WE DECIDE TO PAY A VISIT TO AUNT FLORA and she is not surprised that we are here.


"Hi Aunt!" I say to her as she opens the door after three great trials of knocking

"Good day ma'am!" Damien says as he notices aunt flora eyeing him up and down like he's a criminal.



"Moturayo Danielle Benson." Aunt flora says with a warning expression and christian gulps on my behalf.


"Ma?" I respond



"Oyinbo lo fe?" (it's a white guy you're dating?) she says to me with a look of disapproval


"yes na." I respond and she just rolls her eyes.



"Where's the poem christian told me about?" she asks and I remember why I came here in the first place.



"Here it is." I say as I hand it to her


-remember the first time we had sex.

How you asked me if we'd ever get the chance.

 

You said you'd tell me your "number"

As if that'd be enough to convince me,

enough satisfaction to dismiss my only promise to myself

by being one of 64 to know.

 

How honored.

 

You said "how 'bout just the tip"

And "all you have to say is stop"

But I never said GO or stopped saying NO.

 

How funny.

 

I remember how you pinned me down

And propped my legs in front of you so I couldn't move.

How "just the tip" became a painful push

And how afraid I was to push away.

 

How romantic.

 

I remember saying how uncomfortable I was and yelling STOP,

and how when it was over you were happy.

You seemed so proud and I was shocked by what you said…

"Does this mean you buy me lunch tomorrow?"

 

I left feeling disgusted, violated and guilty.

I convinced myself that losing my virginity was my fault

when having sex shouldn't cause blame at all.

 

How confusing.

 

For several months you had convinced me

that I gave consent and **** was impossible

for people who're "together"

and that sex was now okay

 

but not just okay—

 

Sex was an obligation.

It's expected.

And I shouldn't have been surprised

when suddenly one day you were seeing someone else.

I was a toy and you were selfish.

 

How disgusting.

Well, I hope you're happy,

I mean who wouldn't be if they got away with what you did?

And your 65th, I pray to God, won't feel like I did.

 

How special-

Aunt flora finishes reciting the poem and a look of horror spreads across her face.




"Get out and Christian get in!" she says as she drags christian in, locks the door and equivalently kicks Damien and I out of the house.




What the actual hell happened.



"Fuck shit." Damien curses 


"Fem." I reply



"What does this mean?" Dami asks


"it means Chris and I were right, it's not an ordinary poem. What does this basically mean?" I question and Damien is just as puzzled as I am.




"What do you mean by Christian and I?" Dami asks and I roll my eyes


"Alaye he's just my friend." I respond.


"I saw when you guys kissed."

Danielle is bent on finding the reason behind the death of her father and those around her. With the help of her sworn enemy, Damien, they embark on the journey to find the reason behind his death and those around her. 
 Mysteries unfold and everything is not what it seems.

There were countless of comments!
"Good poem!"
"Well said!"
"Fuck, fight it out with them!"
"Have long since chewed through my flesh? Isn't that describing Zhang Ye's current plight? Right, from the time he joined Central TV Department 1, they have been chewing through his flesh!"
"This poem is very similar to Dead Water which Zhang Ye composed in the past!"
"How long ago was it since Zhang Ye wrote a poem? I've already forgotten when I last read a poem by him. I can see that Zhang Ye is really furious this time. Every time Teacher Zhang gets angry, he writes a poem. But as for this soul wearing a pea-green vest? Leap out grinning from ear to ear? What does he mean by that?"
"I don't know either."
"I don't quite understand the last two lines of the poem."
"Does Teacher Zhang mean that he's going to show his prowess? But with what would he show his prowess?"
"Who cares? Anyways, this poem gives me the chills when I read it! It's incredible!"
... 
At Central TV.
Deputy Station Head Zhou who had helped Central TV Department 1 get the "loan" was just leaving work. While he was taking the elevator down, he heard the gossip of some staffers who were holding their cell phones and discussing in low whispers. They were pointing at the screens but he did not know what they were talking about. Occasionally, he could vaguely hear the words "Weibo" and "Zhang Ye."
Deputy Station Head Zhou asked offhandedly, "What are you guys talking about?"
The several of them hurriedly said, "Nothing, nothing, we're just chatting. You're off work now, Station Head Zhou?"
Deputy Station Head Zhou nodded at that. When he arrived downstairs, his chauffeur was already waiting there for him. He entered the backseat of the car before he took out his cell phone curiously to have a look at Weibo. At that moment, he saw the poem that was just posted by Zhang Ye.
Rotten fruit?
Chewed through by black bugs?
Deputy Station Head Zhou shook his head unhappily and immediately called Yan Tianfei.
The call connected.
"Hello, Old Yan."
"What's the matter?"
"Did you see Zhang Ye's poem?"
"What poem?"
"The one that Zhang Ye just posted on Weibo! Get him to delete it right away!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Go and take a look then! Take a look at it right now!"
"I can't check because my home Internet is down."
"Are you purposely pretending not to know? Your Internet is down? Fine, then I will read it out to you. Rotten Fruit. Black bugs have long since chewed through my flesh. / I lie on a bed of moss so cold it stings…" After he finished reading it, Deputy Station Head Zhou asked coldly: "Answer me, Old Yan, who are the black bugs referring to?"
Yan Tianfei answered without even thinking: "Black bugs are bugs which are black in color. What's the matter with this poem? Isn't it just describing a fruit that is slowly spoiling? The meaning of the entire poem is so clearly expressed. Rotten Fruit wants to teach people how to economize food, to pay attention to their nutritional intake of fruits and vegetables which should not be wasted. Otherwise, when a fruit rots, it will turn into a spirit that haunts people who waste their food. How educational! This passage is littered with ideas promoting a cultured civilization with the five disciplines and four graces!"
When he heard Yan Tianfei say that, Deputy Station Head Zhou nearly fainted!
Economize food?
Nutrition intake?
Five disciplines and four graces?
Fuck, where the hell did you get that from?!
Deputy Station Head knew Old Yan was messing with him. He was so angry that he hung up on him straightaway!
On the other end, after Yan Tianfei hung up, he gave a contemptuous laugh. You people at the station were so biased toward Central TV Department 1 that you didn't even leave a single cent of promotional budget to us. Now that you have forced Little Zhang into a corner, oh, you won't even allow him to write a poem to mock you for a bit? Ha, what logic is that! All the good things are always left for you, huh?
... 
Central TV Department 1.
In the program team office of Rise to the Dance.
"Hey, quickly have a look at this. That Zhang Ye has written a poem again!" someone shouted.
Actually, besides the person who shouted that, many of the other staff had already seen it. However, they were too embarrassed to mention it to others. After all, Zhang Ye had a rather complicated relationship with their program team, as well as with the two directors, Xu Yipeng and Chen Ye. That was why Zhang Ye's name was never casually mentioned within their office area.
Chen Ye frowned. "Are you the only one who has nothing to do?"
That person could only whimper.
Chen Ye ordered, "Get back to your work! Read something useful instead!"
That person hurriedly said, "I understand."
Actually, Chen Ye and Xu Yipeng had also read that poem. When they clocked out, Chen Ye took the initiative and left with Xu Yipeng. They went downstairs together.
"Zhang Ye was indirectly scolding us," Chen Ye said.
Xu Yipeng shook his head and just said, "Ignore him. He's only good at blustering. Do you really expect him to use a documentary to compete and fight it out with us?"
Chen Ye smiled and said, "Of course not."
Xu Yipeng couldn't help but laugh. "If we can't even beat his documentary, then we should just quit our jobs, pack up, and go home. Hur hur, the people in the program team now are the elites of the station, while the invited guests are all big shots. With every aspect of the promotions in place, would we be afraid that a documentary that no one watches would be a threat to us? Even if those hardcore fans of Zhang Ye really tune in to watch A Bite of China when it gets broadcast, it still wouldn't be able to apportion 0.0-something percent of our viewership ratings. 0.0-something percent? That is as good as a negligible figure, so let alone being a threat, it won't even be an obstacle to us!"
Chen Ye smiled and remarked, "That's right, Zhang Ye has really taken us to be laymen in this area. But even if it's a layman making a variety show, there's no reason it will do worse than a documentary's viewership ratings!"
Xu Yipeng stated, "In this past two years, Zhang Ye has indeed created some very popular TV shows, but this has made him a little arrogant and he has lost the reverence for this industry as well. We can't totally blame him either. As a director and host of variety shows who has been transferred to a documentary channel, he has never had any experience with documentaries before. He probably still does not know how deep the water runs for a documentary type of show. After his documentary gets broadcast, the viewership ratings and advertising revenue will make him realize that there some things that just can't be changed because of an individual's heroics. Documentaries are a stagnant genre, so no matter how good Zhang Ye is or how strong his program planning and directing abilities are, there's not much that he can do about it! No one can bring life back to that puddle of stagnant water!"
... 
At a restaurant.
Jiang Naixiong, Jiang Yuan, and some others had left work early and were dining together.
During dinner, an executive of Central TV Department 1 was suddenly stunned by what he saw on his cell phone. Then he said in a speechless manner, "Zhang Ye is making a scene again. He wrote a poem to scold us this time!"
"What happened?"
"Let me take a look!"
The several of them read that poem.
Jiang Yuan said angrily, "Rotten fruit? Black bugs?"
Jiang Naixiong did not look happy either. "This Zhang Ye is getting more and more out of hand. Not only is he mocking Central TV Department 1, he's even bringing Central TV into this?"
Jiang Yuan took out his cell phone and said angrily, "Who's he calling black bugs? I must call Old Yan, what the hell!"
A deputy director said, "Don't you know what sort of temper Old Yan has? If Zhang Ye did not write a poem and instead bluntly called out our names to scold us on Weibo, Old Yan would surely still pretend not to see it!"
Jiang Yuan felt a little upset and said, "I'm afraid Zhang Ye will stir up a commotion and affect the reputation of our Rise to the Dance. After all, it would be for the best if there's less negative news. This is the golden period for the promotions and the most crucial time for us! Can no one really do anything about this Zhang Ye? The show will be broadcast the week after next, but not only is he not worried about his own show, he even has time to bother other people? If he has the time, shouldn't he be thinking about what to do with that documentary of theirs which doesn't even have a chance to be promoted? If the viewership ratings turn out too low, who would be the one embarrassed instead?"
What imprisoned soul?
What leaping out?
You have already been transferred to the documentary channel, yet you are still thinking about giving others a face-smacking? What the heck! Alright then, we would like to see how you are going to wear a pea-green vest and leap out grinning ear to ear!
TL Note:
[1. "five stresses and four points of beauty"—requirements for a cultured civilization]

