geneticism"i hate when you tell me you love me."geneticism4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"i love you."
"do you love her?"
"that old bag making sounds like a death rattle?"
"can't you just accept that i love you and move on?"
"not unless you tell me why you can't love her, too."
"because i love you, you're special to me."
"she should be special to you, too."
"i don't know her. she's nothing to me."
"she should be everything to you."
"why? how can i love her?"
"look. how can we love some people but not others? how can you love me but not the old woman sitting next to you on the city bus, breathing like city smoke and wringing her hands? i wring my hands, too."
"you're not like her. you're not like anyone else."
"you're making yourself look stupid. i'm the exact same as everyone else. we're all so similar. i mean, we're ninety-nine percent the same as any given person on this planet on a genetic level. we're all combinations of the same handful of characteristics, inside and out. you shouldn't lov
Strangers 2 - N.Je suis cette fille.Strangers 2 - N.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Celle que tu vas croiser une fois dans la rue et qui te hantera pour le reste de ta vie.
Je sais que je suis cette fille, je le vois dans le regard des gens que je frôle. Ils écarquillent les yeux en m'apercevant, s'imaginent ma vie, fantasment sur l'image que je renvoie.
Je suis cette fille, qui marche sous le déluge sans parapluie.
Mes longs cheveux blonds ruisselant d'eau et me collant au visage, la pluie dégoulinant sur ma veste rouge, les gouttes finissant par s'écraser sur le trottoir gris.
Et pendant une seconde tu envies ces gouttes, car elles me rendent magnifique.
Mes talons claquent sur le ciment, faisant voler des gerbes d'eau. Et je marche comme une reine.
Non, comme une princesse. C'est pour ça que tu me regardes, tu as envie de me sauver. De m'abriter sous ton parapluie, de m'offrir un café et de me demander pourquoi je pleure.
Mais tu ne le fais pas, personne ne le fait jamais.
Je continue de marcher sous la pluie,
i hate myselfthe rain is pouring and lighting flashes across the sky - illuminating my seemingly dead backyard for split seconds at a time. the fine film of water that covers my exposed skin and the vicious wind give birth to the goosebumps that form across the planes of my skin, and it feels like winter again.i hate myself5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
strange how the world seems only to want to remind me of you, of the nights we spent together.
even stranger, how it is only the roaring storms and shivering hands that remind me of you.
i have spent months telling myself there is something beyond this town, that somewhere in the world there is a place for me, without you. but now, i realise that i don't want that.
i realise it's only the pills that supress my real emotion, only the drugs that enduce the placebo of happiness.
im scared of what im becoming - scared that without you, i really am nothing.
because that's exactly how i feel - meaningless. i move through these days without a purpose, without a target, a goal, an end-point. it's di
His ScentShe imagined the smell of him -His Scent6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bergamot and lime
and something unfamiliar,
and his slow walk
through her soul
like the end of the world
and how his weight
would be inescapable
and alive with summer.
She imagined his touch,
warm water in the bath
and the rich twist of silk
and how she knew
he would taste
just like that first time
when the streets crawled home
and dawn broke
in slow thunder.
A moment in time, chap.1A moment in time, chap.16 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Elian. His name was Elian and he was beautiful. I took him because he was beautiful and when he first told me his name, it sounded like music. Elian. Just try and say it, try and taste it as it flows down your tongue like ice, melting. Ice becomes water, water turns into steam that rises into the heavens and there it is gone.
So is he. Elian. I tell myself that I set him free but I know that I killed him.
I only meant to have him, never love him. There is no such word in my language. We possess others, we take and have them, cast them aside when we no longer desire, but we do not love. Love is his word and once he asked me if I do and I told him that it was nonsense, that I knew no such emotion.
It was both lie and truth. I did not know the word or the meaning of it, not before I saw my Elian, desired him and took him, had him but I never cast him aside.
But let me tell you how this came to be, so that you might learn from it and never take up such a foolish course in lif
Little SweetheartYou call me yourLittle Sweetheart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When we're alone.
Never where anyone
might hear you.
I almost expect you
to look from left to right.
Making sure no one
Are you ashamed of me?
Is that what it is?
My love is not good enough?
I give you all my time,
and you hide me away.
Even a doll gets shown off,
every now and again,
but not me.
We're alone now,
no one is around
to hear you call me
your little sweetheart.
Near's ClubMello: That Near makes me so mad.Near's Club7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Matt: What'd he do this time?
Mello: He said I was too gay to join his club.
Matt: Really...He let me join.
Mello:WHAT?!......We're both equally gay.
Matt: Actually you're slightly gayer than I am.
Mello: Well I never.You know what I'm going to call near right now.(*calls Near*)
Mello: So Matt can join your club but not me.That's not fair,I can't be that gay.
