Cin and Jones: I'm scaredCin and Jones: I'm scared3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Jones pulled the Red into his home and slammed the door shut, Cinnamon stood there shaking he is covered in thick black mud there is blood on him in places where he was clawed at him and his clothe look like one sneeze and they would fall apart on him "How stupid are you, you got have gotten yourself killed." He yelled turning to face him, the maid in the house jumped at Jones raised voice
"I I'm sorry." Cinnamon said quietly as his eyes started to water
"Sorry you're sorry, if I didn't get there when I did that Shadow monster would have eaten you!" he yelled again "God I have no idea why I took you in."
"THEN WHY DID YOU SAVE ME, WHY BOTHER COMING AFTER ME, ALL YOU WANTED FROM DAY ONE SINCE I GOT HERE WAS TO GET RID OF ME!" The Red head yell, Jones froze and looked at the teen, he's never heard him raise his voice since he's been here, Cinnamon ran up the stairs and then there was a slam of a bed room door leaving the dark hair Reaper stun where he stood.
"You can be a
SadDo you know what it's likeSad3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to feel sad?
It hurts for awhile,
so deep your bones ache,
heavy like lead,
weighing you down.
But after awhile,
after so many fake smiles
and 'I'm fine's
and lies so well rehearsed
that you almost want to scream when no one notices,
even though that's what you wanted...
After all that,
you become numb.
The pain doesn't go away,
but it's more of a dull, throbbing ache now,
always enough to feel it
but never completely there.
It drags you down,
almost like drowning.
And you learn there's no fighting it,
no getting out,
no pulling yourself free.
even those little moments
of breaking the surface
of feeling alive and happy again
If only you'd told someone sooner,
let your walls down,
you're too far gone,
in too deep.
RelaxRelax4 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
John felt uncomfortable as he tugged at her hem off his uniform, trying to straighten the cloth. There were so many people around, and it made him uneasy. Today had started out as a ceremony, awarding metals to his team for feats that felt like they'd happened ages ago. The new metal hung from his left breast, forgotten. It was just one more in a long career. As he saw it, no amount of awards would help them win the war.
"You need to relax." John looked over as Fred moved to his side. He seemed much more at ease then John felt. "There's no fight here, just a party."
"I don't see how having a party like this is a good idea. We need to be in the field, fighting the Covenant." John's gaze traveled over the crowd. "I don't feel comfortable out of armor."
Fred let out a long breath. "Look around at these people. They are relaxed, enjoying themselves. You and I know how bad the war is going. Events like this allow these people to be led to believe things are not that bad. It's all about mora
Binge Eating DisorderShe curled up into a ball at the foot of her bed; her eyes clasped tightly shut as though protecting herself from the overwhelming sense of guilt spilling from her aching belly.Binge Eating Disorder7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
She had no control.
It scared her. It was as though whenever she walked into the kitchen a demon would take possession of her body. She couldnt pass by the fridge without it dragging her forward, pressing her to have just another bite; just another taste of this and a little nibble of that
Of course, it only happened when she was alone. If there was someone else there then the demon dared not show itself. The shame of such lack of control made her steer away from the kitchen while someone lurked there, but as soon as they left she would once again be drawn into the same pattern of feasting until her stomach hurt, just like it was now.
The worst part of it was that she had no idea how to end it; how could she possibly bring the horrid feasting episodes to a close? She couldnt even admit what sh
FriendFriend (n): a person attached to another by feelings of affectionFriend2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It sounds so simple
These feelings of affection
Like there’s not much to it
But isn't there?
They come into your life
You can’t help but trust them
And you never expect them to leave
But don’t they?
Friends for almost three years
But then out the door you walked
We saved each other’s lives
Best friends through thick and thin
We had a rocky beginning
But then it all smoothed over
One little thing happens
You don’t trust me enough to ask the truth
You go to him instead, he who hates me
These feelings of affection have been replaced with something else
We've thrown each other away
We've cut each other off
I miss telling you everything
I miss you telling me everything
Now you just tell each other everything
I've been left out of the equation
One plus one plus one minus one
It equals two if you do the math right
And I’m just that little one
Straightline People always say that they hate goodbyes; they say leaving someone behind is too sad. But I guess I'm different. I love it when people cry over me.Straightline5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She left without saying goodbye. I felt betrayed, in a way. Angry that she'd just leave like that, and angry that I'd just let her go. And hurt: my shoulder blades ached from the oh-so-sweet sensation of being stabbed in the back.
