The color of waterHe takes my hand and plants heat in my palm.The color of water6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Hurry, hurry, he urges me and his voice is distant and warm.
Its June but there are no crickets chirping. The air has turned into tulle and swallows veil themselves in pink and gray. The ground opens greedy under our feet as we run, we stumble into her hunger for moons and craters, for dirt. Its swollen and clods like balloons creak in the dense dusk and fill the clouds. We spoon them in our soles, the rain forks them. Were cols of paper, flushes of spilt milk and our lines disappear as the water keeps overwriting. Were bronchi, fleshy and bloody and white with air and the air thumps around us like a big heart, dipping into the ground and popping out as she spits it, crying all the names of the sun. It embraces her like a lusty lover, howling, moaning, screaming, returns her to her most savage and frantic desire breathe, breathe, breathe. A million little lungs.
He drags me into the small hut and we
Last KissShe thought her love for him was slowly fadingLast Kiss8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As she stood beneath the stars
For as she Gazed within his eyes
It was only then she worked out
She did not know him
As she thought she did
For his eyes were like
An ocean deep beneath its waves
The darkness they held were everlasting
Holding mysteries and years
She had not seen before
She had thought it meant she did not love him
She whispered into his ear
I do not love you anymore
She knew then
She had broken his heart into a million pieces
For there upon his eyelid lay a sparkling tear
She had never before seen a tear in his eye
It turned her heart to ice
He took her hand and kissed it
Unknown to her
This was the last kiss he would ever give to a soul
For he ran into the ocean
And disappeared within its waves
She stood there
The memory of his last kiss
Graved within her heart and soul forever
She lay upon the soft yellow sand
And gazed sadly towards the stars
And wept until she could not weep no more
She knew she had killed the only sou
As It Happens - Chapter 1As It Happens - Chapter 17 years ago in Teen More Like This
My mom meant everything to me, and I had always admired her. As a little girl, my mom would go out of her way to make it my school functions and the occasional softball game (which I sucked at). Yet she was my biggest fan. I still don't know how she managed to go to my softball game in the seventh grade and Lindsey's school play all in the same night.
I may have looked like her, but my mom was definitely prettier, though she wouldn't dare to admit it. She had long, golden blonde hair (literally, the way it looks in movies, it wasn't fair), and even though she was forty-two, she could get away with pigtails. My hair was white blonde, nowhere near as beautiful as my mother's. She and I both had piercing blue eyes; however the lack of sleep in my schedule is causing mine to turn a dull gray.
Sometimes when I think of my mom, anger gets t
I Used To BeOur toes are making tidal waves in the water, dusk-dazed legs dangling from the pier, as she rests her head on my shoulder. Hair the color of cedar bark, and as fine as spider silk, tickles my chin, as she lifts her cheek.I Used To Be5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
My eyelids, pinned down by fireflies and dying embers, open sleepily, and I scan her body, a slender silhouette against the burning sunset. "I used to be a mermaid." Her lips, the pale pink of a catfish belly, whisper to me, as fingertips brush the white tips of persistent waves.
I can't manage more than a drowsy, "Oh?" captivated by the curve of her back, bent so can whisper to the waves, and the quiet melody she produces with her words.
"Mhmm." It's more of a sigh, dripping with longing, that splashes into the warm water, and caresses our feet. "But they caught me in their nets. I remember the sudden change of current, and the sweeping green mesh that stole me out of my waters. Their wide eyes, and grimy fingers, insistent on poking and prodding my every limb. They
Ever Notice?--1You Ever Notice? part-1Ever Notice?--15 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
You ever notice, some people think it's cool to be crazy? Really, they think it makes them 'unique' or something. They say it jokingly, most people. But some of them, they take pride in it. They think they're just getting the biggest compliment when someone says they're nuts. It means they stand out, it means they have something people notice.