Zhang Ye was originally a mundane college graduate with aspiring dreams to become a star, but unfortunately has below average looks and height. However one day, he woke up and suddenly found himself in a parallel world! 
It’s like the same world, but wait a minute…many brands, celebrities and even famous works from his world changed and are gone in this new world! Armed with the profound literary knowledge of his previous world and a heaven-defying Game Ring that gives him magical items, stats and skills, Zhang Ye embarks on a journey to pursue his life-long dream of becoming famous!
Follow Zhang Ye as he takes the new world by storm, one plagiarized piece at a time, to hilarious reactions!

A haze of memories flooded his consciousness in his last moments before he faded from this life. He watched a scene of his father and brother grabbing a tackle box and fishing poles before getting into an old Chevy pickup. His father was a large man around 6'2 with a short brown-red beard and shaggy brown hair. He had once been considered very attractive, but I could only ever see the gruff man who taught me how to put a worm on a hook. My brother looked closer in appearance to myself, but he had a sharper nose smaller mouth, but he had a more mature personality making myself often feel unequal. Growing up I always hated fishing we either got up way too early or went out too late, the mosquitos we're always creating small itchy areas around my body.

It was a miserable time for us, regardless my father didn't take me and my brother out of kindness either. Per my mother's strong suggestion and guilt of being a bad father, she talked him into taking us with him. Which in turn caused him to sometimes be standoffish and sulking on the trips. I'm honestly not sure if he went fishing just to get out of the house or to have some alone time. I don't believe my father to be a bad person just a selfish person at times, he still provided for us and still suffered like any parent would make sure we were provided for.

I remember this fishing experience well, we drove to the local lake and I stood on the bank feeling tired and cold. The sky was still dark because we still had about three hours before the sun came up. My brother was a few years older than me he was helping my father unload the old Chevy truck my father was so proud of driving. Afterward, they started getting the fishing poles set up for our long night of torcher. I never liked bating fishing hooks whether it was with a worm, minnow, or a piece of chicken liver (the first two are alive and the last is bloody and nasty). Finally, I got a fishing pole and sat down in the sand to wait for unsuspecting prey.

…..It had been two hours and I had been setting in the same place for a while with no activity, and I was starting to drift off on the cold shore. Bump~ bump~ my pole shakes a little, not realizing something is different I remain dozing in the sand. Suddenly my fishing pole pulses hard and starts to fly out of my hands! Out of reflex, my small hand grasps the largest part of the fishing pole and finally, I'm shaken out of my sleepiness. My father sees the change where I was and yells out in surprise "Pull back hard on the pole as I taught you!" Remembering his lessons about hooking the fish I pull back and up on the pole in my hands. My father excited now starts saying "yes! Just like that!, That's my boy!" As he laughs between each comment.

After a hard-won battle was over, I finally got to see my prize it was a long grey fish with a large open mouth currently gasping for air with whiskers lining its face. 'Catfish" (was what my father said the fish was called) it's length was longer than my father's arm but he said it was still not considered fully matured. My father rubbed my head and told me he was proud of me, but I still had to take the hook out of the fish and toss it back into the lake. I was a little confused about why I had to go through all the effort to catch a fish but didn't get to eat the fish. I complied with his suggestion and as I tossed the fish into the lake, I remembered all this was years ago.

