Sunday, February 11, 2018

Dirty Road

Dirty Road

By Shaire Blythe
January 26, 2018

I think I lost me
Trying to find me
Not thinking bout losing
I just wanna get stupid

Forget my reputation
Hold my ambitions
Need your entertainment
Show me what I've been missing

For tonight there'll be no costs
Drink tonight, I'll pray tomorrow
For my broken soul
My way back home
For tonight it's a dirty road

I think I lost me
In your eyes
Perfect timing
I was losing my mind

How long ago
I took some stones 
I took them well
See I've abandoned hope 
I let go
So whatchu want
I'm your jezebel

Light to darkness
I was learning
Living is hopeless
To you, I bow 

For tonight there'll be no costs
Drink tonight, I'll pray tomorrow
For my broken soul
My way back home
For tonight it's a dirty road

Know that I should know better
Know the longer that we're together
Will drown myself in fire
For feeding my mind's desire
I'll have no one else to blame
But I could do it anyway

For tonight there'll be no costs
Drink tonight, I'll pray tomorrow
For my broken soul
My way back home
For tonight it's a dirty road

Thursday, January 18, 2018



By Shaire Blythe
Thursday, October 19, 2017

Give me a fix
Take it easy on me right now

 A beautiful bliss
Soon as the sun goes down

 Heat is rising
Time is getting close
We are young
So I can't say no

 Lets no be found
Shut our pride down

 And surrender
For life
See the thunder in our eyes
There's nothing wrong with
Knowing we're not quite right
So we surrender for life

 Vapors got a hold
Don't desert me right now

 I just need you close
I swear that I won't choke out

Bring me higher
I just can't sit still
Won't deny ya
Cause this is real

 Head in the clouds
I can see your crown

Come share the love of what
We know together
Choice of our drug
Make it last forever
Be the party
And go till they say stop

 Enhance what's our vision
Explore the parts we've been missing
And give it all we got

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Slow Down

Slow Down

By Shaire Blythe
October 25, 2017

You say you wanna take me down
Well I ain't giving in right now

Too much shit on my mind
Show yourself out
Let me be to myself

Yes, I gave you one good reason to stay
What does it mean if it's all you will claim?

Not necessary, no
You're a bit unnecessary now
In a hurry
Need to slow it down

Cause you're not necessary
Got another at the front door
Wanna say what is necessary
I deserve much more than what you give

You just take, take and deplete
And it's not necessary
So unnecessary

Friday, January 5, 2018



By Shaire Blythe
January 9, 2016

Faded, I knew this too
If we could've made it, where would we be?

Painted beautiful pictures
I sat and watched you
You invited me in
Don't take it wrong when I say I didn't want to

Cause that was the beginning
You opened me up
Made me feel human
You showed me a love

Didn't feel the air shifting until we reached the end
I grasped on to all the words spoken
Can you remember them, cause I do
Can't make much sense of how they got tossed
But I'll share them with you, and see my way out

Focused, through and through
And I was hoping you would be the same too, just a dream

Perfect melodies written
Did you truly listen to me?
I welcomed you in
Don't take it wrong when I say I didn't want to

Cause that was the beginning
New, wild and free
Who knew someone could do this to me

No change, okay
We were both facing the same way, but our words couldn't seem to reach each other

Like we were on two different universes
I stayed and tried to fix things
But what's the point in fixing what was meant to be broken
But I was hoping...

Take it back to beginning
The Sparks were never ending

Monday, January 1, 2018

Angels Fall

I knew I wanted to bring in the new year--which, technically it is a new year, but I like to just refer to it as a continuation of living, growing and learning--some way special, and writing was ultimately decided on when I got some alone time. I have been writing nearly every day, working on THE DIRTY, which will no doubt--and with the Lord's will--be finished this year (preferably by summer) and start the process of finding an editor, probably (maybe) seek a representative, and on to publishing and so, so on. With that being said, I was just going to post a little snippet of some of what I have been tweaking, but then thought of this short piece I had started over a year ago, and had abandoned due to a certain reason.