Now, real crazy people, they don't want you to know they're crazy. That is, if they know themselves. I guess I can't say that, I'm not crazy myself, but I know some people, and they just don't want people to notice. Take this girl. She's right down the street from me, year older, always has been. She's fucking insane. You know how I know? Because she's so. Perfectly. Bland. She doesn't stand out a bit, you wouldn't notice her in a crowd of one. You can't
Devil In The Details - Chpt 1My alarm shrieked at me from across the room while I struggled to disentangle myself from my sheets. Finally free I stomped across to my desk and hit the off button. I'm not a great morning person. In fact, I should probably come with a warning label of some kind. But it suits my line of work, after all very few of the malevolent supernatural set I have encountered tend to put a foot out of line before sundown.Devil In The Details - Chpt 15 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
I looked at my bed, briefly considering making it before I took a shower. The ache in my muscles and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke in my hair strong-armed the faint domestic feelings back into submission. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pour over me. The water pummelled my tired shoulders and I let the heat soak into my skin. I shouldn't have even been working last night, but I couldn't resist getting a little bit of extra practice in before tonight. Strictly off the books of course. Squires aren't supposed to hunt solo. But following orders isn't one of
somewhere in betweenYoure the little placesomewhere in between6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Between awake and asleep:
I remember dreaming.
Fate SmiledFate Smiled8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That day I saw you,
That wondrous day when fate smiled at me,
Was the day I knew what it meant to live.
There was something in the way you greeted me,
The way your eyes saw my soul like no other before,
That assured my heart it was safe with you.
You were just like me,
Self-broken and falling apart.
None of us knew the answers,
But we knew we could journey together in search of them.
Together we healed:
Holding each other's hearts in trembling hands.
Knowing no matter the distance between us,
We had finally found that one thing we desired:
1. Introduction1. Introduction8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Welcome to my story
A life of words that rhyme
Truth be told its horror
Broke my grand design
My life is filled with wonder
Things of which Im proud
But every drop that passes
Darkens my black cloud
I was banished once from heaven
To my earthly grave
A hell thats wrought with demons
No angels came to save
So every thought thats in my head
Spills upon this page
The message in my bottle
Release me from my cage
HeavenLove was all that I needed to liveHeaven8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And I found it there in your heart
But I lost it in a haze of events
For you left me without a word
In a world with all but compassion
I tried so hard not to cry
Because I knew you hated to see me cry
But the pain my soul was enduring was overwhelming
For it had lost its heart
I miss you
I miss you so badly
I hope I will see you again one day
I know it will be in heaven
A beautiful place full of hope and dreams
But until then
Everyday I think of you
And the day you slipped away from me
That day was the day I knew my life had changed forever
The only thing that soothes my soul
Is when I talk to you within my mind
Hoping that you can hear me
The only thing I heard from the day you slipped away from me
Was the sound of my howling soul
It has been in pain
For its heart was ripped away from it
To this day do I hear my howling soul
All I can do is pray that the day I fly to heaven
Will come soon
LonlinessTell me lonliness, what's it gonna takeLonliness11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For you to leave me alone today
HungerHunger12 years ago in Humor More Like This
Lynn had never seen her eat so much. The fish finger entrée, the soup, the salad and lasagne, the two pieces of chocolate cake... Lynn stared at her still half full plate of salad. It was insane. As Clara ordered her third piece of cake, Lynn couldn\'t hold it in any longer.
"What is up with you?" she asked. "I have never seen you eat so much!"
Clara blushed and swallowed. "Well, I am eating for two now..."
Lynn yelled happily. "Oh god! Oh god, you didn't tell me you and Frank were trying to get pregnant! When's it due?"
Clara's blush deepened. "Actually, she said, wiping the chocolate from the corner of her mouth, "I have a tapeworm."