'I've already done this.' I said in confusion. I suddenly remembered my trip to work this morning, the kid in the street, and the train! "Dammit! Am I dead?" I looked around and what was once a peaceful scene of water and familiar love was now a dark world of wispy smoke. "What is this place?" I said out loud. "Take this kiss upon your brow…" A voice said but it seemed to come out of nowhere or everywhere. "A. A kiss?" The confusion was apparent from my tone of voice. "Look here voice I don't need any kisses just tell me what is going on," I said a little panicky. "And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow…" The voice continued as if it could not hear my embarrassing words a moment ago. "You are not wrong, who deem… That my days have been a dream;" A bad feeling started to come over me but the more I wanted them to stop the voice continued. "Yet if hope has flown away... In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none," I wished I was wrong the poem had a meaning in this situation and I hope I was overthinking the meaning of the poem but at this point, I couldn't be sure. As the poem finished its last few lines I said them together with the mysterious voice. "Is it, therefore, the less gone? All that we see or seem... It is but a dream within a dream." '~Edgar Allan Poe: "A Dream Within a Dream' I finished by saying the poem title and author and the voice that seemed to come out of nowhere stopped saying anything for a long time.

            What felt like days passed in this dark world of mist. "Am I in Hell?" I wondered out loud. If this is hell wouldn't it be full of fire and brimstones, possibly a demon or two with pitchforks telling me all the evil deeds I have ever done wrong? I think back to the poem I heard when I realized I was here. It was called a dream within a dream depicting a person that has died and realized his whole world was nothing but something he dreamed up, but the moral was 'would a world just because it was dreamed up be any less real if & when you lost such a world.' Of course, it wouldn't be any less of a loss, in fact, it would probably be more crushing. This is what he was afraid of was his life just a dream. His brother, father his family were just part of his or someone else's imagination. He didn't think he could take such a revelation, it was fine if he died but if everything stopped existing when he did… What sacrifice, what selfless act. It was all just…huff. He had to stop thinking about it.

            "I can assure you," The voice was back like it had ever left. "You have overthought the gift I have given you." Phil was relieved when he heard the voice's words. "I have read the poem to you to expand your mind about your rebirth nothing else." Phil was dumbfounded. Rebirth? What does he mean, like being born again? I was never really into the religious stuff and being dunked underwater seems like a public bath not really my scene. "Hahaha, no young one, not baptism although it's not as useless as it may appear. I am talking about reincarnation into another body." The Voice said obviously reading his mind.

I had to think this through he read a dream within a dream because he wanted me to think about the possibility of other worlds does this mean I will get a choice. "I knew you were a bright one although it took me interacting with you a little more to get your mind on the correct path." The voice said confirming my thought process, but he did seem a little frustrated I didn't immediately understand his intention but I'm not sure if anyone could get 'reincarnation' from the poem "dream within a Dream". "Ok, does this mean I can choose any world I can think of to reincarnate in, or do you have a list of possible places to reincarnate?" I said attempting to get a little more assistance in this little game he decided to play. "I won't be able to tell you everything a little one, but I recited the poem to give you an idea. Every story is real, and time is not a fixed variable" The voice said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

            "Then I only have one question more," I said need to know this before I continue. "Why me?" The voice that had been animated so much before had quieted to nothingness for a long time, He was so quiet I began to think he wasn't going to explain. "This is a long story I hope you never understand but I will sum it up by saying you are one of my own and refuse to let you continue the same." After a pause, he continued. "I will not explain further on this matter, but I will ask you where ever you choose to reincarnate let it be somewhere you can gain strength because in all realms 'Chaos' rules." I don't ask any more questions and think hard before giving him my answer. "I want to reincarnate as Goku from 'Dragon Ball' and I also wish to have a system," I say with conviction. "Very well. I will tell you your system will be limited and will only give you a little information and it will be up to you to get stronger. As his voice faded so did the mist and the world around me.

 The next time I open my eyes I felt pain as a weird-looking alien was looking down at me with a scanner in his hand. 

Phil dies saving a life of a small boy he is then reincarnated as Goku from a alternate universe from og. Watch as the protector of earth is now thrust into new situations.

Goku has lost everything he has ever known his family his brother, the only home he has ever truly known was in a different life. Choosing this life has given very little but a small chance of survival. Will he be able to even grow up into a grown man again? If he somehow reaches adulthood, would he be able to gain as much power as the original cannon character? Or could he even be more powerful... Behind the scenes forces are at work that will effect his story. What is the chaos realm? Find out these answers and more as the story unfolds on the next episodes of Dragon...Reborn as a Hero!
____________________________

Hey everyone, I want to thank you all for reading!
This is my first time putting effort into writing a novel so I do want some feedback on the writing quality and if you have a suggestion about the story. I plan on Goku having many love interests but not a tradtitional harem. If anyone is interested in what that  means you will have to read to find out.
 
Unfortunately ☹️ I am not a 'natural' at writing, I write my story because I want to be a part of this world and not just read other people's work. So each chapter is dreamed about wrote once on paper, then transferred to my laptop with a lot of editing between. Finally, after this whole process I listen to it again with TTS software and edit again. Sorry if you guys don't like the wait but I will try to send out at least 2 if we are lucky 4 chapters a week!

I hope you give this story a try!

(P.S. I like feedback currently I'm getting one or two comments and when I see these it does make me happy)

 (P.P.S if anyone understands how to get cover art for the book please let me know!)

Maid Chen( King Qiuyen ): I have news...
King Qiuyen(Maid Chen Ai ): it better be something useful...
Maid Chen( King Qiuyen ): I found a cure will not really...
King Quiyen( Maid Chen Ai ): What for real!!!
Maid Chen( Maid Chen Ai ): it not a cure but it does works but we could change back anytime but we have to have skinship in order to work we can't touch other people so I have to make you the Empress/Emperor if we can't for good...so?
King Qiuyen( Maid Chen Ai ): I don't want to...
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): even if you leave I would not stop you because you would never get married to someone other then me...
King Qiuyen( Maid Chen Ai ): why do you say that?
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): because your in the King's body you wouldn't get far you will get brag back to the palace....
King Qiuyen( Maid Chen Ai ): what are supposed to do then?
Maid Chen( King Qiuyen ): first we need to win the Poem Festival after that we can plan because it we can't win that damn festival everything will be useless...
King Qiuyen( Maid Chen Ai ): how are we going to win when.... oh we can't win easy with you in my body but how does the Festival work?
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): during the festival the Empress Dowager pick a word to describe how she's feeling...
King Qiuyen(Maid Chen Ai ): is that easy? that means can do it.
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): it easy for me but not anybody else because they're not the emperor I mean the king...
King Qiuyen:( Maid Chen Ai ): your already calling yourself the emperor if the Emperor Dowager hear that she will be very upset but the Emperor would be happy...
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): I'm calling myself the emperor because I know I'm going to be the only one to get the title...
Emperor Came In The Room
Emperor: so to come here with out announcing it... is this the maid that is going to participate in the Poem Festival?
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): ( how much did he hear? ) I'm Maid Chen ( bowed )
Emperor: so you telling me this is the person you want to marry....? What so good about her are you sure you don't what to marry a Lords Daughter or a Princess?
King Qiuyen( Maid Chen Ai ): ( why is everyone mean he had to get it from them ) Emperor you know I don't care for looks personally is everything for a loyal wife....
Emperor: you just like your mother... your mother was young when she was forced to marry me 16 I was only 20 but we respect each other and fell in love...( but unlike this maid your mother was at least a Lord's Daughter ) 
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): I promised that I was going to marry him when we was younger I never know he was the king I wait for him for 10 years...
Emperor: is this the girl you told me about? I wife still need proper education to be a emperor( even if she win the Poem Festival she will not be able to withstand Empress Lessons )
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ): to tell you the truth I'm pregnant with the Kings baby!!
King Qiuyen( Maid Chen Ai ): cough!! cough!! ( what? What is this conversation going )
Emperor: So your telling me one of my son got a cook pregnant now one of my son got a maid pregnant at this point I'm giving the Emperor title to my daughter!!!
Maid Chen ( King Qiuyen ):( obviously being pregnant is a lie but if we want to change back she need to be with me 24 and when we do change she wouldn't be able to bet those lessons those lessons are for Lord's Daughter and Princess not for someone that sells dumplings )










