Ode to Ferris wheelClarice placed a finger over the dot labeled You Are Here and dragged it along the brown line that indicated the path she was on. Her eyes narrowed. The plastic covering that had once encased the map had been torn away leaving the paper exposed. Rain and wind had smeared the ink into illegible squiggles or else reduced it to stark white. She sighed loudly, letting her hand hit her side.Ode to Ferris wheel6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Whats wrong? A voice asked from behind her.
Clarice jumped. She still hadnt gotten used to his presence. A tall figure stood behind her. The grey rock climbing outfit he wore, still damp from the previous nights rain, clung to his lanky body. His two gloved hands clutched firmly on a pickaxe. The white cloth of his face folded in on dirty brown eyes, forming a look of puzzlement.
I was hoping to find the exit on this thing. Clarice jabbed a finger at the demolished parchment. But I guess nothing can be that simple, can it?
indiedusk descends onto giants of glassindie6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
these towers of death, these heights so crass
in the multi-story monsters of pain and work
where the lightless creatures thrive and lurk
yet thrive we in our vintage ways
as we wile about the summer days
not worrying towards the whens of now
only joy into our hearts we allow
and lo'! the queen of the indie scene!
floats down the stairs in a midnights dream
hailed by melbournites, and musos alike,
as we fade off into a lamp-lit night
down alleys of dark, we swoop and glide
and find the few last places to hide
for in our obscurities we seek a home
we be the indies! and we shall never be alone!
how to:being scared isn't at all like being nervous. it is opening the refrigerator door at three am, closing it. falling asleep and not realising you have woken up. wanting to disappear completely, and realise you could probably do it if you tried hard enough; making yourself stuck in your own mind. it is realising you could tell all your secrets to every soul in the world, and in the end it is still only you, sitting in that room and waiting. alone.how to:5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
everything becomes insignificant. any feelings you may have felt before. you don't even remember anymore why you were sprawled on the kitchen floor that night, drunk and crying. mumbling something about capsicum-monsters and sitting in the middle of the road and a car is coming. you probably haven't eaten for days, but in your mind it is still that moment and it keeps playing like a scratched cd.
you stop regretting that time you contemplated not braking, your attention slipping to the cracking red nail polish on your fingers.
it is like being s
Acceptance Ch 43 **Yaoi Warning**Acceptance Ch 438 years ago in Erotic More Like This
Its fucking freezing, Dev muttered as a gust of cool air slid up his sweater, a violent shiver wracking his body.
It is nearly Christmas, Dev, Jerry laughed, bouncing along beside him along the sidewalk. And you are just wearing a sweater.
Dev scowled. Its a warm sweater, and it isnt that far from the car to Jessicas house.
Then quit complaining, Jerry grinned, seemingly impervious to the cold as his thin shirt rode up an inch or two in time with his stride. Jerry gave Dev a wicked look. Or maybe I should say stop trying to get Jos to press up against you and warm you up. Were going to a party, after all, and I dont think you want to put on a show for people. A delicate pause. Another one, that is.
I don't want itBreathe, breathe, breathe...I don't want it5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I don't want it,
But I need it,
To feel this satisfaction,
I'm a bit sick,
Call the medic,
I can't handle this interaction,
I've given up to my inaction,
Day to pass,
Give me my God-damned sanction,
I just need it,
Would you give me all that you have?
I don't want it,
But I need it,
Would you die for me?
You don't feel this anymore,
Breaking inside my second skin,
I don't want it,
But I need it,
To feel alive again,
We've been fooled in,
How can we solve this dillemna?
If I can find it,
If we can sight it,
We'll be happy forever,
Go on, bite it,
I can't fight it,
You couldn't do much better,
A little more,
I just need it,
Would you give me all that you have?
I don't want it,
But I need it,
Would you die for the cause?
Memory girlShes the girl made up of memories.Memory girl6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Dark eyes hiding her past and pale skin stretched over things forgotten.
Id visit sometimes to make her laugh, just to hear the sound that makes you laugh and cry.
