Fairy Tales.

They look at us and they say,
"That doesn't make sense.
"Fairy tales aren't real."

Moon Soul.

You're a moon soul.
So much of you is hidden
Especially on your darkest nights

The stars, they try to shine a light on you.
And it's true
They may allow themselves to shine brighter
But they're so far away
Not one can get close enough

The thing is,
You're afraid.
What happens when you reveal it all?
What happens when someone
Reads the stories
Hears the songs
Sees your soul?

But watch the moon.
Once upon a while
If you're waiting for it
The shadows fall away
The stars can't compare anymore

And what happens
With a light like that?
It lights the whole sky.

23.

Holding on tight

Don't give away the end

Lost.

The words I thought I wrote in ink

Are sand washing away in the tide.

-Kye- Rock and Roll. (cont.)

Five skateboards slide to a stop in front of the old water fountain.  This marks the exact middle of downtown square, and this is where they'll set up shop. A small grassy area outlined by pavement and a few rusty wooden benches.  In the center is a greenish bronze fountain that only flows water at random intervals.  It's aged, like everything else around here, like the humble buildings with peeled paint that line the old, cracked streets.
Blake and Warren take the nearest bench, and the other two boys settle on the ground, but Kye perches on the edge of the fountain, even though the water isn't going.  She unpacks her ukulele, and the others follow suit: CJ has his tambourine, Warren his harmonica, Blake his banjo, and Heath a second ukulele.  They all take a minute to tune up, and then Blake starts playing.  Before long everyone joins in.  They know the song; they've been working on it for their next show.
Kye opens her mouth and begins to sing.

There's a wild wind blowing
Down the corner of my street
Every night there the headlights are glowing

Their unique arrangement of instruments actually fits the song well.  She and Blake lead the melody with their strings, and CJ combines the sound of his tambourine with drumming on the bench.  Once the chorus comes around, their music swells into the air.  Blake sings out the words, and Kye lets her voice soar with his:

Oh love, don't let me go

Won't you take me where the streetlights glow?

I could hear it coming

I could hear the sirens sound

Now my feet won't touch the ground

It won't be long now.  Kye closes her eyes and imagines singing the words on a grand stage.  Soon, she tells herself, this will all be worth it.  Soon her feet won't touch the ground.

Soon, she will fly.

-Haylor- Rock and Roll.

Here she comes, all ablaze with red hair and those smoking gray eyes.  Heath smiles at the sight of her, but quickly hides it for fear she might recognize him.  He lowers his eyes and his skateboard to the ground.  It's time to roll.
They head down Emerald Lane, on towards downtown square.  The others laugh and mess with each other as they skate, but Heath watches in observant silence, tailing them.  CJ launches up onto a metal railing, trying to show off, but his wheel catches and he ends up on the ground.  Warren sees the rogue skateboard and seizes his opportunity: one foot on his board, one on CJ's, he glides for a few yards before returning to the wobbly safety of his own board.  Heath watches as Kye rolls her eyes at both of them.
"I'm fine, in case any of you were wondering," CJ calls out.
"Mostly worried about the tambourine," says Kye.
Heath grins.  She sure has learned to keep up.
He can't help but think how different things should be.  Today, a June day in the year they both turn seventeen, neither of them would be here.  They'd be soaking each other with garden hoses, climbing the giant backyard tree, sipping lemonade in the house they built on its branches.  Maybe they'd bike around looking for the ice cream truck.  In the year they both turn seventeen, neither Kye nor Heath should be anywhere close to growing up.
Yet here they are, adults too soon.  He wears a mask so she doesn't remember him; she wears hers so that no one can really see her.
Up ahead, she and Blake are leading the parade; she looks like she was born on that skateboard.  Flips, jumps and twists are as easy as walking to her.  Blake reaches over and snatches the beanie off her head, revealing her flaming hair.  It seems to set off sparks in the wind as she grabs for her hat.  Their laughter fills the air . . .  But hers is only a shadow of the true laugh he knows so well.
Everything here is wrong.  And somehow, he has to fix it.

-Kye- Rock and Roll.