"It was the same for me, Levin. Before I even knew it, my heart already made room for her."
Levin was silent for a moment—not expecting what his brother Devin had said. He then heard the Soul Eater sigh as he continued explaining to him how he felt.
"Do you know the poem 'My Love' by James Russell Lowell?" he asked, Levin, furrowing his brows as he cocked his head to the side in wonder.
"Yes. Why?"
A melancholic smile appeared on Devin's face. He then recalled that Angeal had read that poem to him before, making him remember the contents. He knew the stanzas of the poem very well as he read it a lot of times when he was younger.
"I read the poem a lot of times—thinking how love could have possibly mean and feel," Devin answered Love's Overseer. "At first I thought falling in love was stupid."
Levin scoffed, chuckling at the same time.
"I know you thought of that. When you came to me before as I was doing my responsibilities as Love's Overseer, you were practically cringing—finding love a foreign concept in your vocabulary."
"True," Devin agreed, "I do not see why people feel giddy—why people fall in love—why people grow stupid sometimes when they love too much," he added, Levin, leaning on the pillar as he continued listening to his brother.
"I don't understand why they love too much—why people engage in relationships sometimes when they love less. I don't get why they cheat and I don't get why they commit. Love… it is something difficult."
Levin could not help it anymore. He laughed out loud, Devin, narrowing his eyes at him as Love's Overseer shook his head, finding what the Soul Eater had said comedic.
"But how about now?" he asked, a smile appearing on his face as his tone was turning serious, too. "Now that Angeal has appeared in the picture, you could say that now, it is different, no?"
With Levin asking him that and bringing Angeal up, Devin's lips turned into a tight line.
Devin agreed with him. With Levin pointing that out, he could now understand that now that he has found the love of his life after how many years when he believed he could not find someone who was capable of making his heart beat, Devin knew that Angeal was different.
"You don't need to answer my question," Levin said out of the blue, snapping Devin out of his thoughts. "Angeal is your one and only—the only person who's capable of entering into your heart."
Devin acknowledged what he said. He nodded, a small smile appearing on his face as he heaved a small sigh, Levin remembering about the poem that his brother mentioned earlier.
"Now what about this poem? Does it make you think of Angeal?"
"Yes," Devin answered, "It was a poem that Angeal had read to me before when I was sick. Now that I remember it out of the blue, it made me think of her in every stanza and in every line—the message of the poem finally understood."
After Devin spoke, he was suddenly surprised when Levin disappeared from his sight. In just a few seconds, he came back in his room, Levin already holding the Treasury of Poems in his hand.
Devin raised a brow at him, "You're planning to read it now?"
Levin nodded, "I want to know what you could possibly mean. I'm not familiar with the poem very much, so I want to read."
"Page 236 of the book," Devin instructed, Levin scoffing as he found it amusing for his brother to remember the page of the poem.
Levin went to that page specifically. It was a 10-stanza poem and the moment his eyes landed on the first page, he started reading, trying to understand the poem that made his brother think of Angeal.
The poem is entitled "My Love" by James Russell Lowell.
***
First:
Nor as all other women are
Is she that to my soul is dear;
Her glorious fancies come from far,
Beneath the silver evening star;
And yet her heart is ever near.
Second:
Great feelings hath she of her own
Which lesser souls may never know;
God giveth them to her alone,
And sweet they are as any tone
Wherewith the wind may choose to blow,
Third:
Yet in herself she dwelleth not,
Although no home were half so fair;
No simplest duty is forgot;
Life hath no dim and lowly spot
That doth not in her sunshine share.
Fourth:
She doet little kindness
Which most leave undone, or despise;
For naught that sets one heart at ease,
And giveth happiness or peace,
Is low esteemed in her eyes.
Fifth:
She hath no scorn of common things;
And though she seem of other birth,
Round us her heart entwines and clings,
Ad patiently she folds her wings
To tread the humble paths of earth
Sixth:
Blessing she is; God made her so;
And deeds of week-day holiness
Fall from her noiseless as the snow;
Nor hath she ever chanced to know
That aught were easier than to bless.
Seventh:
She is most fair, and thereunto
Her life doth rightly harmonize;
Feeling or thought that was not true
Ne'er made less beautiful the blue
Unclouded heaven of her eyes
Eighth:
She is a woman; one in whom
The spring-time of her childish years
Hath never lost its fresh perfume,
Though knowing well that life hath room
For many blights and many tears
Ninth:
I love her with a love as still
As a broad river's peaceful might,
Which by high tower and lowly mill
Goes wandering at its own will,
And yet doth ever flow aright.
Tenth:
And on its full, deep breast serene,
Like quiet isles, my duties lie;
It flows around them and between,
And makes them fresh and fair and green.
Sweet homes wherein to live and die.
***
After Levin read the poem, he closed the book. From the 10 stanzas that he read, now he understood how much his brother Devin loves Angeal. The moment Levin finished reading, Devin sighed, his words heard in his vast, dark room.
"Angeal… I love her, I really do… it makes me want to be with her, but I know I shouldn't."


"Devin, do you love me?"

Hearing her question that had snapped him out of his thoughts, the Soul Eater opened his eyes slowly to meet her blue eyes once more. He smiled foolishly as his right hand reached out to her face, his thumb caressing her bottom lip.

"Is that a question you dare ask your husband?"

Angeal pouted like a child. 

"Tell me you love me... or I’ll cry."

Devin chuckled, making Angeal pout more as she narrowed her eyes at him. When Devin ceased his jovial laughter, he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he bent down as he pulled her closer to him, his lips smoothly landing on hers to give her a loving kiss. 

’I love you, Angeal. Before I even knew it, my heart yearned for you.’

~

Punished by the Almighty Seraphim, Devin was branded a fallen angel and was given a curse to become a Soul Eater—a being who is hungry for souls and feeds on them for sustenance.

Devin was bound on earth, looking for clues on how to cure his irrevocable curse until a desperate old man saw the Soul Eater and begged him to save his newborn granddaughter’s life.

However... it comes with the price of selling both of their souls. 

With the old man giving both of their lives to the Soul Eater, what path lies ahead for Angeal as she grows in a house full of magical immortals?

