The grass felt hard on my bare feet; it had not rained in weeks, and the drought had caused the grass to become somewhat coarse and yellow. I picked up the bottom of my ruffled yellow dress, worried that it would trip me as I ran. The balloons tied to my wrist were blowing madly in the wind, beating up against each other.
I felt so so free. Free. I dont even know the exact definition of the word. But, who does? Isnt it different for every individual? At that point, all I knew was that he was gone. I was out of that mess.
I had a favorite place a special place. It was where I always went when I needed to be alone when I needed to escape him. It was somewhat close to the wharf, but still a good distance away. The grass was tall and weedy, some of it up to my thighs. It was difficult to run in, but I loved it anyway. It made me feel secluded, isolated. There was a bit of a hill that I would scamper to the top of, and then I c
A Reason to LiveIf only she had the guts to actually do it, to just leap among the cold waves and sink in death among the fish. She breathed in the smell and taste of saltwater, and water sprays hit her face, neck, and chest. She shivered slightly in the breeze from the waves, but she wasn’t really bothered by the chill. What weighed on her mind was something much deeper than the weather.A Reason to Live10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
A pang of apprehension penetrated her heart as she envisioned her body being plunged into the water and weighted down by the strong waves. She thought about what it would be like to gulp in mouthful after mouthful of water, choking and never feeling any relief, but she didn’t think the pain could be any worse than what she was already dealing with.
“Aimée!” The young woman moved her arms in circular motions as she tried to keep her balance. Her mother’s call startled her, and for a brief moment she thought God might be
SuicideShe was artsy.Suicide4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
She was odd.
She was a victim of the mob.
No one liked her.
No one cared.
They'd make fun or sit and stare.
She didn't cry.
She didn't fight.
She just let them take her rights.
A month went on,
And then one more.
All of their ridicules, alone she bore.
It all built up,
Until one night.
The "bulb" went off- she saw false light.
She chose her fate,
Then and there.
No one would miss her, since no one cared.
Schizophreniavoices, voicesSchizophrenia4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
they're in my head
they haunt me down
i scream and yell
but they don't go away
i plead and beg
night and day
flooding my ears
i go hysterical
i begin shedding tears
grunting in frustration
anger rushes through my veins
i want to be in control
but i cant seem to grab the reigns
everywhere i go
fear sets in
my panic shows
what is this curse
it besets me forever
i want to be normal
but i wont, no never
Do you know the taste of the universe?One day, when you’re five years old and made out of fractured sunlight and mirror shards, you sit down on the bench of the MAX train. You’re dressed in your winter coat and boots that are too big and one of your parents has pulled your hat too close over your ears.Do you know the taste of the universe?9 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You’re sitting next to your mother, and on the other side is a man that smells like loneliness, something that you’ll later know as cigarettes and alcohol and homelessness. He’s crying quietly into the top of his jacket and you’re scared to look because you’ve never seen an adult cry.
The train ride goes on for five minutes, which is a long time to you, and eventually you sneak a look at the crying man who smells like Portland and loneliness, and he sees you. He leans down until you can see the red lines in his eyes and he whispers to you.
“Do you know the taste of the universe?”
And you look up at him with your little-girl eyes and shake your head because you can’t
Now, Forever, and AlwaysHold my face in your hands,Now, Forever, and Always2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
those big, strong hands.
Me feel so safe and secure,
like nothing can break me again.
Now hold my heart,
which beats faster and faster as you caress my skin.
Forever soothes my soul,
my broken soul
And now I am sure of one thing,
that I will love you
Six Months to LiveSo I'm sitting in this cafe, at one of those little round tables. It's snowing outside, but I'm warm with my snugly, knitted scarf that's wrapped around my neck. I'm sipping my peppermint mocha latte when a tall man wearing a black suit comes up to my table. He pulls up a chair, obviously inviting himself to join me. "Hello," he says, "I am here on a mission from God." I sit expressionless, wondering what kind of crack-head like him can afford a nice suit. I wonder if he killed a man to steal it. "As of today, you have exactly six months to live. Spend your time wisely." Before I can question the man, he disappears into thin air.Six Months to Live4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So I looked around; had he been a figment of my imagination? No one else seemed to be startled by the man's sudden "poof." Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe it was I who was the crack-head.
Or maybe not.
I gathered my magazines that I had been reading, put a to-go lid on my latte, and paid a taxi to take me home. When I walked
Diary of a CutterMy mind is confused, drained to the max.Diary of a Cutter2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Life is hell and I can't relax.
Some days I cry, some days I scream.
I no longer remember how to dream.
My skies are dark, far from light blue.
The rainclouds are constant, just like my doom.
No one understands, no one cares.
This can't be cured with a hug or teddy bears.
So I pick you up, my trusted friend.
I think it's time to bond, once again.