When Kye hears her phone ring, she already knows who it is, and it brings a smile to her face.  It's a young summer morning, the sun warm and the sky blue.  Who else would be calling but Blake, and why else would he be calling but to suggest they seize the day?
"Hey, Blake," she says.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"You bet I am! You called the others yet?"
"No, you were the first on my list," he says, and Kye can practically hear him wink.
She rolls her eyes and grins.  "I'll start with Heath, then."
"Bring your gear," and he hangs up.
After making her way into the kitchen, Kye dials Heath with one hand while pouring cereal with the other.  The phone rings a few times, and by the time he picks up, Kye's mouth is full of food.  She does her best to talk between chews.
"Hello?" says a timid voice on the other line.
"Skateboarding time," she announces, "and bring your gear.  We'll meet at the usual spot."
A quick shower, and Kye is swiftly getting ready.  She tousles her short hair and pulls a beanie over it, and with a loose tank top and skinny jeans, she's good to go.  The last things she grabs are her ukulele and skateboard.  Now she has almost all the ingredients for a good time; all she needs are some people to enjoy it with.
Before leaving, she checks the other bedroom to see if Mom's still home.  As she expected, the room is empty: Mom has already left for work.  The first of her two jobs.
Kye pauses a moment, heaving an inward sigh.  This will help, she tells herself.  Soon our band will be making money, and I can finally help.
If only Mom would let her get an actual job, then she'd already be helping, but Mom stoutly refuses. She claims that Kye is too young to be out looking for work, and it's true it would be difficult, but that isn't the real reason she's against it.  For some reason, Mom thinks she can carry the weight of two people by herself, and she doesn't want anyone's help.
Have a good day, Mom, Kye whispers as she closes the front door.
Outside, Blake and CJ are already waiting.  Kye immediately shakes off her thoughts and grins at them.  "You fools ready?"
"Been ready for the last five minutes while you painted your face," CJ retorts with a smirk.  "Didn't you hear the doorbell?"
"Doorbell's out," Kye says, "but there is this thing called knocking."
"Don't listen to him," Blake interjects, rolling his eyes.  "We've only been here for a few seconds.  CJ needs to learn how to count."
Kye laughs.  "Whatever.  Are we gonna get going or what?"
"Let's go!" says Blake.
One by one, their skateboards smack onto the cement, and then they're cruising along down the street.  A bench awaits them at the corner of Emerald and Pine Hill, where Heath and Warren will meet them.  They live on the other side of the highway, so this bench is a good place for everyone to start.
When they arrive, the boys are already waiting, and Heath slips Kye a shy smile as he steps onto his board.  Here they are: the skating musicians.  Ready to take over the world.  Warren straps his tambourine bag over his shoulders, and then they're all set. 
Kye drinks in the air and smiles.  "You guys ready to rock and roll?"

Dark Day.

"I'm having a dark day," she said.  "Isn't darkness only supposed to come when it's nighttime?"
He sighed.  "If only," he replied.  "But sometimes darkness comes even while the sun is shining."

Ink.

Lost, somehow

Among the scattered remembrances

Memories, fleeting but captured

In timeless ink

Where are you?

You are here,

Bleeding into my room

Your eyes in silk and roses

Your laugh in notes and melodies

You are here

But you are lost

Somehow

In timeless, vanished

Ink.

Stars.

There have to be words to describe it.  Surely, from all the words existing in our language, I can find some that will explain what happened.  What I saw.  What I felt.
Yet I am speechless, at a loss for words.
Stars.
How to describe them?  And how to describe someone who shines brighter than all of them combined?
More in the blue book, but think about it.  Stars are not twinkling diamonds in the sky, they're roaring masses of brilliance and fire.  They float suspended in the night, and as you come closer, what was darkness turns suddenly into smoldering, blinding light.  They blaze on, no matter how deep the night grows around them, casting shadows back in fear.
And yet not one of them
is as radiant
as you.

Hallelujah.

If only time flew like a dove
Will God make it fly faster than I'm falling in love?

-Kye- Autumn.

The sun is setting, going to sleep amongst trees and hills that have blended with its colors.  Kye used to love autumn, but now the cool breeze seems only to bite at her face, and the leaves are so loud with their crackling.  As the sun sets, summer dies.  Precious moments vanish with every leaf that falls. They float all around her, and she wishes she could catch every one of them and return it to its branch.  But time cannot be reversed.

If she could, she'd go back to days long lost, when the summer was young and they didn't have a care in the world.  They'd ride their bikes across the neighborhood, go frog-catching in the creek, or lie out under the blanket sky and smile at passing clouds. But now all she can do is stand on the balcony of a painfully empty treehouse, and try to convince the sun not to set.

Because when summer's gone, she'll have to get on with her life, and that means accepting that he's gone, too.  Some fantasy in her head tells her that if the grass stays green, maybe there's hope that he'll return, and they'll spend the last days of summer together.  As it should be.

But the leaves keep on breaking free.  They fly away, probably to join him somewhere, in the land no one can find.

If only I could follow you.

~Peter~

If
you
remember me,
then I don't care if everyone else
forgets.

-Haruki Murakami

Calling.

I found a screaming bird that's buried in your chest
Below the neck
I'm calling out for you again