Because He Loves HerThe sky is blueBecause He Loves Her7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because it's the color of her eyes
Music captures the heart
Because of the melody of her laugh
Art is beautiful
Because the colors are reminiscent of her
The wind blows
Because of the way her hair dances with it
Because of the way she can be so warm
Because they smell like her
Love stories are written
Because they give her hope
And make her smile
The ocean is deep
Because he loves her
One KissI've come to steal your heart,One Kiss8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the dark moonlight hours.
Outside your door,
I know you'll come.
Your heart longs to be joined,
with the beating of mine.
And so the door opens,
as I knew it would.
With your hair all tangled,
from sad attempts to sleep,
you slide into my arms,
drifting in a half state of dreaming.
Is it really you? you ask,
with your slender arms,
tight about my neck.
Of course, I whisper back,
brushing my hands through your hair.
I knew you would come, you whisper again,
giving me a kiss,
that I have long desired,
since I went to sleep,
the morning before.
I sweep you off your feet,
and carry you in both arms,
as you drift in and out of sleep,
with your arms tight about my neck.
many many miles with you in my arms.
You stir slightly,
as the wind brushes your nightgown,
causing you to get the chills.
You cling to me closer,
as I always imagined you would.
Soon we reach our final destination,
the place where the li
A pastoral ode to life revised In May the first mosquitoes tootle in my head still somewhat daubed with winter coal smoke.A pastoral ode to life revised6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Alone I recall the early mornings when white clouds like an angora rollicked with a red clew over the hills, while my father drives in silence.
Hes the best driver I know.
Dew oozes through the cars windows and sticks to our faces.
Poets write about journeys and dusty roads.
Life is like a highway, really.
Some have a car and drive through it in breath-taking speed. Some simply overtake it. Sometimes people crash trees.
Sometimes victims, sometimes survivors, people often stare at graves unfolding in the very beginning. And then drive away.
They called me superwoman. My ward carried the pride and glory of the hospital, immodestly, because of me. I sometimes had dreams about it watching my right hand flame in tiny sparks like the shape of hope and magical
On StrengthMany people claim that strength of heart; strength of spirit is an attribute of they themselves. That because they've been through hardship, pain, and heart-ache, that they're able to take it again on their own.On Strength8 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
What none of us want to stop and consider is that strength is not a personal attribute. Our strength comes from the others around us. We have to lean back to back to stand at all. Our souls were not meant to stand alone in the wilderness and drive back the night.
You can't measure strength in lives saved or pain endured, but in the people who lend you that strength, that power. And their power is lent to them by others, so that no one has to lend too much of their own will, their own soul.
The only people who have to worry are those who stand at the connection of the many cords of paths, where the strength of our people is channeled. While the strength is there, the power is too much; they cannot handle the simple strain of passing the power along. And so that intersection beco
with an absentminded smileShe hands me my school uniform; it is warm like crumpets fresh from the toaster. Another winter, another year to my small collection and she still does this every day.with an absentminded smile7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It doesn't matter that my feet are nearly as big as hers or that I'm too old for dolls or lego; this was like nestling in her arms when I was twenty inches long, soothed by the soft humming of a lullaby - that she told me later on was a Phil Collins song, not a nursery rhyme like all the other kids had - whispering memories echoed the name of Crystal, a fellow five year old at school who taught me a real nursery rhyme, Jack and Jill. I thought it was a secret song she'd had made up, but when I told mum she sang along too; and so we hummed together, with tiny specks of caramel dotted around our lips from a treat, which was a congratulations for a certificate of some description.
Though the routine never spoiled the surprise, I worried of a monotonous feeling for her, perhaps she felt like a slave. Maybe when she took my c
Because...Kovah Setters, Sophomore, HomeroomBecause...7 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
Most people say that homeroom is useless. I find it relaxing, though. Its an unproductive period, but its a good place to think. There isnt anything we need to do in homeroom; just sit there and wait for the bell to ring. I guess I take comfort in the moments with no obligations, the moments people mistake for wastes of time. Todays homeroom is quiet as usual. People are always sleepy when they get here. One kids even got his head down on his desk. I look at my own desk. The words, Life sucks, are written in blue ink. Why? If it was so important to point out, I dont see why the person couldnt be more specific. I take out an eraser and miraculously the words disappear beneath the pink shreds. Youre not supposed to write on the desks, but I pick up my pen and write on it anyways. If youre going to write on it, might as well be something important.