Wed stay up late and talk about our future, our plans. They didnt mean anything though.
Next morning shed have bags under her puffy eyes, and Id say Lets take pictures! You look perfect! Perfectly herself. A little girl full of and made from things long ago.
One night she told me her story. It was familiar and alien. Hearing it was like finding your drawer filled with your clothes all the wrong size.
I told her mine, she whispered at how opposite we were.
I think I cried that night.
At school our project was Show n Tell. I wanted to put you on the stage.
Instead I brought my scrapbook, and it was okay. Later she held my notebook and traced her fingers over the newspaper clippings, and I wondered if she knew how much she was like my preci
champagne-glass hearts.in advance; i thought you'd like to knowchampagne-glass hearts.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my heart is sorry for the pain it may
cause, even if i did warn you.
and maybe, you think i'm some glacial kind
of girl, suited for rubyred lips, late
nights and champagne glasses. the kind of
girl who is dainty and
precious, and cold and blanched. the kind of
girl who wears a string of pearls, the kind of
girl who could tie her spirit to a string. and
not leave it dragging against the concrete.
if that is what you want,
you would be better off dating a bird. it could
help you grow those wings you always talk about
and maybe a spine.
(i always thought that the only wings
you should be associated with
were the kinds that you and your drugged
friends were known to break into.)
when the lights were out and we were
alone, though, it was okay for you to
kiss me with a fierceness i could not
comprehend. it was okay for you to push
me further off the edge, as long as i
was still beside you. your bedroom voice
wasn't so "coaxing" and "seducti
already gone.mommy used to put me to sleep with horror stories.already gone.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
'boys don't have hearts,' she'd say, shaking her finger in my face. 'if something doesn't have a heart, it can't fall in love with you. remember that,
remember that before you fall in love with one.'
and i don't know what scares me more -
the memories of her horror stories, or the fact that this boy has a heart.
'you'll feel better tomorrow morning,' she tells me. 'i promise.'
lights are swirling in the background, forming shapes. there's a heart made of an icy blue, i notice, and raindrops made of black. 'what am i supposed to feel bad about in the first place?' i ask after a moment.
'you'll see,' she tells me, sadness on her tongue. she turns to leave, dress swirling in the dim lights.
'wait!' i call out, and she turns around. 'who are you?'
'someone you'll know, someday,' she says cryptically.
there's a beating growing in the background now, getting faster as time passes. it reminds me of a time bomb. five minutes
theme ten - breathetheme ten - breathe6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my windpipe collapsed last night
because i fastened a belt around
my neck so i would stop shouting
the worst truths and secrets about you
i was tired of tasting you every
time i would open my mouth
for oxygen; i stuck a rusty needle
through my lip so all i taste is metallic
i dared myself to breathe acids
through my nostrils; i smiled when
they tore through my nasal cavity
and pulled apart my bronchial tubes
when i pull my blanket over my
head at night i pretend it is to protect
me from the monsters; i always jolt
awake before i suffocate in dreams
i stopped smoking cigarettes because
you wanted my lungs to be healthy
the ironic thing is that whenever i breathe
you are in the air and i want to stop
crashing.'think of yourself as a breath of air,' he tells me. 'compared to the overall atmosphere, you are tiny. insignificant.'crashing.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
'but someone out there is breathing you in,' he continues. 'they're living off of you. you are the oxygen in their lungs, running through their veins and keeping them alive.'
i think that i'd be the polluted kind of air. the kind nobody wants. the kind that ends up killing people.
but i keep these thoughts inside.
'if i fell, would you catch me?' i ask, your fingers cold in mine.
'the crash is never as bad as they make it sound,' he says cryptically.
i take this to mean no.
'what do i remind you of?' you ask.
i have no answer.
but one day, i will find it.
and i'll write you a letter, because we both know you'll be long gone by then.
you remind me of dreams.
sometimes, i'll wake up from them happy. sometimes, i'll be afraid and crying.
sometimes, i'll just wake up empty.
but in the end -
i never can hang onto them.
