He was Only HumanHe was only humanHe was Only Human5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I watched through the muddy haze of rain as man fell to his knees, his breath misting the air in whips of white fog.
Even heroes could drown, they could be cut, and they could bleed.
But he was so much more than just a hero, perhaps he had forgotten how truly fragile life was. How fragile WE were, all of us, no matter how long we had survived. One day our time would run out, and we had to pay the fiddler.
When we die, what happens to the ones left behind? How do they cope?
We had come so far, how could it end like this?
From the day I had met him, the day he had saved me; my life had been about him. He could not be cut, though many had tried, and it was impossible for him to lose. Brave, strong men followed him. Brave men died.
He lived, no one could say how, he just did.
Was his invincibility a gift? He often saw it as a curse. I took it for granted, and after a time, I saw him begin to as well. When you cannot die, life loses most of its worth. A man who walks into
Sonnet IShe lives in the spaces between our breathsSonnet I5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
though we have never met for I am not
among the whispered words and kinder deaths.
Trap elegance beyond the realm of font,
a stricken raindrop I fell through gray soot
overflown with truth from an empty mouth.
Memories, childhood trod underfoot
Comfort me, sanctuaries still not found
Stone shattered teeth pray dance my broken legs
we dream through polluted skies far from eyes;
diluted lives construct beauty from dregs
So scar love in every city sunrise
and paint these lips the rose of blood blushed cheeks
smolder under skin, passion, never sleep.
your tears don't save a soul.[it took him 129 days to finally stop breathing without you there.]your tears don't save a soul.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on day 32, he bought flowers and slid them into a thin vase
on the windowsill. a petal fell off and floated to a silent rest
on the water's surface, and a single ripple weakly faded away.
he threw the flowers out that night.
on day 58, he woke from a nightmare, clawed at the pillow
your picture was on, and his fingernail snagged on the paper.
he gazed wantonly for a minute at the ragged shreds, then
promptly turned on his side and shut his eyes.
the torn-up paper drifted off into the cracks between the floors.
on day 99, he thought you came back, and he cried out in joy,
only to watch as the tears washed away the blurred image of you.
he clutched at the wadded up napkins in his hand, and teardrops
fell, blending into the many there before them.
he saw you again that night, and wished himself to wake up.
[on day 129, he lay six-and-a-half feet under the ground,
white daises scattered daintily around the freshly mounted
.Magnetic.//.Magnetic.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I watched you demagnetize,
the plastered on phrases of your affections slipped and slid;
down the bumpy linoleum,
I wasn't strong enough to hold your hopes up,
You arranged bright plastic letters with the haphazard care of a kindergartner learning her words,
a cascading waterfall of plastics and charged solenoid,
came to rest on leftover cheerios and forgotten noodles
Your refrigerator words were crowding my airways,
I feel like I am not enough for your unspoken needs.
I watched you drift,
farther... than I felt comfortable with.
and threatening to see the light of reality,
issuing from my lips with the cadence of thousands of ants,
I wanted to invite my sanity to join
I left it out in the cold
I cannot help but question your reality.
I find it passe and trite, that alcohol, cigarettes and the fake attentions of men can leave you so breathless.
I grew tired of trying to woo some semblance of your affections from my cellphone,
its 2 a.m. and I can hardly think about you without
Girl on the BusThe girl on the busGirl on the Bus5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
smiles like the first day of school
and I can't keep my eyes
off her hands
tucked in her lap
(maybe she is clutching winter).
I like her perfume,
how her hair
strikes up conversations
and that tiptoe wink
she balances on one finger
as I watch the world
on thin wheels.
Maybe she will love me
or let me bring her flowers,
trembling from a stranger's yard -
fragile as the road,
and dangle my heart
between her knees
and eat my poems
like a summer lunch.
AcidI stopped writing when I turned 20Acid5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
degrees Celsius, and the acid
evaporated from my veins.
No more stormy seas or dreams that
I can feel the erythrocytes crashing
against my eyelids and fistsnow
My heartbeat is like the hollow
canals of Venice drowning in air,
drains overflowing into drains,
Like abandoned gardens hanging
between bricked up dreams, built
six stories higher than I would ever need.