~

The Almighty Seraphim sighed, shaking herself from her thoughts. She then spoke, planting more curiosity in the mind of the Dominion who was watching over the Soul Eater. 

"Continue watching over them. She is his cure, but it will lead her to oblivion.”

~

With the Soul Eater cursed and with them eventually knowing that the sweet innocent girl he saved is the cure, will their relationship be a boon or a bane?

Will they perhaps have sweet love, forbidden love... or maybe even both?

With the given thoughts at hand, will fate bless their lives... or curse them even more?

Let us know the answers to these questions as we unravel the story of Angeal being the Soul Eater’s Possession.

~

[WARNING: Some chapters may contain mature R-18 content.]

[FYI: This book is also a SLOW BURN romance. If you don’t appreciate slow burns, feel free to take a chance on this book if you want to. *wink*]

Volume 1: Nunc Domum
When the Soul Eater, Devin, and his personal servant, Ivar, found no clues about the curse, they finally went home after 18 years. However, when the two arrived in the mansion, Devin's curse suddenly went amok when he met the human girl, Angeal. What could be the girl's involvement in his curse?

Volume 2: Est Ignotum
As the immortals and the mortals spent their days with each other, they are more confused than ever with not only with the feelings they have for a certain person, but also with their background, with their loyalty, and with what lies ahead. To them, there are a lot of things that are unknown...

Volume 3: Actio Culmen Cadentia
The peak of their lives had finally arrived as secrets and revelations, stirring their judgments and what they believe in. As they all go on with their lives, what will they decide for others, and of course, for themselves?

Volume 4: Et Requiem
With all the events that had transpired, each one of them had started to question one's judgment and decisions. Now that these actions had been falling, what will Devin, Angeal, and everyone do to face what's ahead of them?

Volume 5: Insidiamini Torquet
Everyone's lives are now practically caught in series of unexpected twists and turns. As they are to face the challenges that are thrown at them, what would everyone do as everyone is in it for a shocking revelation about their fate? Will they fight for friendship, freedom, or for love?

~

Update Schedule:
Every first day of the month, story ends on December 2021.

Cover commissioned to: Chainslock

Entry for Webnovel Spirity Awards Spring 2020

Want to further show your support? Send me a ko-fi~! ^^
Link: https://ko-fi.com/mysticamy

"…sitting behind is care, but no effort left is there to share."
                One of the girls the room definitely recites her poem the least emotion. That last line tells everything why. Almost eight students have been called in front, and so far, their language is flawless. Most of them must have been to a state of America or Australia, but the Asian accent still finds its way to be felt between their words. Everyone is expectant to be called as Mr. Hwang once again stands in the middle of the front aisle.
                "Thank you Karen. And for the last presenter, let's have…"
                I can feel his intention to call on me. The willingness in the faces of my classmates is not strong enough to overpower my intimidation to be called in front. And without a doubt…
                "Marcus, please recite to use your poem that we may have a glance of who you are."
                Everyone is, once again, clapping at this new student who is the most foreign of all. The mere minute left for me to write has not given me enough time to artfully word the obscurity of my gender.
                Amidst the overflowing fear to be hated, I stand before these new faces who have no clue who is about to speak to them. South Korea is known to be one of the most conservative nations of this modern world, and what I am about to tell them will definitely alter their view—and to which direction, I am not sure.
There is a heart that beats
Covered by skin and muscles inside my chest.
For all, it works to provide life.
For some, it pumps to keep themselves alive.
For few, it throbs for someone else's love.
For me, it beats under my chest
Still unsure of which it for exists.
                I anticipate my speech to end in silence, but the burst of applause tells me that they did not grasp the hidden message that lingers with those words. They may have been amazed by the integration of elements in writing a good literature, but their focus to that makes me upset because the essence of my poem has not been savored accordingly.
                Nonetheless, Mr. Hwang's eyes whisper a message of understanding and worry. This gesture explains how much competent he is for this subject because he has the ears and eyes to discern.
                I thank the bell for ringing right on time. With that, I have a plausible reason to escape from the hook of everyone's attention. I rush to grab my things from my seat and pretend to take my time putting them back to my bag. I should feign being slow to buy them time to leave the room.
                "Marcus, your poem is substantial and creative." Mr. Hwang compliments when everyone has left the room except me.
                "Inside you is a poet whose composition is destined to be heard. To be written in just few minutes, your poem is just great."
                "…and brave." A third person's voice cuts my conversation with Mr. Hwang.
                His subtle movements make I and Mr. Hwang believe we were alone in the room. Nonetheless, there sits the tall guy whose desk is opposite of mine. But the growing pace of my heartbeat is not caused by his presence, I assessed. It is his comment which rushes the rhythm of my breathing.
                I know I am required to give the next comment, but there is nothing in my mind now that I can grasp to tell. Good thing the tall guy leaves the room right after he feels the awkward atmosphere.
                
                In all the classes I have for this day, that last class is the most memorable. By that, I mean, a bittersweet-kind of memory. Until now, my thoughts are hovering around the quick comments I received from being myself. I wonder how bare that line was.
       Still unsure of which it for exists.
                It can mean "unsure" of which person it is existing for. It can be that girl who attended the same school as I back in elementary, or that other girl who lives next to us back in the Philippines. However it can mean, I know in myself that it means it is unsure whether a man or woman it exists for… and two of the people in that room understood what I meant. Mr. Hwang's reaction has an embrace of encouragement, while that guy's comment does not clearly reveal anything at all. And that mere thing makes it even worse to think about.
                The depth of my introspection allows me to reach the dormitory unwittingly. There I stand in front of the door to room 408, thanks to that other guy in the elevator for assisting me find the place faster.
                On that door, there is my name and someone named "Kim Seung Min". He clearly is Korean, I thought. My roommate, I hope, is the best person I will ever meet in this country.
I tap the card that guy handed me in class. The door produces some sound which tells me it is unlocking. I clutch the knob. The room is more stunning than I expected! It is bright and very conducive for learning and writing those masterpieces I am about to create.
I remove my shoes before entering the bedroom proper as Korean culture has taught me. I caress most of the furniture in the room, and the mere touch of them shows me "heaven"!
I have never lived in this kind of luxurious room! I sniff the luxurious air that lingers inside my new room for almost a year. The scent is so aromatic that my eyes unconsciously closed themselves to heighten the moment's feeling. But that grand moment is snipped by the opening of the bathroom door.
Surprisingly, it is that tall guy in the classroom.
More surprisingly, he seems to know I am his roommate and my presence does not seem to bother him at all.
And Most surprisingly, he is not wearing anything at all!
                Let me correct myself. He is wearing his nude boxers. Sorry for the wrong info.

In that land he barely knew, he convinced himself to dare to play the most dangerous game. It is either he falls or he fails. Love just cant be won over.