For one, if you have been following my blog, I have been taking my faith more serious than beforehand. I read the Bible and began approaching things differently and whatnot. I like to believe I took a strong message from the stories read. In all honesty, it was me growing closer to God that sparked this piece in the first place. I pondered upon my weaknesses, I thought of things I was encountering over and over with other people. However, also taking my faith more seriously also prompted me to stop writing this piece.

It is a struggle to hold your faith and have to be a part of this world on the daily. Every one has their weaknesses. Every one deals with them differently. I have adopted to being pretty blunt--see no certain boundaries that society might have drawn up on their own, for a perfect nonexistent world. Part of how I am stems from being exposed to my own, personal form of hell pretty young, and not caring anymore about extra bull. And the other part has stemmed from outside factors that simply led to the same conclusion: I have lost the ounce to care to censor myself anymore.  So having that sort of mindset as part of your DNA, along with becoming closer to God has had its clashes.

This piece comes from my more "out there" side. It is meant to be funny as well. If you are easily offended, don't read. This is your warning. (I held back  just a bit, though, cause I did not feel this piece had to go graphic to get across what I wanted). But I like to find a balance between who I am, and who God knows I truly am, and just keep my writings as bare and honest as I want them to be, and as truthful as I know being of faith can be for some believers. It is not always easy or effortless. It can be a struggle some days, and I do not want to pretend as if that is not the case. That was one thing that always pulled me from religion: that perfect image some create. But if history has taught us anything, we should know better.

So I decided to finish this. Enjoy.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016-Monday, January 1, 2018

Angels Fall
By Shaire Blythe

Thighs. Thick thighs. Rounded like the greatest gift man could’ve asked for. In between, the creases of the jeans just melted, as if the manufactured denim made up their skin.

 Breasts. Breasts as catastrophic as the nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But a good catastrophic, of course. The breasts could do damage, damn it. I’m talking in your face, plushy-goodness damage. Like not enough hands to hold them damage.

 Ass. Asses galore. Wiggly. Fat. Round. Everything, round.

 “Shit,” I said, my teeth scraping together. Feeling the tightness near my crotch, the indistinct chatter of others began to seep through my one-tracked psyche. I was brought back to the realization that I was sitting on the outside of the university’s main cafeteria.

 My phone buzzed beside me on the curved booth. I didn’t bother to look at the screen. I sulked into the booth, closing my eyes. Cats. Dead cats. I pictured them piled on top of one another, multiplying, their pink little tongues hanging out of their mouths. Anything to get my shit down.

 “Yo, Rowen, dude!”

 I quickly leaned forward, opening my eyes. The tightness of my crotch became more constricted. “Tanner,” I said, gritting my teeth into a half-smile. I crossed my arms near the caps of my knees.

 “I’ve been trying to reach you, man. Texted you like fifty-million times,” Tanner said, coming to a stop in front of me. He was like a skyscraper, skinny and erect. He looked just as glassy as most, appearing fragile and see-through. Anyone who knew him was aware that he wasn’t the hold-hands-and-share-our-feelings sort of guy, no matter how much he looked like it. He was the yell-into-the-camera-at-football-games, a beer or two in his hands, thrashing his head back and forth to Russ or Thirty Seconds To Mars—it depended on the day—type of guy.

 “My bad, man,” I said.

 “What are you doing?”


 “Fuck it. You’re not doing anything now,” Tanner cut me off. He fanned his hand up from his side.
“Come to the fields with me. Me and some of the guys were going to play some rounds.”

 I nearly reached up to run my hand across my face, but stopped myself, remembering I was sort of stuck in a predicament. “I wish I could, you know, but I was about to head back to my place. I’ve got a lot of shit to work on.”