The Hard Work of PoetryPoets are constantly crippled, creatively. It's the way it works. You write a line and, just now, right now, it seems like it's the best line in the world to date. It's a shiny, beautiful line, a thought, an image so remarkably profound that you are in awe of yourself, or (if you are a seasoned poet) in awe of that angelic being which sits on high in your mind and occasionally drops little scraps of poetic manna into your head. Now, you only need to write a poem around it.The Hard Work of Poetry5 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Because the poem takes over, sprouts a million legs and scurries in directions you had no real intention of it going and now the Wondrous Line of Glory and Poetic Win doesn't fit. You have to either change it or take it out and save it for another poem. Or make it a haiku-like short poem on its own, so all those other words don't assault it again. If you're an experienced poet, you'll probably just store it in a .txt file or on a post-it note somewhere and lament it until you're old and nothing matte
LoveBoyo I ever cross your mindLove6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
boy: Do you like me?
girl: Not really
boy: Do you want me?
boy: Would you cry if I left?
boy: Would you live for me?
boy: Would you do anything for me?
boy: Choose--me or ur life
girl: my life
The boy walks away in shock and pain and the girl runs after him and says...
The reason you never cross my mind is because you're always on my mind.
The reason why I don't like you is because I love you.
The reason I don't want you is because I need you.
The reason I wouldn't cry if you left is because I would die if you left.
The reason I wouldn't live for you is because I would die for you.
The reason why I'm not willing to do you anything for you is because I would do everything for you.
JALEXHAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX GASKARTH!!!JALEX4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Alex sat in the back lounge with his head buried in his new favorite book Stephen king- bag of bones. The guys where somewhere, he made it perfectly clear that he wanted to be alone on his 24th birthday; he just wanted the peace and quiet atmosphere he always missed. Though he found that he was growing slightly bored. He closed his beloved book, let his eyes adjust to the light and cracked his stiff neck. He took a look around at all the plates that were sitting around him, sighing he got up scooping up the dirty placing them in the almost overflowing trash can. He tossed his book in his bunk as he passed it, making sure to close his curtain. When he made it to the front of the slightly large bus he was surprised to find jack sitting on the small couch with his head hanging, holding something in his large hands. Alex just stood there studying jack, clearly he didn't notice Alex's presents. After a couple of minutes jack sighed rubbing h
Frerard Story Chapter 1Frerard Story Chapter 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Gerard! Come back! It's not fair!" I shouted at my best friend who had run off with MY Skittles. Seriously, what kind of a sick, twisted bastard does that?!?
"It's not my fault you're a short arse!" he yelled back. Right that's it. I sprinted towards him as fast as I could. No one calls Frank Anthony Thomas Iero Junior a short arse and gets away with it.
"That's it motherfucker!" I said diving at him. Before he had time to react I had rolled him over so he was facing me and pinned him down by his wrists.
"Gerard" I said calmly, a devilish grin on my lips.
"Yes?" he questioned the fear clear in his eyes. I smiled even more. Good. This motherfucker was gonna pay.
"Are you gonna give me my Skittles back, or am I gonna have to force you?" I hoped he would give them me back; I didn't have a plan if he wouldn't. A familiar smile spread across his lips. It worried me a little. Gerard only smiled like that when he had a very good idea which usually involved him winning.
snowstorms and polar tragedieswe are opposite ends of love's magnet:snowstorms and polar tragedies5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
repulsing to opposite ends of the map.
west, east, west, east, westwestwest.
if i wasn't lacking force,
i'd settle for the space
between your west hip
and east hip. but both
the coasts are flooding
from my eye's blizzards
(the weatherman says
it should last all week,
but i know he's lying.
my psychic predicted
three more decades)
Side A, Side B;
just friction in
its cruelest form.
You1 pushes me to
You2 pushes me to
if only physics were more charismatic...
A lesson in electromagnetism:
if one side is negative, the other is positive
A lesson in mathematics:
negative one plus positive one equals zero
A lesson in meteorology:
thirty degrees is not measured with calendars
but you do not teach me anything
applicable to reality, because with
you, who needs textbook real life.
A lesson in geography:
six hundred miles is not the same as six hundred miles
A lesson in geometry:
Sion Astal x ReaderSion Astal x Reader10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
You had been working in the Roland Castle for quit some time now. You used to be a famous thief. You used a rare type of shadow magic which allowed you to easily hide within the shadows.
One day your arrogance got the better of you and once nightfall hit you decided to sneak into the Roland Castle. Unfortunately you made a mistake and were caught. Lucky for you, Sion let you off easy. All you had to do was agree to work for him. You became his body guard. Always hiding in the shadows watching over him.
That's how you ended up where you are today. Quietly reappearing from the shadows, you smiled down at your beloved king as he slept peacefully. Sion had fallen asleep at his desk again. You sighed and put your hand on his left shoulder from behind. You shook him gently and leaned your face closer to his and whispered. "Hey Sion, wake up." He groaned and buried his head deeper into his arms.
You shook him again. "Get up, Sion. You don't want to turn into Ryner do you?" At the mention of h
Summer's WingsWe dance in the blazing daylightSummer's Wings5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to the songs of the birds and trees,
we'd laugh and sing and cherish
every moment that we seize.