After the poem was read, the entire room was quiet.  
Zhang Zian sincerely hoped that he was the only one who understood the dirty poem, otherwise it'd so embarrassing.　　 
Fina and the others didn't understand it, but judging from Richard's smirk and Zhang Zian's embarrassed face, they could guess that it wasn't a decent poem.　　 
"Meow! What does the poem mean?" Snowy Lionet asked.　　
"Quack! It's fine if you don't understand it. The poem is from A Collection of Classic Chinese Jokes, so it's out of date. To make it modern, I made some revisions. Please, listen," Richard shrank its neck and cleverly dodged a slipper that Zhang Zian threw, then it continued:
"Sitting alone at the desk, my hands are my wives. I'll never mention this to anybody;　
A Japanese girl on the screen, tissues lined up on the desk.　　 
Up and down, the story gets better. Fast and quick, my eyes are misty;　　 
As drops fall on the floor, millions of offspring turn into mud!" 　　 
Richard dodged slippers, socks, gloves, brooms and charging cables. It finally finished reading the poem." 　　
"Quack! The poem doesn't have a title, but I'd like to call it Nothing but Faithful Hands. What do you think?" It hid behind a shelf mischievously, winking at Zhang Zian.
Zhang Zian had thrown everything he could find, but still couldn't shut the parrot up. He held his phone in his hands, but decided not to throw it after all.
Snowy Lionet frowned, as if it understood. It spat on the ground in disgust. "You guys are disgusting."
Zhang Zian wanted to clarify that he preferred western videos, but he couldn't explain it explicitly, otherwise he'd fall right into Richard's trap. The more he tried to clarify, the worse he'd make himself look.　　 
This made him even more angry, so he pointed at Richard and said, "You've always been dirty. Today, you're dirtier than the gutters. Tonight, I'll spank you and make your bottom red!" 　　
Richard had been suppressing itself for a long time, and today, it finally got a chance to let loose. It screamed, "Quack! My past dirtiness isn't worth bragging about. Today, I'm wild and free, my dirtiness is without borders!"　　 
Old Time Tea took a deep breath. It patted its chest and said, "At least it didn't claim to be innocent."　　 
Zhang Zian glared at Richard. It couldn't hide behind the shelf forever, it'd have to come out to sleep sooner or later.　　 
Famous woke up because of Richard's loudness. It shook its fur coat and stood up. "I fully support Pi's novel. It's the only who uses my real name, after all."　　
"What's so hard about writing a novel? I could write one if I wanted." Richard said with pride.　　 
"You? Give me a break. Your novel would be censored." Zhang Zian would never take on such responsibility, letting Richard write a novel wasn't an option. 
He heard that people had been sentenced for publishing dirty articles online. It'd be horrific if Richard's filthy novels caught the Internet Police's attention. The Internet Police would never believe that the novel was written by a parrot, so they'd throw Zhang Zian in prison. He'd be molested in the prison, his butt would turn into a sunflower by the time he came out. 　　 
"Writing a novel isn't easy," Old Time Tea said, turning off the TV and taking a sip of tea. "A novel can be written to secure a stable life and fortune, to pass on lost teachings, or to establish peace for future generations. Various people can write the same story and the story will be different every time."　　
Its thoughts wandered, as if it travelled back into the desolate valley and listened to the young lady reading Kong Yiji. In that world, there was no Famous or Galaxy. In that time, it learned that some stories weren't written to make people laugh, some stories were written to expose the darkness and unfairness of society.　　 
Zhang Zian listened carefully, but that type of story was clearly not suitable for online literature.　　 
"Meow! Galaxy wants to hear Pi's story!" Galaxy's eyes were glistening. "Galaxy wants to hear Pi's story, too!"　
Zhang Zian hesistated. "Pi's story?"　　
"Meow! Pi's story," Galaxy said seriously.　　 
Richard stuck its head out from behind the shelf. "Quack? Did I hear it correctly? What's the difference between the two?"　　 
Galaxy nodded. "Meow! There's a difference!"　　
Zhang Zian was also confused. What the heck did it mean?　　 
He thought about Galaxy's words. He wasn't sure if he imagined the shift in intonation as Galaxy spoke. The first "Pi's story" was uttered in one breath, but the second time it said "Pi's story," the stress was on "Pi." Of course, he could be overthinking. 　　
If he didn't overthink, what story did Pi have? 　　 
At the end of the day, Pi was 3.1415926. What was the meaning of the numbers? 
He wanted to ask Meng Li, but he had gone home for the Spring Festival and he didn't have his contact information. Even if he managed to find the information, it'd be rude to bother him when he was with his family. 　　 
Zhang Zian knew that he couldn't figure it out anytime soon, as math had always been his worst subject. He said, "Fine. Pi's story and Pi's story. First, let's talk about the story written by Pi. I'll get to the story of Pi later."　　 
He clicked open Pi's novel, and started reading from the beginning.　
As time went by, the restless elfins slowly became interested, and listened quietly. 
"Wait a minute!" Fina suddenly jumped out her tree, as if its tail had been stepped on. It spoke furiously, "What's up with the A Dream of Two Thousand Years chapter? I didn't visit you, an earthly man, in the middle of the night. That's an insult to me." 　
Zhang Zian thought it was unlikely as well. Pi said it was "70% truth and 30% made up," but Pi clearly wasn't good at making up stories. It didn't do a good job of setting up Fina's character either. He said with an apologetic smile, "It's a novel, nothing more. Don't take it seriously!"　　 
Fina looked away, pouting. "You must tell Pi that this chapter must be revised, otherwise it's an embarrassment to me."　
"All right, no problem. I'll tell it in a minute," Zhang Zian said just to shut it up. He wasn't about to bother Pi, besides Fina would forget about it shortly.　　 
He continued reading.　　
After reading a few more chapters, Richard's duck-like voice was back.　　
"Quack! Stop! I think I saw an interesting comment from a reader."　　 
Before Zhang Zian noticed, Richard landed quietly on the display cabinet behind him, staring at his phone screen. In the Qidian app, the readers' comments were visible after each chapter, the most anticipated comments were at the top. One comment was particularly eye-catching. He wanted to pretend that he didn't see it, but he knew that Richard saw it.　　 
Zhang Zian realized that sh*t was about to hit the fan, so he stretched out his hands to hide the screen, but it was too late.　　
"Don't read it!" he cried desperately. As soon as the comment was read, his life would end.　　
Richard loved rocking the boat, and repeated the reader's comment at the top of its lungs, "Manager Weak Bird, are you fooling FatNa again?"　　 
The room suddenly turned silent, only breathing could be heard.　　
Zhang Zian felt a chill go down his back, as if a bucket of cold water was poured on his head. Two fierce eyes stared at him, ready to rip him open.　　
Fina stretched out its claws. It emphasized every syllable as it said, "Explain to me, how many times you've fooled me? I'm curious to find out, who in hell this FatNa person is?"
Crap!　　
Zhang Zian sat in the reclining chair, but it felt like he was sitting on a thousand needles. 
He complained silently. Which insensitive reader left such a comment? Does he want me killed? If I survive what's about to happen, I'm going to delete the comment and mute the reader. 　　 


1. Download a suspicious game
2. Catch a few magical pets as partners
3. Go through interesting daily routines and lead the pet shop to a whole new level

"I cast my gaze toward the moon, yet the moon shines on the gutter... Oh God." 

With such heartfelt words, obviously it wouldn't be Fatty Zhang or the rest who would recite it. Tai Yinzi stood at the iron window and lovingly recited the poem.