 Tanner’s eyes scanned the booth, from one side to the other, an eyebrow raised. “Doesn’t look like you were leaving to me.” A dry, nervous laugh escaped me. He had me there. "You know what, bro?" he said. "It's cool. I have other important shit to some times do too." He double winked. "Later." As fast as Tanner had came, he was blending into the crowd. Gone.


Asses clogged my mind again. Really, really huge ones. Like silicone injected ones. They were up close and personal. One after the other, after the other on my Dell laptop. And I was busting--legit busting--one hand on my shaft, and the other rapidly minimizing the volume of female moans that had steadily climbed throughout the streamed compilation.

 I took a in a breath, letting it out only once my lungs began to strain for expansion. I stared down at the mess I had made. The bottom of my stomach seemed to toss itself around like a dysfunctional merry-go-round, and my heart beat with less zeal than before I had switched my laptop on to search 'Big Ass Compilation'.

 "Fuck," I said. I slammed the laptop shut, scooting out from my desk.

 In my bathroom, I cleaned myself up, dread weighing me down the entire time. I couldn't stop thinking that I had done it again. I wasn't strong enough. I would never be strong enough.

 Upon returning to my bedroom, I got down to my knees, looking up at the cross above my bed, that I had purposefully dashed past since arriving at my college suite. Just one look at the wooden figurine my mom had positioned on my wall three months ago, and I would have never went through with my greatest temptation.

 "Dear God," I began, hands clasped together. "Please forgive me for falling for my ultimate weakness. I have failed you, and for that, I'm truly, sincerely and deeply sorry. We both know I made it two weeks without giving in. For two weeks, I had been strong. I was really, really trying to do better. You know this. But, I mean... It's better than the real thing... Right? I could be having premarital sex with about ten different girls each week, but you don't see me doing that." I faintly chuckled under my breath, thinking of  how worse I really could be.

 "I mean," I continued, "don't get me wrong. We both know I've done my dirt, but I've been getting better, slowly but surely. Wouldn't you agree?" I cleared my throat, clearly getting off track and antsy to close the prayer. "Anyway, again, forgive me. Amen."

 I got back to my feet. The wooly carpet left red indentations in my bare knees. As diseased-looking as the marks appeared, I felt brand new. The sun shined just a bit brighter through my blinds, and I could hear the birds tweeting outside, somewhere nearby. I had done just what I needed to do.

 But as prompt as my new world had begun, it suddenly went stale with the sounds of a female moan through Lorenzo's, my roommate, neighboring wall. Banging started, shaking the cross on my wall to the very same rhythm of his movements.

 "You've got to be fucking kidding."

Friday, December 29, 2017

Light Back

Light Back

By Shaire Blythe
January 20, 2016

Lights dim, candles burn out
That's just how it goes
But if something's missing you'll find a way to get the light back around

And that's just how it goes
When you really need, or when you really want something you might not need
All the signs there
But we blind ourselves to see
One day it'll no longer be a dream

Saturday, December 23, 2017

I Tried

I Tried

By Shaire Blythe
December 19, 2017

All encompassing
You don't want me to be me

I might've said some things
Not thinking at all

It takes more for me to feel bothered
For that I'm sorry
Are you sorry?

Your emotions
I can't forget
Once open, then I'm drowned in your regrets
Are they you,
Or the you you're used to?

Guess I'll be gone
You will survive
And I
Don't want to move on
But I tried

So reality
I think I cope better in my sleep

In reality,
You sugarcoat much more than what it seems

Just get to the point
Throw your knives
There's no such thing as "the one"
We decide when we want to decide

I never walked away
My heart beats till shamed
Then, you, I erase
There'll be no recall
Don't believe such a thing

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Without An Eraser (Addition #6)

*Heavy editing still needed for this story. (Follows the drama of high school students). This is part of a second draft, that hasn't been touched in four years. Yet, I have an entire outline for the first book complete. Gotta love being a writer.

