pizza and puppets

 They  say being a teenager is just a small piece of life's pizza. They also say that pizza is something we can all enjoy if we choose to.  But what if I told you I don't like pepperonis on my pizza. I don't even like pizza sauce nor do I like all those veggies or  Bacon either. Rather, I'd eat a big bowl of pasta filled with chicken and creamy sauce and I still think about why being a teenager is so hard. I'm not good enough but apparently he is. I'll never be fit for a 4.0, or a full ride scholarship to yale instead a full ride scholarship to jail, wait no I'm not that kind of person.  I always promised myself I'll stay out of trouble, but  you told me to follow in your footsteps, and that's all I'm doing. I always looked up to you, but I think now you're looking up to me more. I didn't know how hard life's challenges  wrapped around your arms and carried you in,  but instead of fighting back you let those arms manipulate you and treat you like a puppet. I don't want my life to reflect on a string and have my arms waving helplessly, I don't want to be a puppet, I don't want to be you.

I pump blood for you

Nicole, why are you so indecisive? Yeah he broke your heart, yeah some people have taken advantage of you, but I'm still here and living. Your brain is telling you one thing, but follow your heart for once...I am the reason you're still alive you know. I pump thousands of gallons of blood through your body each day just so you can live to see tomorrow, so if there ever comes a time where you question why you're still here, just remember I'm still beating. Forget about heartbreak, forget about your mistakes, and remember...I'm still pumping. I feel your pain, I do, but I can't help you. You sit back and tell me I only have one job...pumping is all I'm good for so stop hurting worse stupid heart! this break up could have been better if you weren't here, but remember... I'm the reason you're alive, and the least you could do was not blame me for your feelings. Nicole, if you remember one thing, just remember I'm here rooting for you when no one else is. Don't give up, we can work through everything together, and your life is a race I'm just trying to keep up with it. That's why I keep you alive longer and longer each day. that's why I pump the blood for you.

hands shaking, but my feet are still.

My hands are shaking, but my feet are still.

blood runs cold down my face from all the broken glass.

And I'm still, still taking breaths in, out, in, out. 

They shove me on a train, split me from my life, my family, and all I can think about is the blood running down my face. 

My world is spinning, but my head is spinning faster. things are chaos, and all I can hear is my dear family crying my name until a quenching silence only distances their echoes. 

Standing against the quaking wood walls, watching my breath freeze before me noticing that my hands are still shaking, but my feet aren't moving. They are still. They are still...and just for a split second..I can see what heaven looks like..still as my feet in this deep dark world..

RIP HOLOCAUST VICTIMS❤️

It's more than a pretty face..

This isn't much poetry, but more like a chapter in my story book that I will always remember....

I remember the first time I realized what being "pretty" really meant. I was always a blonde haired, white eyebrowed, freckled, sunburnt child. I was not a what the world would describe a cute kid as...Infact, I was the complete opposite and found myself outside more playing on hay bales and feeding horses than prancing around with my Barbies. 

It was just like any shopping day, mom went to get groceries, and I was looking for ring pops at the check stand...I remember spotting This magazine blocking my view with a Barbie girl..or at least she looked like her and all I could think about was Barbie is a real person. Flipping page by page, I was bombarded with fake after fake but beautiful...beautiful in a deceitful way but of course I was too young to understand. I remember it was then, the first time I noticed myself as not pretty, that I need makeup, I need nails, tan skin, long hair and eyelashes and straight teeth and skinny but not Boney..At age 7 only 7. Everyday I looked in the mirror, more and more disappointed than the last. I will never be accepted as attractive in this society. Growing up with pretty friends took a toll on my self esteem. I have crooked teeth, I'm not tall, I'm too fat, zit here, scar there, and worst of all, Guys came to me to get my friends numbers.

10 years later, I am that same girl, that same girl with a new story. My story is this...one you have all heard before that taught me a great lesson. Looks are just part of you, but your heart makes up all of you. A pretty face doesn't give you success, but hard work does. Being on the front page of a magazine doesn't buy you beauty, but a kind heart does. And in the end we will all be old and wrinkly, so don't worry Nicole, don't worry that you aren't on 17's magazine because remember, you're more important than you think you are.

Worn Out Soles

You walked every step, up every hill, and over every rock.
You got wet, you got torn, you got dirty.

You wore tired, no you tattooed tired all over you, so did I.
I replaced you. I replaced you because you were falling apart. I sat you on a shelf one, two, ten, fifty years.
You got dusty, I grew old.
I couldn't walk anymore. The feet you once covered were unstable and paralyzed.
My soul was weary. Your sole was broken.
I remember the day you laughed at me and said now we are the same. Now you are just like me, and we will never move again, but then I remember when we did walk every step,
When we climbed every hill, and over every rock.
And I remember when you were always looking up at me, never down because the ground was only there to catch us if we fell.

 

MOviNg On a ClouD

The music is deafening, The crowd is rumbling, and the bleachers are bouncing.
 My blood is pumping and my horse gets antsy.
Up next is Nicole Rindlisbacher, and all I can hear is my horse's heartbeat. I close my eyes and steadily lean forward.
I burst through the gates and push upward. The crowd is cheering, we get around first barrel.
 Kick, kick, kick, we are off to the 2cd.
All clear, I kiss at her towards third.
We spin around it and leave it all behind as we gallop tossing dirt behind us leaving no room for mistakes. It felt like slow motion as we ran, every muscle underneath reaching, breath by breath, I was moving on a cloud.
I passed the Finnish line, trying to catch my breath...her trying to slow down and all at once I heard my name announced as the new fastest time of the night. I couldn't believe it!!
My little red horse beat the impossible. No one thought she had it in her, no one thought she could beat all those tall, highly ranked champions, but she did. She proved them all wrong, and that's the night our journey began.
That night, my little red horse made history, and showed me that it's not about how big you are, but how big your heart is.