"Hi... Brother Zhou, what's the master doing?" Fatty Zhang lightly patted Zhou Xiaokun's shoulder and curiously asked.

"He's reciting a poem." Zhou Xiaokun also softly followed, "I cast my gaze toward the moon, yet the moon shines on the gutter. What a pity!"

"I know it's a poem, but what does it really mean?"

Zhou Xiaokun shrugged, "I like you, but you don't like me. Plus his wife died, so… maybe he is thinking of his daughter."　

"Well! Why doesn't he speak frankly!"

Fatty Zhang rolled his eyes at Zhou Xiaokun. Then he put on a pleasing smile and approached Tai Yinzi, "Master!"

"Don't call me master. I cannot accept any disciples unless my master agrees!"

"Master Feng." Fatty Zhang went on, "Actually, you don't have to mourn, happy things are going to happen."

"What?" Tai Yinzi turned around and looked at him in surprise. 

Fatty Zhang blinked his eyes, "Master Feng, did you forget what the date is today?"

"Today? Anything special?"

"Yes, today is special!" Fatty Zhang cheerfully said, "Believe me, Master Feng, I've arranged it well!"
Was this person the type that Boss Luo would call.... retarded?

Tai Yinzi frowned, "What the hell? Arranged what?"

"Hey! You'll see. Please wait!"

Fatty Zhang laughed, patting his chest, "Don't thank me. That's my duty. I'm loyal to you! Of course, if you really want to thank me, it is not like there isn't anything you can do. I am not good at anything, but I am a man that treats brotherhood very seriously."

Slapping his chest hard, Fatty Zhang said, "Those of us that walk the in the underworld place the greatest value on brotherhood. Furthermore, you are our future master. Your matters are my matters!"


"What are you trying to say?"

"Hey, surprise! Please wait!" Fatty Zhang patted the shoulder of Tai Yinzi, "The guard will call for you!"

What a ridiculous guy!

Tai Yinzi reluctantly shook his head and recited the poem again, thinking of the time he could get out of this jail--- The concert of "Germanic Chariot" was nearing…  

A sense of foreboding suddenly gave Tai Yinzi a shiver.

…

…

Long Qiang had been stuck in this desolate road for several hours. He shook his head and muttered, "Sh*t!". Then he saw his men come back.

"Where is she?" Long Qiang asked.

"Sir, we can't find her! She must be hiding!"

"Sh*t! What am I supposed to tell her fiancé!" Long Qiang brushed his hair with frustration.

"What do you mean?"

Long Qiang explained, "This is her phone. I answered a call from her fiancé. And I asked him to send some petrol over."

"Did he agree?"

"Yes." Long Qiang shrugged, "And he said he will pay for the medical expenses."

"He's so kind, sir!"

Long Qiang suddenly knocked his head and fiercely said, "What so kind! Why don't you kindly find her… Oh, God damn it, there's the phone again!!"

Qiang Zi asked in a panic, "What… what should I say?" 

The man's feverish and excited mind hurriedly suggested, "Tell him he'll see her if he comes with petrol. Maybe this woman will come back when she's hungry."

"Well, not bad." Long Qiang nodded, "I will tell him that!"

"Go ahead, sir!"

Long Qiang cleared his voice, "Hello...Yes, it's me! Where's my petrol? Good... Your fiancée? You'll see her when you come! Don't talk nonsense! Hurry up!"

Long Qiang hung up the phone and asked, "How… how did I do?"

The man immediately thumbed up, "Nice!"

Long Qiang smiled, "I also think so! My ability to bluff is marvelous!"

…

"Officer Lin, we've reached the location of Tao Xiaman." On the outer ring road, a policeman showed the computer in the commercial vehicle, "And they don't notice us."

Lin Feng nodded and looked at Zhou Zihao who was nervously holding two bags of cash, solemnly saying, "Mr. Zhou, just go and take these cash for the moment. We will protect you. But please wear this bulletproof vest for the safety."

"OK." Zhou Zihao heavily nodded, "But Officer Lin, be sure to keep my fiancée's safety first!"

"Trust me, we'll rescue her in safety." Then Lin Feng went off and seriously ordered, "Fall in!" 

When all of the policemen lined in front of him, he loudly said, "Please get ready and arm yourself well in case of dangerous weapons, even with guns... And you, give me one bulletproof vest…" 


Luo Qiu became the boss of a ‘club’ by chance. 

It was a weird club that sold strange items, assisted by a servant girl with 300 years of work experience. Countless people with dreams, hopes and ambitions came to the club, exchanging everything precious they owned just to fulfill their desires. They would offer their lifespan, items, and even their soul. Each successful trade would increase Luo Qiu’s lifespan by a little. 

“Tribute successful, your lifespan has increased by 99 years.” 

Thus, Luo Qiu began his endless life as the club’s boss. 



This is a critique of someone else's writing from my class. It starts with all of the poems, which are quite beautiful and emotional. It is clearly indicated where my critique starts. I hope you enjoy this as I certainly did.

lonely love.

you seemed so sweet, so innocent and pure.
you seemed to be the guy i was longing for.
the world saw us as friends, nothing more.
but to my broken heart, you were the only cure.

letters that contained our love for each other,
were thrown away, as if you were never my lover.
words meant for me, became meant for another.
we did things that i wouldn't even tell my mother.

kisses all over my neck and chest,
punches and slaps coming right and left.
never a night of peaceful rest,
yet i convinced myself it was for the best.

when you asked, i gave you ever piece of me.
even when you didn't, i'd just let it be.
there was never a moment where i felt free.
but i loved you so much, i just couldn't see.

then the night came where you decided to leave..
why did you have to leave so abruptly?
you told me it was never going to work out between us.
this is all my fault. it's all my fault…


up to you.

i feel like im always complaining..
and that bad things are usually my fault.
this feeling is burning through me,
raining fire, brimstone, and salt.

my heart is tearing me apart
from all the confusion and sadness.
but to them my heart is just a heart
to fill with all of their madness.

maybe i am too nice,
and maybe i can't say no.
but i guess i chose this life,
i mean, where else can i go?


you're delusional

you had me at hello,
and there was no turning back.
a smile, with such a glow,
i thought it was what i had lacked.

you told me to lighten up,
and maybe laugh a bit.
so i blindly remained stuck,
listening to all of your instructions.

what you wanted me to do,
was seen as terribly wrong.
but i thought i trusted you,
so i silently played along.

the smiling guy i had once knew,
was for sure far gone.
i would no longer dance,
to your twisted, sick song.

every single day,
i was under your control.
but i break free to say,
you're absolutely delusional.


spirit of fear.

clouded mind,
under the sheets.
tears falling down,
as night reaches its peak.

in public, in pain.
or alone in the rain.
my hurt takes a form,
that some call "insane".

i try to conceal
the things that i feel.
by smiling and laughing
i hope i will heal.

but my mind is so blank,
even when i write songs.
where do crazy people,
like me, belong?

i would run away,
but i'm broke and alone.
and this is the only place
i've ever called home.