Make your brand, harmonize with my skin.
No one can free me from this sin.
And Then He LeftThe chaise lounge was upholstered with a chenille African-looking fabric. There were different shades of brown in it along with some olive green; there were random elephants on the print. When I was younger I would lay on that sofa for long periods of time, naming each of the elephants. I especially loved doing that on rainy days, because I loved watching and listening to the rain outside the window that was next to the sofa. But now I was seventeen, and far too old to be naming elephants on our chaise lounge.And Then He Left3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a rainy day and I had been watching them argue through the window. It wasn't much of a surprise these days; they argued over everything, from what we should eat for dinner to where we should vacation. The littlest things seemed to set them off. Sometimes it seemed like a game they played, seeing who could upset the other first.
I looked out the window from the elephant lounge; they were standing in the pouring rain, soaking wet of course, arguing over God knows what
I Do Not Give UpYou asked.I Do Not Give Up4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
You said, "Go run a mile."
So I ran two.
If you expect perfection,
you will always lose.
You will lose at the game of life.
I can not give perfection,
so I do not bother to offer it.
I do go the extra mile.
Life is not about meeting expectations,
but rather aiming higher than mediocre.
Perfection is not meeting those higher-than-average expectations.
Perfection is an internal thing.
Perfection is aiming high just because you know you can.</i>
Perfection is trying, even though it is impossible to reach the goal.
You say, "Go run a mile."
I will go run two.
JoyceHaving kicked the man in the balls and relieved him of his belongings, Joyce wasn't quite sure what to do next. She could run, but he might come after her the next minute. If she tied him up here, in the middle of nowhere, he might be eaten by wolves; or starve to death. Besides, she didn't have any rope. She could kill him... perhaps. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.Joyce10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
'What am I to do with you?' she sighed.
'Well,' he groaned while giving her a look that sent shivers down her spine, 'You can run, but that won't help you, cause I will find you! So you just wait another few minutes until I get back up again - and I mean úp- and then, I'll do you like there's no tomorrow! Which, by the way, for you there won't be!'
Well, that sure narrows down my options, she figured as she bent over and closed her trembling fingers around a good, fist-sized rock...
It wasn't much later when the road took her out of the forest and into the farmland. When she spotted the little v
we won't bury you The last time we saw Taylor alive, it was behind Melrose Diner on Snyder Avenue at two in the morning. It was a little bit after the rain had stopped; the clouds had disappeared and the moon was already covered by the quiet buildings that lined up on Main Street. There were still puddles on the tarmac, and the streetlights still had some raindrops trailing down their sides. The smell of wet rust and burnt florescence still lingered in the air - the normal fragrance of a night in Philadelphia, after a night of too much to drink and too few fucks to give.we won't bury you1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
We had all of our band gear already packed up in the back of Dave's shitty van, except for Taylor's old Ibanez guitar, which he kept in the gig bag that was strapped around his back. He liked to keep it with him after a particularly good show; it was a good-luck charm to him, and we needed all the luck we could get.
Beautiful Today, you are beautiful.Beautiful9 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Your parents tell you that you’re beautiful on every other day, too, but no one else ever does. The only time you matter to the world is at your shows. When you’re not beautiful, you’re nothing.
Today, though, you are shining. At least, you think you are, but you’re not feeling great. Your stomach hurts, just like it does before every pageant. Your dress is brand new, and you haven’t gotten used to the way it itches yet. You’re sure your wig is gorgeous, even though the hairspray smells bad.
Your teeth, though, are hurting the most. You know your flipper is a good one, but it doesn’t fit anymore.
The other girls are all beautiful too, crammed here in this
DanceGasp in. Hear nothing but the pounding of my heart. Feel nothing but the pulses beating through my body. The rhythm and the flow feel like electric shocks surging through my body. It seems endless, repeating over and over. Chills run through my body, yet I'm hot on fire. I feel the flames inside of me, pounding on my chest to be released with passion. My sweat is heavy, but I don't care. Panting, moving, panting, grinding. I see no one around me; I am oblivious. My body aches, tired. But I can't stop, not now. Just when I think I'm finished, I realize I have only begun.Dance3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Cheyennea sleepless nightCheyenne4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
-i'm thinking about you.
i don't know why you had to be the victim of horrid parents
they disgust me entirely.
it's not fair to you
you listen to me, babygirl, and listen closely
you are special
you are beautiful
you are the best thing that ever happened to me, and
you are loved.
so whenever you feel like no one cares
or whenever you ask why mommy doesn't come see you,
you just remember that i love you.
just close your eyes and pretend i am holding you,
singing you our favorite song
or whispering "i love you a million hugs and kisses" into your ear
babygirl, your mommy may not come see you
or tuck you in bed at nights like most mommies
but let me tell you something-
i love you more than she ever could
and i always will.