White FrostUpon discussing the better output for deathWhite Frost6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Frost or flames
I choose frost.
I heard it's like falling asleep
And I wouldn't mind sleeping in your arms forever.
(They say you die from asphyxiation before the burns
I couldn't stand choking on the words I want to yell).
You say you hate your skinit's so full of marks and scars
All beautifully sprawled against pale, pale skin.
I just want to connect each one
So maybe you can stop being so ghostly
And stop disappearing
(My skin was too clean
So I dyed it red one night).
I always loved the feel of cold white air on bare skin
So torturous and painful, it almost felt good
Subtle reassurance that we haven't disappeared
(One day I'll build myself a rocket ship
So I really could).
The broken one,they called youThere were dead, torn teddy bears scattered all over the floor. The lame popular ones, that held plush hearts in their hands. I asked you why, and you told me that you liked ripping their hearts out, since you had no chance of doing it in real life. I quess it didn't count that you'd rummaged through mine well over a thousand times. Maybe I didn't matter; maybe I was just stubborn enough to think I did.The broken one,they called you6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You ripped heads off gummy bears, too. I opened the door to your room, and there were two kilograms of gummy bears on your couch, each without a head. It was almost funny. You didn't need the question - you already had your answer to why you would do such a thing. You met my gaze with your unbelievably sad, but still empty eyes. "Because they don't fight back."
You always reminded me of papier mache; your skin so gentle and pretty and fragile, there was no doubt anyone could ever resist you. So beautiful on the outside, and full of emptiness on the inside. You're lucky no one ever s
Failed Thesaurusthe way he watches herFailed Thesaurus6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
his heart must string to his eyes
because when he blinks
you swear the lack of her
rips another sepulcher in his heart
the things he whispers to her
with that lovely shake in his voice
makes you think he created a language
out of treble clefs and sixteenth notes
the way your heart blooms into a schism
the way your cheeks cover in tears
the things he writes to her
written with anything he can find
it doesn't matter if the medium
renders all the words opaque
someday.i. i will alwayssomeday.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
be waiting for my
(would you like
to wait with
giving up and
sound awfully nice.
(you are the reason why
iii. i believe that words
can paint rainbow
sunsets and rivers and
happiness and golden
skies and things full
(im still trying to figure out
iv. writing non-fiction
makes me feel horribly
for everyone to realize
im nothing special.)
v. i dont want
to anyone. i
only want to be
mine. i only want
(i like to pretend
BoneboneboneBoneboneboneBonebonebone6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
His hip bones;
They stick out his sides.
Like a thorn on a rose.
A presumed pest on a beautiful body.
Visible under his porcelain skin.
Like a fence in front a garden.
Sturdy to protect the fragile figure.
Keeping him together because hes got nothing else
refraining him from falling apart.
A beautiful boy breaking bone by bone.
secrets left in library books.1secrets left in library books.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i have redone
my personality and my
heart and my life and
all the things
in between. the only thing
that is not worth redoing
my heart had a
do not enter
mat on it, but you
never knew how to
listen, did you?
you promised me
if this is happiness,
you can have it
my shadow has
prettier than me.
you twirled me around,
in the park, once.
you said we will
reach the stars, sweetheart.
i wish i had known
you meant the
my heart used
to do this funny
thing for you.
now, it only
i always thought
seven was magical,
but then you took an
eraser to both.
i stay awake
just to stop the
(it never works.)
i will admit this:
i never deserved you.
you never deserved
your personal geography.You killed every one of my dreams. They were fragile and required deep digging, but you dug deep enough to find a way.your personal geography.6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
(Haven't you thought that by breaking every single one, you must have killed yourself multiple times?)
You didn't quite adore all the cracks on my heart, so you took it to lost-and-found. You labeled it lovely - "broken things are beautiful" was your anthem. Me, I didn't see it as beautiful.
(Just throw it out, no one could ever be interested in such an ugly hollow organ.)
Definition of a loser: someone who does not win. You used to say I won at losing, maybe to make seem less discouraging.