Matt: Actually you're gayer than most gay guys.
Near: Matt's right.
Mello: Shut up.(*starts crying*)...................
Near: Are you crying.
Mello: No *sniff* I just have something in my eye.
Mello: Near if you let me join your club I'll do anything you tell me for a week.
Matt: No you won't.
Near: Seriously,you're that desprate..Okay come to me house tomorrow.Bye.
Matt: If he tries to do you you better walk your little chocolate-eating-ass right out of there.
Mello: Near would never be implying something like that ;would he?
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[The Next Day at Ne
SunburnShe kissed my sunburnt shoulders;Sunburn6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
White lip prints faded on my skin.
I closed my eyes as she sang to the sunset,
Fresh emerged from the cool solitude
Of a crater-lake copse,
Stumbling through strange crops
Dusted with sunlight.
I watched in the forest
As the medieval shade undressed her.
We time-travelled through our own dark ages,
Walking until we left ourselves behind
In the wilting bluebells.
In the evening he smelt of Eternity,
She tells me about his smile, and I imagine
Layers of needle teeth like a shark.
She shivers at the chuckle of a motorbike
And jumps when I touch her shoulder.
I tell her to open her eyes.
ReveJai rêvé que je prenais un marteau, pour péter tous mes doigts, phalange après phalange, navoir plus quun mélange de chaires et de poussières dos.Reve7 years ago in Other More Like This
Quil ne reste plus rien de mes mains, plus de ligne de vie, plus de ligne de destin.
Jai rêvé que je prenais une perceuse, pour cribler mon crâne de trous, que mes migraines, mes pensées puissent foutre le camp, et pouvoir tout oublier.
Quil ne reste plus rien de mon passé, plus de souvenirs, plus de chagrin.
Jai rêvé que je prenais un mixer, pour y balancer mon cur, mon estomac, mes poumons, mon foie, pour en faire une bouillabaisse dabats, puisquils ne sont plus bons quà ça.
Quil ne reste plus rien de mon corps, qui ne fait que se plaindre et geindre.
Jai rêvé que jarrachais mes veines et mes artères, pour que plus rien de superficiel ne maintienne mon corps de p
Gay Things Mello DoesMiriam: Hi I'm Miriam and this is the"Gay Things That Mello Does When No One's Looking Special"and with me today is Matt and he is going to assist me.Gay Things Mello Does7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Matt: Please no applause..........and no cameras.
Miriam:........Don't get slapped Matt.
Miriam: Now we are going to tell you some gay things that Mello does when no one's looking....hence the name.
Matt: Now everytime you see this....................XD..............................someone's going to come in here and tell us something gay about Mello got it,good.
Miriam: Hey Matt.
Matt: What Miriam?
Miriam: Why don't you tell us a story about Mello.
Matt: I'd love to.So one time me and Mello were driving to Disney World and I stopped at Starbucks to get some coffee and all of a sudden Mello starts laughing in his sleep.
Miriam: Did he tell you what he was dreaming about?
Matt: I was too scared to ask.
Miriam: Oh look it's Near. Hi Near
insomniaci can't sleep becauseinsomniac6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
im thinking about scary movies
rough hands and your mouth.
the way it moves when you mumble and
the crease at the corner when you smile.
i keep singing the same song
by that boy everybody loves
about feeling alone, so alone.
so now i think about my life and how
it seems so empty for all i pull into it
and i want to cry but i wont because
it doesn't help at all.
i just pretend you're coming
to see me maybe tomorrow
and i pretend i have you to
look for when i wake up.
i can almost feel you holding
on to me, onto my hand like
there's nothing more real
in the whole wide world than
what is here between us.
im not sure where you will be in
the next days and months and years
but i can't sleep because i'm still
thinking about you and the way
your arm used to rest in the small
of my back.
and the way you would pull the sheets up
all the way to your chin in your sleep.
and the whispers that
passed between our lips
like the kisses we shared
while imagining we were
the only o
The stormCartilage-smooth azure extendsThe storm6 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
above bent heads.
Furrows s t r e t c h b e y o
the edge n
Trust Me.On one pleasant summer day, Reilley's swinging her tiny legs and she, just like any other little kid her age, is enjoying her turn on the swing, her face glowing as she giggles and clings to the chains, small hands clenched, keeping her from flying off, into the sky for just a moment, and then crashing to the ground. Right here, on this swing, it's the closest she can get to flying.Trust Me.7 years ago in Teen More Like This
Ryan Walker, he's right behind his best friend, laughing along and pushing her, and then he almost stumbles at a particularly high swing.
When Ryan pushes a little too hard, Reilly loses her grip, slips, falls to the ground and scrapes her arm, and sparkling tears build up in her big, blue eyes.
Reilly, at age six, learns that even the closest of friends can hurt you.