Our tired backs upon the ground,
and our faces to the sky,
arms around each other's necks
We watch the sunlight die.
We take the broken pieces of
the shattered morning sun,
to brighten up our blackest nights
once the darkness had begun.
To bring the fragments all together,
to watch its golden glow,
this feeling lives forever more,
come sun, moon, rain or snow.
We pick our way about the patterns
woven round the moon.
Claiming constellations when
the day was lost so soon.
All good things don't come to an end,
and for us our lights don't fade.
We'll sail upon this future path
until our day is made.
That fateful morn, our time will end,
laid in the field as one.
Hand in hand we'll bring together,
those pieces of the sun.
I'll never forget our field that day,
the sky a vivid blue.
And forever a kiss upon the air,
will whisper 'I love you.'
Monte CristoI had dinner with my dead father last night—Monte Cristo9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A grand feast of sins, lies, and cranberry sauce—
And he asked me if I knew
How to properly falsify a life.
So I lifted the mask from my face in reply,
And he said next time I saw him in the mirror,
He wanted me in full costume.
When I closed my eyes and the glass was blank,
I headed for the magnificent ball,
Where I danced with queens and witches alike
And maybe a prostitute or two
And carried on a conversation with a jester
Over how much gold was in my back pocket.
It was decided on a fool's fortune,
And my greed had never felt more starved.
Before going to bed, I drank deeply
From the fountain of youth in my backyard,
Watching my hair turn silver in the water.
And my father dropped by
To read these words in my eyes
And hand me a blindfold with unraveling edges.
I tossed the weight on my shoulders upon him
To send his façade crumbling down,
But the shockwaves were not enough to shatter my own.
So I resigned myself to slumber
And fought the
WonderlandRun from the monsters I create,Wonderland9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Indulge me with your childish fear;
Come to my wonderland you're late
I cannot leave if you aren't here.
In wonderland the sane are tortured,
With objects incomprehensible to the mind.
They run around until demented,
Come to me and be defined.
You are my chess piece in this game:
I'll move you with my puppets strings,
I'm the master; I'm insane;
You- my mindless wonderings.
In my wonderland there is no death;
You never really are alive.
You beg to me, I ask myself,
He kindly grants you suicide.
00Q - Happy Anniversary LoveA hand brushes my hip and I automatically shift away, focusing on verbally abusing the moron that decided to sleep on stake out and jeopardise the entire seven agent mission. Another touch on my hip, this time accompanied by breath dancing across the back of my neck; I shrug them off, annoyed, and concentrate on my screens.00Q - Happy Anniversary Love2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Shoo." Soft laughter from behind me and a light kiss is pressed to the back of my neck. "Go away James." I pause as what I just said hits me. "James..?" I turn to see my partner, battered and bruised, but very much alive and more importantly here.
With a quick gesture for R to take over my coms, I suppose nothing really needs my attention, I grab James' (very expensive) jacket and half drag him towards my office.
The moment the door closes behind us I'm pressed against it, dark wood smooth against my back as James buries his face in my neck, arms wrapping round my waist.
"I wasn't expecting you back for another few days." He mumbles something unintelligible against
The Unicorn - FrerardThe unicorn:The Unicorn - Frerard4 years ago in Romance More Like This
I woke up to my 8-year-old little brother Mikey running into my room.
"Gerardiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!" he shouted as he jumped up in my bed and started shaking me. "I hurt my thumbieeee!!!!!" he then whined and I sighed.
"Mikey seriously. What time is it?" I asked as I rubbed my eyes.
"seven p.m" he said.
"WHAT!?!?!!?" I quickly got out of my bed and looked at the watch. "Mikey you really need to learn the difference between p.m and a.m." I said as I saw it was seven in the morning. "Now get out."
"But I want breakfast!" he then whined.
"Ask mom to make you some." I said as I went into the bathroom.
"She left for work an hour ago!" he said. I sighed and turned to face him. He made puppy eyes. Crap. I can't resist thoose eyes and he knows it. I went into the kitchen and poured him a bowl of cereal.
"There. Now leave me alone." I said and went back down to my basement room. I put on some black skinny jeans and a black shirt. I went into my bathroo
I'm Okay, Trust Me- FrerardThey walked towards me in their usual gang, grinning viciously and ready to beat me. I'd figured running only made it worse- when they finally caught up it hurt even more. The crowd of jocks towered over the hallway; ugly, tough and spotty faces looking for trouble. Just before they saw me, my eyes fell onto their 'leader', the one they all looked up to- or rather down to. Frank was a lot smaller than the rest and he looked different- his body was already littered with tattoos and a few piercings, one on his lip, one on his nose and his ears. He could get away with those as a sign of being tough somehow without anyone losing respect, even if he had overgrown brown hair that nearly covered his sparkling hazel eyes. All the girls in the school seemed to have a crush on him. So did I. I wish I didn't- I so wish I didn't- but everything about him is so stunning. That adorable giggle, the abs and muscles he supported on his small figure, the toughness but sweetness all at the same time... hI'm Okay, Trust Me- Frerard4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Written LoveItalic represents the inner depths of our emotions, an endless well of truth. Within lies the rawest image of the self, the naked reality of vulnerability, doubt and discovery.Written Love6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Will I ever find love? Am I destined to be alone forever?