i'm only okay when i'm by myself,
not caring for my body, my brain, or my health.
knowing i'm nothing, and help no one around,
as much as i scream, no one will hear a sound.


adrift.

i'm no longer in touch with reality.
my mind is adrift, but some would say free.
i'm starting to forget everyone's faces,
eyes and lips have become blank spaces.

i don't know anything or anyone.
and sitting in the dark, alone, becomes fun.
ignorance doesn't bother me anymore,
my mind is cold, and so is my core.

i walk all alone, with my head down low.
still smiling, even though i have no one to show,
still laughing, even though no one's told a joke,
and crying, because my mind is as cloudy as smoke.


honestly?

letting people walk all over me,
and use me to their will.
ill say "no" and "please stop",
but through it all, i'm unheard still.

no one wants to hear me talk
about the good, the bad, and the sad.
they cover their ears, and shut their eyes,
and forget about the pain i've had.

but that's okay, smiles on my face,
oh man, she can really act.
but the scars on my wrists,
and the tears in my eyes,
prove my story as a fact.


so greedy.

i felt like a pretty girl today,
just for a moment though.
thinking someone could actually like me,
there may be more to me than i know.

when compliments come, i reject them,
and shy myself away.
but compliment, after compliment,
the more i hear, i want to stay.

these kind words get to my head,
so when i don't hear them i feel ugly.
i allowed myself to believe such pretty lies,
how could i think anyone could ever love me?


trust.

i've made this mistake way too many times.
i've lost everything that i once called "mine."
my friendships, my boyfriends, my reasons to care.
my happiness has gone completely elsewhere.

my confiding in people has been covered by lies,
but no one would know because i've silenced my cries.
"just hold it in, you're almost to you room".
soon to let my thoughts consume me like fiery fumes.

if i say the rights things, and word it just the right way,
people will think that i'm better. that i'm really okay.
but i'm slowly getting worse, wearing a permanent mask.
and if i ever feel fine, it doesn't last.

It hurts to pretend, yet i do it so much.
I smile and i wink, adding a personal touch.
But as the saying goes, eyes are the window to the soul.
And my eyes show that my heart has a gaping, black hole.

-Start of my critique-

Dear S*******,

Overall, your writing does an amazing job at conveying emotions to the reader. As someone who has gone through similar pains and struggles in the past, I personally felt touched by this. I commend your bravery in putting this type of thing out there for others to see. Bravo. I will now break my evaluations down by poem. One thing, please excuse the improper use of pronouns if it does apply. I did not remember what you specified and I mean no offense by it.

The first poem you wrote was Lonely Love. When I read it, it was as if I could feel the pain that who I presumed was your ex caused you. I also had an ex-boyfriend who was quite neglectful. He never physically abused me but the mental is also bad. The line that really spoke to me was "But I loved you so much, I just couldn't see." Being blinded by love and other strong emotions can really cripple us. I once wrote a piece about fear and it conveys a similar message about being blinded by it. The last thing I have to say regarding this poem was the concluding stanza. The chaos and heartbreak in those four lines really expressed the confusion and pain that people feel when they are abruptly cut off from the one they thought they loved. One thing I believe could have contributed to improving this poem is adding a perspective of how he would approach you. Being able to have the reader see the experience of how he would greet you to add to the facade that blinded you would make for a much more comprehensive visual. However, this was a splendid work nonetheless.

The second poem was Up to You. It was difficult for me to determine what the actual theme or message was in this poem but I feel that I related to it in my own way. Through my depression and ADHD, I have always complained and blamed things that were out of my control. Then on top of that, I had always been a sort of therapist figure for my friends, even though I was too blind to solve my own issues. The part that piqued my interest was the concluding stanza. It really expressed the feeling that you are great for other people to lean on but can't even lean on yourself. 

The next poem was You're Delusional. I believe a better name for this poem would have been Sociopath. This term fits the theme much better. The description of the manipulation was masterful and abstract. Sociopaths are those who manipulate others for their own gains without care for other people's well being.

The proceeding poem was Spirit of Fear. I hadn't noticed it previously but I like how you switched up the flow in the poems in terms of rhyming. It made each poem read differently. As I read through this poem in particular, I was able to imagine the sound of torrential rain outside my window. I felt the chills and coldness of loneliness and despair. The facade that conceals your emotions also contributed to the feeling. It almost made me feel as if you were holding an umbrella during a storm while already soaking wet.

The next poem was called Adrift. I read this poem as if the person in question was a desensitized and lost soul, adrift in the void of solitude. The facial features of others dissolving from your memory really pushed forward that idea of being lost and not knowing how to get back on your path. It was a very interesting way to put it.

The next poem was named Honestly? I wasn't entirely sure how to read this poem but I decided that it made the most sense coming from a survivor of sexual violence. Whether it be ****, sexual assault, sexual harassment, physical abuse, any of those could be the source of this despair. Victims often don't get the support they need. Many people don't even understand sexual assault in the first place. I was in that position a long time ago. My first sexual experience was me being assaulted and I didn't even know until years later. The line, "Oh man, she can really act," really struck a chord with me. It would seem that putting up a facade is a common theme in your poems and it really provides a window into the pain behind that forced smile. I believe this poem would have been a bit better if the angle that you were coming from when writing this was a bit more clear as I am still unsure as to whether I read it correctly or not.'

The next poem was So Greedy. This poem really hit upon human nature and how it has developed in current times. Today, people crave the approval of others, constantly posting, showing off, and seeking that attention. Even negative attention can often fill that void to make people feel good about themselves. The last line, "How could I think anyone could ever love me?" was an interesting way of lifting the facade to expose the reality that hosts the delusions.

The last poem was Trust. This is a common sentiment that a lot of people who have been hurt by others have. Being unable to trust people yields anxiety and depression. I have felt this way many times. I have become cold and heartless in my pursuit of love, only opening up when I feel that someone is worthy. Unfortunately, even those that are worthy will often rip your heart out and leave an even bigger void than before. A line in the song Without You by The Kid Laroi really sums this up for me. "You ripped out a piece of me and now I bleed internally left here without you…" My one critique for this poem is that there could have been some better verbiage used in specific spots. One example I will give is the line, "My friendships, my boyfriends, my reasons to care." This line could have been ten times better if you used the word "lovers" rather than "boyfriends." This would accomplish a few things. First, it would improve the flow of the line, making it read and sound better. Secondly, it would make it so that anyone could relate to it rather than being turned off by the fact that it is from the perspective of a heartbroken girl. Lastly, having the word "friend" be said twice in the same line just doesn't read that well. The message came across just fine but "lover" would have sounded better. Overall, I really liked the poem and this one spoke to me personally just like the first one.

You did a great job on these poems. The overall critique I would have is to work on your verbiage in some places. Other words would fit better in those places to just read back your stuff and make sure that everything sounds good when you read it aloud. I do sincerely hope I get another chance to read some of your work.

-Alec Newman

This is just a collection of some random stuff I write. There is no rhyme or reason to them so don't expect them to be related to each other. Each chapter will be a different piece. Some might be long, some might just be a few lines. It is just a place for me to be able to look back at the stuff I play around with in terms of writing and I thought I'd let others access that place.

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