Without An Eraser

By Shaire Blythe


 Family dinner at Gavin’s house was like a taking a trip to an amusement park. There were all sorts of rides with their own themes, their own pace. Some made you scream, others, you laughed, and some were just plain silly.

 Gavin would be counted as not a ride, but a sectioned booth that made you pay to play, but the booth wasn’t in operation for the time being, or at least no one was trying to play, and it was on the verge of closing down.

 He was the lone booth at the dinner table. The rest of the four were rides--wild, twisting rides. He felt so out of place. His family was crazy. He was not.

 It was so loud that thinking was impossible. If he talked in his head, he couldn’t hear his own voice. Food literally flew across the table, hitting the floor, hitting people, and was caught on tongues. This was why he rarely brought friends home with him. His family would embarrass the crap out of him to the point that he would run and hide in his closet, which had been done.

 “No! No!” Spencer bellowed across the table, laughing in delight at the story E’mani had told about her school day. It had something to do with a boy flirting with her or some shit that eight year olds did now days.

 “Mommy, I want that one,” Abigail whined, hopping in her chair like the big baby she was. She pointed at a certain mini cupcake in the middle of the round table.

 It was barely thirty minutes after the food had been set out that the homemade sweets were broken out as well, grabbing the attention of Gavin’s little sisters. They both didn’t even try to finish off the Chinese food before digging in.

 Any normal family wouldn’t egg on the kids to eat sweets until they ate all their food. This family wasn’t normal…

 “Hold your horses, I’m getting it,” his mom protested, stretching out to get the cupcake.

 “His name is Keney.”

 Gavin tuned back into E’mani’s conversation with Spencer.

 “Keney who?” Spencer questioned with suspicion.

 Gavin could imagine the sirens going off in his step-dad’s oversized head. He was regularly calm on the outside, but he was sure to be running rampant on the inside.

 He loved his little girls to death, even though he couldn’t biologically claim any of them. His worst fear probably was the thought of them growing up on him. That was something Gavin couldn’t go deep into thought about himself yet.

 E’mani shrugged. “I don’t know, daddy. I don’t pay that close attention. But he’s too adorable,” she squealed, outstretching her arms and reeling them back to her heart.

 “Adorable booty,” it seemed like Abigail said with laughter. She was four years old. Her speech wasn’t all there yet.

 “Gavin’s got a girlfriend, too,” E’mani went on to gush, making a heart with her fingers.  She was such a dramatic little thing already, inheriting it from their mom. That made her quite a pester to Gavin, and even more so now with her opening her big mouth and pulling him into conversation.

 “Who?” His mom beamed ear to ear in interest. Her son was finally talking to the opposite sex. It was the day that she had been waiting for since he had hit puberty.

 What she didn’t understand about Gavin was that him hitting puberty had made him more awkward and hesitant to speak to girls. He was tall, lanky and his voice was in the moment of alternating when it wished. He woke up with pimples on random days, battled mild acne on his chest, and had a long head. What girl wanted that?

 “No, I don’t,” he directed at E’mani with no intentions of getting this topic started. She stuck her red-apple tongue at him. He brushed it off, picking up his fork to try and clear his plate. He had taken more than he could stomach.

 “Why don’t you?” Spencer jumped in.

 “Yeah, why dontcha?” Abigail repeated cutely. But this time, Gavin didn’t take it as cute. He couldn’t stand it when people jumped down his throat like this.

 “He does. Her name is Mary,” E’mani persisted.

 Gavin’s eyes bulged out of his eye sockets. How had she heard that?

 “Like Bloody Mary,” his mom cracked.

 “No, mom. No,” Gavin declared.

 “Not Mary?” Spencer questioned, before taking a sip of his root beer. He didn’t drink in front of the kids.

 “Gavin’s got a girlfriend! Gavin’s got a girlfriend!” Abigail broke out into singing.

 “No, I do not.”