At the same time, I felt a fleeting swoop of joy. This is what I wanted: proof that I was living in the past. That I really didn't stand a chance. She'd trace her pretty, torn-up nails across my throat and we'd both agree: "I don't love you anymore." I'd drink her forgotten tears and she'd bite my Cheshire smile.
And my wild imaginings would disappear.
Maybe I'd fall asleep at
bedIt's a stabbing sightbed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Letting in the morning with a crack of the shades
And you forget you could page-turn horizons
Waft through free territory
Where acres are just beds
Made of fresh land
Wrinkles in the river
Tell remembered times
About old languages that could make you cry
About soft beds that carve away canyons
A speaking voice lifted from the earth
Begging you to remember
Athena PiratesAthena Pirates6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Humanity have moved from earth, the planet where they originated into space, after the pollution level reached a very critical level, the Federation decided to move everyone out of earth and into the colonies, they would start the cleaning of earth a big project, they estimated that the healing would take between 60 to 90 years, just to remove the abuse of centuries
The project nicknamed the healing planet, needed a lot of transportation, between many planets of men and materials, and whenever there is large amount of transportation piracy is prone to happen
Near the planet Uranus, a ship was carrying chemicals for water purification, when suddenly it was attacked by pirates, the pirates attached their ship to the huge container ship, but when they entered they were surprised that no one was there, and there was no shipment either!
Then out of the blue , two shadowy figure jump out from two crates near where the Pirates have entered the ship , and start firing from their gun , the pira
here's what i think.I was a better person when I wrote.here's what i think.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I was a better person when I wrote about boys who'd never return my feelings on silver platters, and ships long lost, or drowned, at sea. It sounds like a disaster, but I only write well with the ashes of a crumpled, discarded spirit mixed with the still-warm tears of a troubled soul.
Words kept me human, for they are what makes us human, and they distanced me from the animal I could become. All I do now is stalk around the concrete city, pace about my enclosure, and think about how my bitterness and I can never be released in the wilderness again.
Before the city stole my words away, I was living in the harbor locked up in a crumbling lighthouse, hoping that some northeasterly wind would blow him back to me. I still yearn, but the sea-stained melody gets lost in the traffic and it's easier to be whole without it haunting my every second.
But, the truth is, I'm burning for more.
I'm not whole without part of him missing, and if I'm filling up the
PatheticThe excruciating agony running through my veins was causing me to fall apart,Pathetic4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I rushed into the bathroom and shut to door
Biting my hoodie to muffle my desperate cry.
My boney hands were shaking as I turned the taps.
The clothes I was wearing seemed to weight the earth
And I struggled to pull them off.
As I carefully stepped into the shower
I turned the heat tap on full blast and tried to hold myself together.
Slowly I began to wash my hair
Waiting for the water to boil.
My skin was on fire but my body needed the external pain
It distracted my mind from in the internal suffering.
Eventually my legs failed and I sank to the floor.
The tears finally couldn't be held back anymore
And I screamed knowing no one could hear me.
My body was turning red but I didn't care,
Words that had been spoken to me were invading
"Cheater, cheater, you're a cheater.
You're pathetic, a weak piece of crap."
With trembling fingers I reached for my razor,
Pulling the blade out.
As gently as poss
UndeservedI don't deserve to be an artist.Undeserved3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know how to hold deep meaningful conversations with strangers.
I don't lament at night about a lover I have lost.
I don't watch the white smoke ebb into darkness.
I don't spend lonely nights admiring the true beauty of the world.
I don't sleep restlessly from the truth of suffering within this world.
I don't lie through my smiles or struggle to create them.
But I do think I am a writer.
I am completely, irreparably damaged.
I cry all night over old words and emotional baggage.
I weep over my lost innocence.
I spend nights wishing for skin against my own
I long for insomnia to inspire me.
I beg for worlds to collide so I can breathe.
So am I writer really?
Or just another misguided artist?
Space CampHe found himself standing in their daughter's room, staring at the dusty mobile of the planets, unsure of how he's come to be there. He looked at her bed, her desk, the unfinished homework. He considered opening the window, but the thought slipped away before he could act on it.Space Camp5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He wandered into the living room, looked out the window. The grass needed cutting. Did it? He wasn't sure. His wife would know, but she'd already left for work. Seems she left earlier every morning and came home later each night. Another thought occurred to him, something about each in their own way, but he couldn't hold it. Perhaps she was having an affair. He wondered at how he might feel about it if she was, decided he wouldn't feel anything.
