late. There were signs, of course, hints of her true nature, but I was blinded by the love I felt for this child who had become my own. Blinded. Blinded by love, blinded by beauty, blinded by the utter wickedness of this sweet little girl. Looking back, I curse myself for not realizing sooner what she truly was. It all seems so obvious now. But then—then—when she was growing up—it was not so. For who would suspect that such a pretty little girl could be planning such things? And she was a very pre

There was a Seed, which fell on the ground, and it started to grow. (There was also a Man, but he missed seeing this because he was asleep.) The Seed grew into a Sapling, with three small branches and many tiny roots. The roots spread through the soil and the branches reached for the sky, and the Sapling embraced its world. The Man woke up. He grew angry when he saw that the Sapling had begun growing. "Why did you start while I was asleep?" he raged. "Well, never mind. I'm sure I can grow faster. I'm sure I can grow better." The Sapling unfurled ten delicate light green leaves. They caught the sunlight and turned it into delicious

The night was so dark that she couldn't even see her feet. What happens to the stars so deep in a forest? she wondered. The logical part of her mind screamed at her to go back. You'll kill yourself out here, it cried. And Tommy will wake up all alone, and he'll be scared but he'll wait for his Antala, and he'll wait and wait but you won't come because you'll just be another corpse floating down that river, and so will he, so will he. The thought scared Antala so much that she tried to turn back. But her mind was no longer moving her feet; the music was. The tempo changed, sped up. Antaa found herself doing a little skip even as she imagined h