Prisoner -part four- You seem troubled sire, the maid observed as she brought him in some fresh clothes. Is something the matter?Prisoner -part four-6 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
You mean other than the fact that this morning I was a thief, and now Im suddenly a prince?
Eliroh watched as she placed the clothes on a chair, neatly folded and pressed. The shirt was brightly coloured blue, the kind of colour that would cost a lot for any regular person to even find, and the trousers were a deep, majestic black. It was impossible to tell without handling them, but he was almost certain that they would be made of as rich a material as the bedclothes were.
You were always a prince, sire. Just didnt know it.
She seemed a friendly young lady, not dissimilar to the many girls he knew of her age around the town. Of course, they had treated him more of an equal than she ever would now.
Maybe not, but it never did
One noteAffection was the songOne note8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
crawling up your spine like
a fiery guitar solo
Possessing your skeletal lovethought
but not feeding it quite enough
to sustain the chord
Love was music to your virgin soul
it fed the tuneless empty space
til a note grew from within...
filled your world...
You absorbed the tune
it became a symphony of bliss
it played itself back to me in your kiss.
1. How It's DoneI bury my hands in my pockets and breathe in the crisp morning air. Dried autumn leaves crunch under my feet as wind blows in my hair, whispering for me to turn back. I shake the chills and keep glacing back. I can't help but feel that I'm being followed. I look up to ugly grey sky and challenge the dark clouds, daring them to do their worst. I wouldn't care if I were suddenly drenched in rain. At this point I might even stand my ground, staring blankly up into the sky with my mouth open and drown myself. I heard chickens die that way.1. How It's Done7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I step meekly into the corner deli. Stomach says feed me, feet say yeah and all of the sudden there are breads and cheeses and fancy little cakes everywhere. Damnit. I don't have 5 bucks to my name. Not 2, even. I figure if I dig all the change out of my pockets, drop it on the counter and say : "One of everything, please!" They might think I'm charming and spare me something. My guardian taught me that. He also taught me to act, which has
MindMeldI undressed your mindMindMeld8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I helped you shed that little off the shoulder number,
then the stockings, the heels, all the rest...
Your thoughts stood naked before me
Beautiful to look at, they were
they shone like diamonds -
every inkling twinkled
My own thoughts joined with them
our brains together in perfect union
a heady display of affection
we wrapped around each other's lobes
forgetting to come up for air
the room swirled in a million togetherthoughts
then stopped -
breathlessly we looked at each other
knowing we need look no further
for psychic salvation.
I kissed your temple tenderly
as you lay in my arms -
The search was over.
moth-eaten curtainsI sit on the carpetmoth-eaten curtains6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where gaps are filled
with chewing gum and dead spiders,
it's here, time,
I tell her everything;
use the words that are scribbled
on the paper with bright pink ruled
lines and no margins
kept in a shoebox beneath my bed.
The curtains were moth-eaten.
Damp marks left from leaks
swirl shapes on the
ceiling and the wall behind me,
smelling like clothes
that have flapped in the rain
and fallen in a pile, then worn
too many times;
in here, this time,
the whole building appears
yet with the windows intact
and exterior bricks
The smell of summer
She stares at me with those
with sharp edges still not glittering when
the last of the day's sunlight
sneaks in through closed curtains.
They are fake, not even glass;
ice: melting down her face.
A body of a snow man on
patrol in summer, her posture becomes
increasingly flaccid, the skin on her stomach
ripples, visible through her pyjama vest.
I watched my words eat her,