Eva Grace A

Hope You Get What You Came For

Hello, it’s been three years since I saw you. Wait. Scratch that.  I believe it was four years last Saturday? I had no idea of your apparent existence until last school year when I got that friend request. There are so many things I wish I could expressed. Frankly, however, I am clueless on how to go about it. I’ve tried compiling the exact words, but it almost seems hopeless. To you, I am merely a child who may have been influenced by an adult, but that would be a lie. This is me speaking to you. I deserve better. I deserve to know.  With that being said, here I go finally getting everything off my chest.

How did you get the guts to kick your son out of your home? Was that the day your heart mutated into a black hole? You wrecked a gracious man that day; allowed me to witness him seek alcohol to heal his agony. When you broke him, you broke me. When I try explaining why I have become estranged from you, I have no idea how to explain all the pain you caused. You were suppose to be the master of baked goods and hugs. A specialist in affection and concern. If we’re being honest, you are only good at manipulation and exclusion. I refuse to submit to your trickery.

While we’re on the topic of myself, I would like to congratulate you. Not only have you ruined this sacred bond, but now, you have the privilege of viewing my life from a computer screen. For years, you blocked out my pleas to allow me in, but I am done trying. I am not going to apologize for being who I am. It’s just a shame you cannot accept that. You also helped my parents and I to grow closer, which is something I have always dreamed of, so I guess, in a way, thank you.

There is no way of predicting how you are going to react, even if you chose to. What’s the worst you can do anyways? You’ve already walked out once before.



I fell for your bait.

You came into my life riding a white stallion; promising to make everything alright again. Your words and motives were like gold, but I was just a fool. Little did I know you were a hurricane, leaving devastation and heartache in our little old town. People gave me the warning to put my walls up; that you were the oncoming storm. You would cause a flood yet I let you in, dismissing the warning, and believed they were not referring to you. You were everything I desired, originally. I chose you without knowing how toxic you were. I, Snow White, took a bite out of your juicy red apple. I am just another name for you to cross off.

I fell for your bait, and now, you’re off to your next victim.



I will never know what it is like to be targeted for the color of my skin. We live in a nation that claims to be a melting pot where all who step foot on our rich soil are granted freedom and equality. We are meant to open our arms to those seeking refuge; a warm welcome from a dark reality.  What happened? A majority are fighting for the common good yet the select few are undermining all values set in the Declaration. America has been contaminated with a lethal pathogen. Side effects may include racism, ignorance, exclusion, homophobia, and other socially impairing actions that result in discrimination. This is the twenty-first century, not the 1920s.

I am no longer proud to call myself American if it means Dev is afraid to walk to 7/11, or if Marquel has been victim to police brutality at the age of fourteen. I am not proud to be American if it means certain minorities don’t have the same rights as you and me.

We were suppose to live in the promised land, but when did those promises go invalid?


Boy From Science Class

Why do I keep doing this to myself? You are a fierce tsunami yet you only feel your impact like rain. I look into your eyes, and I’m all yours for you to command. I hate myself for allowing you to gain such power over me. You even found a way to make school pleasurable as I got to see you first in the morning and last thing at dismissal. My mind goes fuzzy, stomach a bit woozy, and knees all wobbly. I should be more of an oak tree. Tall and strong with my morals as my roots, but here you are with an axe to cut me down. I have to wear my best fake smile when I see you together. Lord knows how guilty I feel when I pray for my twisted miracle.

With one year left, all I can hope is you have a chance at perspective. We may be different colors of the rainbow, but when together, we are capable of creating a beautiful hue. Does she even know you the way I do? Like how you would rather spend your days playing video games than living your life like a high school teen drama? I may be just a drop in your ocean or the loose change in your wallet, but to me, you’re magnificent like Mount Everest or my favorite song on the radio. All I can ask is for you to give me a chance.



Terrorizing, buzzing creatures. My first encounter left me scared to walk past a garden, or put anything with a sweet aroma around me. Every time I stepped outside, I hoped to go unnoticed as the next target. Their buzzing taunts me like a playground bully.

You made me acknowledge your existence at the age of three. I remember you chasing me around the kitchen of grandma’s like it was some kind of game. Thankfully, she squished you with her flip flop, and took a stinger in the hell for me. Man, I hate bees.

I learned to keep my distance. I thought we had a mutual understanding, but you crossed the line when I was a month away from turning eleven. Maybe it was your unique way of saying hello, but it was unwelcomed to say the least. I remember holding an ice pack to my jaw that afternoon, muttering, “I hate bees.”

I couldn’t stay inside for the rest of my life. I would not allow you to have that malicious dictatorship over me. We came face to face once more at the age of fourteen. The mention of your name or infamous buzzing always caused me to freeze. My chest would tighten as if a balloon was expanding inside and just waiting to be popped. Everything changed, though, when I was made aware of your distress. “Bees have dropped in population by thirty percent,” I overheard in 2013. It was like my prayers were answered. My childhood nightmare to vanish? Sign me up! That was until I learned you had become infected and served a death sentence. I ached for you; felt the need to be the protector of bees. I can only hope there will be a cure for you as it seems I have found mine.

Despite the fact that I still keep my distance, I have learned how to appreciate you more. Hornets and wasps, however? That’s a different dilemma.


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