Please...Is everything worth it?
I am sitting here, typing. I am alone, both physically and mentally, it seems. The clouds outside are in limbo; to rain or not to rain?
Is everything worth it?
Every day that thought flashes in my mind. Every day I am surrounded by self-absorption, selfishness and hate. Every day I question myself
Is everything worth it?
Is my life worth existing? Is my existence worth living?
The majority of my friends have gone, disappeared, and I clutch at the friends I do have, terrified that they will go too.
I dont understand how people can be so self-centred, so rude and so mean. How did we reduce ourselves to something so low?
Is it to seek attention? Is it for popularity and to appear cool?
I get shunned, but I dont mind. Im used to it. Im used to people ignoring me, Im used to people looking at me in disgust, Im used to the feeling of worthlessness as if Im not a living, breathing person who can fe
Every PersonThere should beEvery Person7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Enough of it to go around.
Every person should
Take a slice of it.
Knowing they will
Be complete afterwards.
They should see
That it can be found.
Right from where theyre stood,
Their hearts can be lit.
The chase and the thrill
Their heart, playing chords.
InvocationThe best way I have found to make a dinner party interesting is to drive my darling Dmitri to distraction. So while the straight-backed men and their purse-lipped wives discuss the rise of genetic mutations in the unfortunates who breed in the craters outside the city, I sit on the edge of my chair and stroke his leg with one bare foot. My food, picked over and left to go cold on the plate, looks no more appetizing than my cutlery, but my Dmitri is as ravishing as ever. I hold his gaze as the men chuckle and the women titter at the plight of the poor.Invocation6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I am unsure why we agreed to attend the dinner; the man at the far end of the table is some sort of official, but I do not believe I have encountered him before. My Dmitri probably knows him. He knows a lot of persons in high social and economic standing. I watch his right hand clench around his fork before he sets it down and folds his hands on the table, pretending to listen to the conversation. My toes brush his knees, parting them wit
GravediggerTo the residents of Laughter,Gravedigger4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I am Leopold Smalls, the boogieman to some. I know you have heard of me. I know you speak of me in hushed voices, sharing stories featuring me as a vampire, or a necrophile. My personal favourite is that I am the devourer of small children who do not mind their mothers. I understand why you all fear me; I dig graves in the dead of night for all the cemeteries in the area. I keep death close to me at all times by living on cemetery grounds. When there are no graves to be dug, I know you all see me walking the aisles of headstones and visiting those past. I have never ventured into the city during the day and I do not attend any town functions. There is something very unsettling about a man who prefers the company of the deceased. I think it's time you all know that I am not in love with the dead, though I do envy them. Despite all you have heard or said, I am just a man. I am twenty-seven years old, as I have been for longer than I can now remember. Read my
Melody of MimiDances with the devilMelody of Mimi7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A phone call home
Singing in the shower
Captured light dome
Looks through the steam
In a window of red
Flames licking her shoes
Screams in her head
Howling her silence
The beats of her heart
Keeping in balance
Dodges cupids dart
Alone with her ghost
Company now kept
Trashes her room
Sleeps in a bed unkempt
Borrows anothers nightmare
Calls it her sanity
Driving to distraction
Her keepers of flesh
Heaven is laughing
At her attempts to mesh.
Waiting in the dark
Living for this day
Without words to say.
Death Lies On HerHere I sit... waiting impatiently for your last breath.Death Lies On Her4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know it's wrong of me to think this way... but I can't help it.
And I have no excuse.
(I promise I will think of one.)
We sit around you praying for miracles
And when your hand twitches, we cancel the casket.
But the bitter truth bites at our heels
(if only we could live in the lies we tell)
No matter how badly we wish to pretend, reality always has to kill our false hopes...
BalanceIts about balance, said the girl in the coffee shop. You know, two sides of the coin.Balance6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She looked over steepled fingers, left-hand-nails painted black and right-hand-nails painted white. A personal reminder, she called it, but she never said what of. Said you could guess if you paid attention, and most people didnt.
Something glinted on her wrist, turned into a band of silver and gold that she said shed made special when she lived on a farm. She stirred cream after cream into her coffee, black fading to grey fading to the kind of purple-brown that only comes from artificial sweeteners in cheap fluorescent lights. The smile that swam across her features was genuine when she commented that you couldnt get good cream anymore.
Balance, she repeated, as if tasting the word in her mouth. Youre all so scared of breaking even. Always have to come out ahead, whatever that means.
Laughter that matched the silver bells o
Meet You In HeavenWe have a pact that whoever dies firstMeet You In Heaven8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Will find a phone booth in heaven
And call to let us know if there's an all-you-can-eat buffet,
If you have wings and halos
And what the temperature is.
We laugh but we know in our hearts
If possible, we would somehow connect
Even after life has lead to our untimely death.
We have a promise to meet when we're eighty--
Dressed up as saintly nuns and holding tight
To our bibles, prayer beads and water pistols,
With a hearse waiting in front of the building for a quick get-away;
We're going to rob a bank someday.
We laugh now but we've come to unders
Someone mustThis winter sky is unceasingly blue.Someone must7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Its changelessness telling me nothing.
I wait for the grey morning light to reveal its intentions.
Let the shadows resolve themselves.
Let the day show its face!
Because soon I must rise and move and choose.
The sky tells me nothing.
The trees keep their secrets.
The bird song is muted,
The wind elusive.
No help. Not the slightest of clues.
Once your waters were warm and inviting.
A summer sprite, I swam in them.
Slowly they froze.
But remembering the warmth, I was too slow to pull myself from your cooling embrace.
You didnt ask me to leave.
You just tried to freeze me out.
Now Im stuck in the ice.
Love me or let me go.
Im not strong enough to break free.
How Many.How many of us are suffering in silence?How Many.6 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Does anyone believe that the other person cares? That they will listen and do something, anything?
How many of us are suffering in silence?
So much that we are rendered mute, eyes to the ground, ashamed of looking up, not having the confidence to even look at ourselves, believe what is honestly right, and stand up for what we believe in.
How many of us are suffering in silence?
Our 'rights'; continuously t h r a s h e d like what someone calls a 'thing' and you a 'body', a 'heart', a 'life'.
Our 'freedom'; [incarcerated] no longer a human being, but a 'thing' that doesn't exist and isn't even worthy of the liberty to see, hear, taste, touch and smell.
Our 'happiness'; where we don't (can't) have a conscious thought to dream of those days, cling onto those dreams, because we are too busy surviving just one. more. day.
How many of us are livi