(So did I win or lose? No, I couldn't win. Not even at loosing.)
I once asked you to tell me the latitude and longitude of your love. You locked me out of the room while you were trying to figure it out.
(But you never did find the component needed before taking any measurements.)
theme two - lovei.theme two - love6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you crackle with static energy that
shocks the nerves into kineticism
and makes him forget how to move
the tips of his fingers so they meet yours
you are popsicle skies and hazy
mouths that cloud his mind
and his wristwatch so that he loses
track of time when he looks in your eyes
you have molten hands that forge
through hills and valleys of good morning
smiles so that they wrap around his
heart and he melts in your hands
you bring butterflies and foolishness
like they are doggy bags of
necessary emotion and you want to
make sure he is well fed
there is something ringing in my ear
after he stretches out upon the grass
and cannot stop telling me that
your eyelashes whisper "home"
i know a girl.her eyes are like the flowers on my doorstep:i know a girl.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
brilliant, glowing with vibrant color.
her secrets are like the coals in my fire:
red-hot, tender, secluded. deadly.
she hides them with her passionate flames,
that scorch her surroundings through her words
and unquenchable opinions.
the kids, they call her ember
or some times fire girl,
because she always seems
to be burning like a pyre.
one night, as we watched the stars,
she whispered in my ear.
she revealed to me her secret coals,
hiding behind the flames.
every word was painful, every syllable burned,
but her tears would heal my angry sores
and stay my inner fire,
and by the end of that long night
i had claimed her as my own.
i swallowed her fire, i embraced her pain,
and now that her secrets have scorched my heart
i know why she must burn.
i know a girl
she rages like a fire.
but when she smolders down
to searing coals, she is ten times
matchstick houses are castleswe lived in matchstick houses andmatchstick houses are castles6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
licorice forests. you called me baby
and i called you sweetie, honey, dear.
you took my hand and lead me straight
into life lessons, like how to casually
throw in a cuss word, like a hello-smile.
you taught me that when people throw
orange peels, paper plates and axes at
you, it only means they love you.
i taught you what it really means to
be sedated emotionally, and how to win
a girl in fifteen steps.
spencer, it's okay to walk around
in a too-big shirt and eat two-week
spencer, you told me i would be prettier
with blue eyes, or green eyes, or any
color other than cinnamon.
that day i took over fifty photographs
of myself, and in each one i scribbled
over my eyes in
all the colors in the sky, except for fawn.
we used to sit on wooden benches in
public places, and share secret glances,
because i was the girl nobody liked, and
you were the boy everybody loved. maybe
that was why it could never have worked
out, if you really wanted to hold
grandeur and gravityi.grandeur and gravity6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one emotionally turbulent day you said
i was past the clouds, turned into
a star; if i am the star then i cannot
ever find the words of your brilliance
i would call you a supernova because
they are infinitely brighter than stars
but i would be lying; you are not my
destruction; you are my inspiration
maybe you are the gravity of my life
you took me by my hesitant fingertips
and showed me how to secure pieces of
me so that they will not fall apart and away
you are undoubtedly the universe in
which i formed the theory of my being
without you i would have never found
the secret of living versus being alive
once upon a time i tried to compare you
to space so you would understand your grandeur
you placed your hands on the scars of my
skin and told me you were simply with me
theme twelve - insanityi.theme twelve - insanity6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she was a lithe beauty with alabaster
skin that caught the moon and his eye
there was a flash; flint against steel irises
he knew he would make her his
she was harder to follow in daylight
shadows were not so long that he could
fit inside them and wrap himself in all
the possibilities of her taste and scent
in the chill of valentines day alleyways
he had her; fingers slowly pushing in
on the most fragile of elongated tracheas
shh--the cold is just like falling asleep
she could sing out notes not even the
fantasies of mozart would ever replicate
silver had always been his favorite form of
inspiration; it slashed deeper than ivory keys
he had never fallen in lust with virgin
bones; hers snapped gentler than any others
in the angles of moonlight his lips and
breath were stained carnivorous reds