He went into the kitchen, looked at the table, littered with unopened mail. He took a bottle from the cabinet and sat down at the table. Was he starting later than yesterday or earlier? He wasn't sure it mattered. He opened the bottle, but found he'd forgotten to get a
2.28.12today, i deposited the2.28.123 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
contents of my stomach
into an open, wanting
i, a liquid solid
am readily taken down
into its belly
where i decompose.
my throat is a raw
i use to
sing off key
i have a fever.
my temples are
and my skull
trapping the heat
it's like i have cysts
between my bones,
in my veins.
i lost my legs along the way
down into the abyss.
but i don't mind.
their muscles ached
i'd often thought of
still, i am left with
and they all creak,
and they won't shut up
and let me sleep
that must be why i never
can never be deep enough
to submerge me.
tonight, i'll sweat
myself out through
my pores and
always about the
same bones &
Colours I Never TastedIt is not worth escaping over.Colours I Never Tasted3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, sometimes the sun rises lopsided in the horizon and the
clink of glasses against teeth sets irate neurones off in your mind cavity
and fireflies extinguish on car windscreens in rain storms. Sometimes
August drops down into lake reflections and sometimes October never
sends a breeze to whisper into your ears. But they teach you that all of
that is okay, even when you're watching sunflowers writhe towards the
sun with grey blankets over humid-day hair.
There will always be a dawn. Stay awake for it.
You are not truly living until you have breathed.
And by that, I mean, take two feet and place them on the path
or the grass and inhale April. it doesn't matter if it is not April,
imagine the dandelions and the daffodils and the soft bleat of lambs
and that fresh scent rushing past your nose in long car journeys,
the one that tugs your legs onto the map and tells you 'this is home,
all forty thousand kilometres of it'.
The world is your oyster. Be the pear
Gotham High - proposalGotham High - proposal4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"We all go through incredible changes as teenagers: growth spurts, bad skin, a sudden insatiable need to uphold justice and avenge your murdered parents . Well, that is if you're Bruce Wayne.
As if being a freshman at Gotham High wasn't tough enough, Bruce's insomnia and technological fascinations are taking their toll. Instead of spending his time studying, he has begun to obsess over an emerging personality trait: Batman. But under the watchful eye of his guardian and steward, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce is forced to put his intelligence to good use: graduating high school. But given his classmates, can Bruce survive Gotham High?" Official blog entry made by Celeste Green and Jeffrey Thomas
A brief introduction
The start of their third year in high school. Bruce has finally returned to public school, due to his guardian's Alfred Pennyworth's insisting, after being home-schooled for eight years. He arrives to find it different from what he expected. The quarterback, Wayde, an
Taking the TimeTaking the TimeTaking the Time3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I am quite the little devil
When it comes to ticks and tocks
But one thing I can't accomplish
Is simply setting back the clock
One of two things happen, now
Either I sit by and wait to die
Or take life by the horns and
Steal the time that's sailing by.
So when you hear that hiss
Or scary bump in the night,
Remember me, the Chronic Thinker
And hold onto your Rolex tight.
Because I eat ticks for breakfast,
Put those tocks straight in my bank,
But in my new found everlasting
There was never time to think
About this death and my forever
And of the large universal reality
Of loved ones dying around me
And my never changing immortality
In a thousand years, I will still be
Where I will, I don't now know
But in my hand, my timepiece
And I will be wondering where to go
We are human.We are not perfect, we are not angelic.We are human.3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
We can be evil, but we are not demonic.
We are not Godly, though some might wish it.
We are only human, but no one will believe it.
I am myself, I am my own being.
I am not controlled, I am untamed and raging.
I am not normal, I am a freak; if you will.
I pride myself on this, I am not run of the mill.
I have some faults, as do we all.
But a few things I am a master of, as are we all.
We all have our fortés, our one special thing we're best at.
We are not Godly, but that doesn't mean we are any less than that.
We are all individuals, unique in our own way.
We are all good at one thing or another, we all have a perfect day.
We are not demonic or angelic, we are not Legion.
We are simply perfect in our imperfection; for we are human.