 “You don’t have to hide if from us,” his mom assured, folding her arms in front of her on the table.

 “There’s nothing to hide. I don’t have one.”

 “He’s blushing!” E’mani cooed, pinching at his cheeks. He jerked his head away from her reach.

 “Too cute!” his mom praised.

 “I heard him talking to Joel about her,” E’mani resumed. She just never shut up!

 Gavin briskly scooted back from the table and got up. “I’m done here,” he pronounced, scanning his family like they were lunatics.

 He felt like an alien in a room full of weirder beings. How in the hell was that so?


 The distinct clicking of glasses hitting the marble dining room table and silverware coming in contact with the posh dishes occupied the reserved space. Chit-chat was so absent that one could literally hear a pin drop if a pin was to literally drop. There were long intervals before conversation flowed and it only came from Eun Jung, a Korean server of Chef Chin Ho, that had both been purchased to personally service GiGi and her family tonight. 

 Eun Jung appeared close to GiGi’s age and had the grace of an eighty year old as she made sure each and every Yukian around the table had enough barley tea, if they had a dish in the way that they would like to be removed, if they wanted some more of the main course, or whatever else.

 Dinner had kicked off with a petty appetizer and then built up to the spicy jayook bokum, which was basically marinated pork loins stir-fried with red chili pepper paste and kimchi. It was one of GiGi’s favorites, but she couldn’t really get into it like she usually did.

 Her lack of sensation had nothing to do with the way Chef Chin Ho had cooked it, but how she was simply feeling, which was below par.

 She had this amazing plan going to embarrass the crap out of Eva, she had all the money in the world, she was doing fine in school--there was no need for her to feel so under the weather like she was.

 Perhaps the damper pertained to Mr. Golovina’s play she was starring in at the end of the month. She could’ve been a little nervous about it and how it was going to go.

 Surprisingly, Mr. Golovina hadn’t decreased her role and made her keep the same character after her crazy rampage. To GiGi, that was ludicrous and torture.

 “We should be getting the Halloween lights and decorations up, shouldn’t we?” GiGi’s daddy spoke his first words since joining the family, after all the rest had already begun dinner. He was always the one that sat down at the table last. He could never seem to pry himself away from business.

 Naomi snorted and laughed under her breath from beside GiGi. “What’s the use?” She questioned, her occupied fork in mid-air. “I’m not going to be here. I‘ll be hanging out with Kwan. I bet GiGi won’t be here either. Mom typically goes to women affairs during the holidays and you, dad, will probably be doing something business related,” she pointed out. “Putting up all that stuff would be a waste of time.”

 “Waste of time or not, I like the idea and look of it,” GiGi’s mom spoke up defiantly, yet exquisitely. She could be compared to some poised statue of a modern-day, Japanese Cleopatra. She held herself with such class and gentleness. GiGi didn’t really get her sharp traits.


 The doorbell chimed a beautiful melody, cutting Naomi short. Eun Jung was on it, rushing past the archway and to the front door in partial view of GiGi. The door was opened by Eun Jung. GiGi tilted her head, attempting to see around the slab of wall.

 “Well, hello,” Eun Jung’s cheery voice warmly chirped. “C’mon in, Mr. Yukian.”

 With that title mentioned, GiGi should’ve known who the visitor was, but it didn’t quite click until she actually saw Lee in plain sight, entering the dining room. He wasn’t suppose to be here.

 “Family!” He exclaimed, opening his arms wide. He had dark shades on top of his head and multiple bags hanging from each arm. More bags and then suitcases quickly followed as a guy came in behind him carrying and rolling them.

 “Where would you like these, sir?” The guy asked. His eyes were carefully wondering the room and everything surrounding him. It was as if he had never seen such a magnificent home, let alone had ever walked into one.

 “Just leave them here. Thank you,” Lee said, digging deep into his jeans pocket. GiGi couldn’t get over the fact that they were ripped and didn’t look like they were purposefully made that way. He was an entire different breed of a Yukian.