* * * * * *
At age twelve, Reilly learns that her friendship with Ryan comes with sacrifices.
"Hey, Rei!" Ryan calls, and he jogs over to the girl, hair tied up in a fierce pony tail, eyes set and glinting with concentration, compe
End RemembranceEnd Remembrance3 years ago in Historical More Like This
Remembrance Day originates at the end of World War I. The idea is to honor those who died in the line of duty, defending their country from enemies. For all its pompous words and fancy granite memorials littered with colorful flower bouquets, Remembrance Day and others like it have failed miserably in achieving this goal.
I've often been criticized as having no respect, and that can be an impediment when discussing certain topics. However, I am often in luck – hypocrisy deserves no respect. What changed as a result of the enormous sacrifice of those who died in WW1? As the first bombs of WW2 fell just two decades later, millions once again obediently lined up under various pieces of colored cloths to slaughter and be slaughtered. It became obvious that absolutely nothing had changed, and that the millions of WW1 had died in vain.
Most would agree that all that lip service paid to the sacrifice between the two world wars wasn't good enough. To truly honor their sacrifice would be
I have loved you...---I have loved you...8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In another time, I may have been your late night
confessionary, a Parisian whore to your
gentle hands and overwhelming needs. I could see us
loving each other without knowing names.
We are at times both romantic enough, and tragic
enough, for that.
And if I was not full of sin enough
to beckon your fingers to my skin, perhaps I
was only a girl you met for
un café au lait. You laid
your hand over mine beneath autumnal arbres, and we
made small talk about the world. Perhaps;
we are masters at making love with strangers. And you
peu importe. Je sais que je t'ai touché, dune
III. Bohemian RhapsodyIII. Bohemian Rhapsody5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Twenty five years was a long time to spend in a box. Over a half of his life was locked away in that small cement box. A locked iron door served as the only unforgiving adornment. It was mere punishment at first, to him, but then the stunning loneliness became less and less tolerable as the time crawled by. The cell seemed to shrink every so often, the space becoming tighter and tighter until it seemed there was barely room to breathe. His prison cell was slowly, unstoppably becoming his coffin. As the walls closed in, he began to pound, pound, pound on the door, screaming for someone, for anyone. His life flashed before him his average childhood, rough adolescence, marrying his college sweetheart, putting a gun to a man's head and pulling the trigger until it clicked empty. And then his life ended and hell began. He scratched furiously at the walls, searching for a flaw or a crack or a single mote of dust captured by oh-so-glorious sunlight. But th
MissverstaendnisRette sich wer kann!Missverstaendnis2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Keiner ist sicher
vor der garstigen Klaue
Doch wohin nur wohin?
ist so genau
das er nicht
von einem unruhigen Geist
missverstanden werden kann.
Meine gewohnten Wortwerkzeuge
erscheinen plötzlich so stumpf
so unpräzise und grob
es scheint ich könnte nur daneben treffen.
Personen, denen ich meine Hand entgegen strecke
schneiden sich an meinen scharfkantigen Fingernägeln
als wären es gegen sie gerichtete Spitzen.
Stumm schließe ich den Mund.
ziehe ich meine Hand zurück.
ThoughtsWe are bornThoughts6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
With our own thoughts
However basic then.
But they are our own
So I wonder
If one could read minds
Would it help
Them to understand others?
Or would it be no use
Since we are all so different
And have, each, our thoughts
All our own?
We Watched Ourselves Dissipatewe caught our breath with butterfly netsWe Watched Ourselves Dissipate8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the pieces of each other's wings
that stuck in our lungs.
the sky gave a shiver and the stars
unsealed, their firefly cores shimmering
plucking them from the air, they slip
between our fingertips
and fall like butterfly wings
to the ground.
we conduct the celestial engagement with
our metallic hearts
that control this unsteady rhythm of
and staccato love-making.
like conductors in an orchestra.
our lives write the love songs.
How to Sleep and Never Wake UpThe year they discovered my best friend, twenty years old and silent under the heap of her wrecked car, I learned one can sleep forever and never wake up.How to Sleep and Never Wake Up3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
That year, her sister, only seventeen, ate magic mushrooms and lost her mind and her brother, fourteen, started running and stopped eating and I didn't eat magic mushrooms but lost my mind anyway as everyone watched my skin, too white to be real, disintegrate before their eyes.
That year I flew to Colorado to see an urn surrounded by pointe shoes. It reminded me more of a wastebasket than the last I would see of the girl who shared my soul. Her sister ran naked through the street a few days later after ingesting a certain fungus at her school's homecoming dance. Most say it was the drugs. Maybe, I said. But I knew exactly what it was. Her brother started walking with his feet turned out, a remnant of his ballerina sister instilled in him. I ripped the flesh from my arms, hoping to find her somewhere underneath my fingernails until a