Like Words || Ramshackle

III

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Early evening. I try to compose a simple haiku before Vinnie's going to come back with whatever she will have.

Haiku. A Japanese piece of poetry.
5-7-5 syllable pattern, three lines, and peaceful.
I had a strong devotion writing them, It gave me a sensation of inciting warmth.

Inciting? since I usually used to go crazy when I wrote haikus. I was unbelievably good. Writing them was so easy and carefree that I grasped that power of skill that eventually made me insane. I used to laugh when I composed a perfect piece.

I wrote a lot back then, in elementary school—I was told the best.
I can't count the merciless times my fingers shivered once I didn't find like words.
When the perfect word's syllable is too long or too short for my poem, I die a little inside. The times I would flip my hair back and sweat over writing is a part of experience. Of becoming an author. But in the end, it was always so worth it. I laughed every time.

Right now, I stare at my haiku with disbelief clouding my eyes. "...What is this."

My old writing habits were creeping back. I flip my hair back.

I have looked around,
Sonnets of (think of words, stone)
A grasp of hope flies ...?

Ugh, writing haikus has gotten more difficult. I used to be so proficient at this. What happened, Stone. I guess... lack of inspiration. Angry-faced doodles were scribbled at the mere corners of the now wrinkled paper.

Gosh, my poem is so messy. It doesn't make sense. At all.

I smack my forehead with my bare hand. I drop my pen. And, i sigh. Momentarily, I hear a loud bang compiled with laughter. Yeah, that's absolutely Vinnie. I hid my shitty poem and went to see what she's got.

Sticks.

I mean, sticks are an excellent fire source. I don't know why this feels dumb. Or maybe it's just the effects that awful haiku gave me. Skipp cheered and went to set the fire.
When we were all gathered, I noticed him about to throw something on the raging flames. My instinct tells me it seemed crucial, so I snatched the material off Skipp. I didn't mean to snatch it that harsh and sudden.

I see a magazine. But this magazine... feels so familiar.
The colour, the texture, the format, the contents.

"Uhh, Stoooooone?"

"Sorry, Skipp. I felt like... I had to take it."

"Dude, are you feeling that gray cardboard box or something." Vinnie yawns, her raspy voice filled with sarcasm. "Pfft, you look like a nerd tha-"

"Shut up. At least I am not rabid. I... I need to read this." Without further prompts, I got up and sat to where I composed my poem earlier. Now let's replace my agony to... victory, I guess...

...

Ah, yes. This haiku is way, way more better to look at. I kept on reciting it. I began to silently laugh.

I hear sounds of hope.
Like sonnets and odes collide.
A grasp of new art.

creaaaaaaaak.

"...was that a haiku ?" a warm voice emerged. This caused me to panic slightly.

"Fuck—Skipp! You rascal, you scared me." I was not expecting myself to recite my poem out loud. That loud for Skipp to hear. "You... you shhhhh okay?"

The boy inches closer towards me, then sat down. "Did you write that, Stone? That was beautiful!" Then he looks away. "Or maybe your Irish accent is what makes it sound beautiful... actually, your voice beautified your poem even more!"

Now, this got me flustered. I know I am not supposed to, but how am I supposed to react to this? "Mhm, yeah, sure. Thanks."

The atmosphere was getting cozier as seconds passed by. "Where's the magazine you kept? And why were you... laughing."

"Right drawer." Explanation is greatly needed. So, I took a breath, then confessed. "I laugh when I write a poem that turned out beautiful. The magazine, I found out I had read it before. Way back before. That magazine copy was responsible for my y'know... passio-"

"You have a passion for writing!?"

"Skipp!" Why does he have to be so loud. I want to yell. "Watch your tone, you're the only person that knows about this. So you better learn to keep secrets."

"Deal!" He snatched my hand and shook it violently. "Tell me more about it!"

Hm, I've never talked about this with anyone before.

...

-end of chapter-
P.S. I MADE THE HAIKUS