It also depicts instant sparks of thought, blurted words mute to the world.
Shes cute! I wonder if she could ever like someone like me. Did she just smile back at me? Was she being polite, or ?
Bold equals bravery, chance and gamble; the lion heart in which shaky words express daring suggestions, challenging the fate of solitude.
Want to go for a coffee sometime?
Can I call you again?
Bold lettering calls for faith, hope and trust. Self esteem brings it out, jumping from the white of paper, but even the timid can brave life with its encouraging energy.
Underline is exclamation. It is the reaction to news, the call of passion or the declaration of triumph. It can be coupled with t
imprison my soul in a nuthouseScene I: Enter Apathy Asylum:imprison my soul in a nuthouse5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"What are you in for, this time?"
This is Joe, one of the regulars.
"Just the usual... my forbidden
fantasies. According to them."
Romance is a disease, after all.
Long distance is a side effect.
(and i've got all the symptoms
of a parakeet in handcuffs)
blame politics we're
in the wrong Cage
in a separate country,
a separate chamber,
a separate cellblock
cooing to canaries,
but being intercepted
by callous crows.
the guards remind you
the featherless can't fly,
and you're too broke to
afford a trip to Canada.
i'd fly northeast for the Summer
to spend a night in your ribCage
(such a perfect fit we would be)
i'd ride on your back, caressing
your wings; change your name
to Pegasus, and pretend you're
by my side instead of inside my
mind. but there i go again, and
"daydreaming is impolite. you
need ten more weeks in solitary
(this is what they call Emergency Treatmen
we became an atlantic tragedy.we first met april 14, 1912.we became an atlantic tragedy.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the ocean smelt beautiful.
the crashing waves mimicked
your hips crashing into mine;
mimicked you crashing the
party in my mind; this boat
crashing against the tide's
bone structure. wet. salty.
that could be spotted two
nautical miles away. it was
my first time, your first time;
innocence's maiden voyage.
in case you forgot,
your clothes sank
to the floor;
your body sank
my heart sank
too much crashing.
too much sinking.
too much motion.
i swear one of us
would get seasick.
i cruised my hand
across your hair--
it was 49 minutes
"make a wish." you said.
"but it already came true.
what else could i want."
then it happened. you know
damn well what fucking "IT"
means. "IT" is your eyes in
love yet your skin is in lust.
"IT" is the second and third
letter of the TITANIC. "IT" is
a fucking iceberg in my chest.
Hit the RoadLife is a road trip. We all start off somewhere with our own vehicle. Maybe it's an expensive car, one of those recent models that are all the rage lately. Maybe it's an affordable one: cost-efficient and doesn't take much maintenance. Anyway, everyone starts off in a different car. Can't forget other people though--they're the ones driving at first. You're just a passenger. You'll take up the wheel eventually (or, you know, not).Hit the Road6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
So, off you go. But wait--aren't you forgetting something? Like, maybe, where you're going? Eh. It might not really matter. Some people have a definite place they want to go. Others don't. It's up to you whether or not the destination matters. Some people just take the trip for fun. Those people usually go slow just to enjoy the trip. Those who go fast just want to get wherever they're going. They should be careful in places with lots of people though; the roads might be congested. Maybe it's rush hour?
You'll be going on a lot of road stops. Gotta take care
Games - FRERARDFandom: My Chemical RomanceGames - FRERARD3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Point of View: Gerard
"So, whatcha wanna do?"
I look to my boyfriend, one Frank Anthony Iero, and smile to myself as he gazes at me with those pretty eyes of his. Like the eyes of a puppy waiting to be taken for a walk on the beach, constantly full of energy and waiting for me to give him a belly-rub. Yep, just like a cute little puppy. My cute little puppy.
"Dunno, Gee." He replies, his earlier three cans of Coca-Cola evident in the buzzing tone to his voice. "We could play a game?"
The way that he's smirking makes it perfectly clear to me that that is exactly what we are doing. It's the smirk that he always gives me when he has what he deems as a great idea ticking away in his head like a time-bomb. His lips, those soft candyfloss curves, turn upright at one end, as though they're waiting for my consent to give them the lift that they need to turn into a full-on smile. Something that I could never deny my Frankie; he's too fucking c