 Lee must’ve gave the guy over a hundred bucks. The cash was all waddled up, but it was a nice size ball of twenties. The guy thanked Lee and was ushered out by Eun Jung.

 Immediately, Lee dropped his bags where he stood and walked right over to daddy. They hugged each other like a proud father and happy son were suppose to, and then Lee made his rounds around the table with greetings and hugs.

 In GiGi’s case, she got a light tap on the shoulder and that was it. She was okay with that for now. She was still a little confused as to why he was here with so many damn bags.

 “What are you doing here?” Naomi was the one to ask the question GiGi had been thinking from the start.

 Lee sat down on the opposite side of the table and sighed as he nonchalantly leaned back in the wooden chair. Eun Jung made an appearance again, bringing him a plate and setting a glass of the tea in front of him.

 “Thank you,” he told her.

 She simply bowed and exited the dining room. GiGi liked the girl. She knew exactly what to do and when exactly to do it. They needed to have her around permanently.

 “So, dad,” Lee addressed after taking a sip from his glass, “would you like to tell them the news or me?”

 All heads turned to daddy. What did he know that none of the rest of them knew? GiGi didn’t like this game. How could she have been left out of the loop?

 GiGi’s dad shrugged and fanned his hands. “You do the honor, son.”

 Lee adjusted himself in the chair and broke out into a smile. “I’m moving back in,” he disclosed. “I, uh, broke up with Sophia a couple of weeks ago, but was still living with her only because I had a couple of more things to settle at Richmond. However, I accomplished what I needed to, and I graduated early. I’m back here to help dad with Jackz Shoes. We’re going to hit the ground running, dad,” he confidently told him.

 “You are not serious…” GiGi uttered, but it was blocked out by Naomi’s big mouth shouting,

 “Oh, my God! This is so cool. The Yukians reunited.”

 “Honey, I’m so proud of you!” Mom gushed, her nearly about to start crying in her chair. GiGi couldn’t believe this shit.

Fairytale Story

Fairytale Story

By Shaire Blythe
January 15, 2016

Walls built up high, I found another self of me
One that lived more recklessly, but still held out hope

Gave any brave soul a try
But knew when the right one was still at bay
And never censored what I had to say

Till you came along
I never believed in fairytales
But you told me to let go, go with what I felt
It wasn't an easy road
But I did let go

Of all the disappointments
The hurt and pain
They were gradually washed away
I really thought I had found my place
But something changed

Blinded sided when effort was no longer there
Distant and cold, you must've looked the other way

I know I'm not perfect, didn't expect the same from you
I never asked for much, but I guess it was too much for you
And that's okay
Turning the page

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Universal Shift

Universal Shift

By Shaire Blythe
December 3, 2017

There's something special about how another human can have the capability of shifting the very atmosphere that surrounds you.
Those strands of dread that may cross your path at any crack in the road recede into themselves.
A hint of light can be seen, dazzling the ground you walk upon.
Those moments of terror get a little closer to home,  knowing that your heart would bleed out and fail you if that one had been a victim of a tragic fate.
So you hold them closer.
Let them know you love them at unelected intervals of time intervals of time, cause you never know when it'll be their last second.
Even in the midst of the chaos, you have a glimmer of a candle light around the world
All because that one seeing something irreplaceable in you, among a sea of billions resonates in your mind.
Not unnoticed.
Never unnoticed.
Maybe that one will see the way you let them go to feed their separate identity--a tiny piece of you crumbling away, yet loving the air between a healthy love.
The hours to explore yourself, find another type of peace of mind you can conquer on your own.
Not sad.
Never sad.
But once that back door opens and those first steps are heard on the hardwood floor,
Your heart gradually thumps against your chest,
The pit of your stomach begins to tango
And that uncontrollable smile rises at the sight of that one.