Telling StoriesI got my first tattoo when I was seventeen. I remember going into the shop with my mom and nervously telling the tattoo artist what I wanted. My mom couldn't understand why I wanted a tribal symbol, but I loved what it represented: strength and passion. I told him I wanted it on my left shoulder-blade and he just told me to take that arm out of my shirt and started to dab my skin with alcohol.Telling Stories6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
At first, it hurt like a bitch. But the pain soon lessened, and after a while I couldn't feel a thing. A half hour later, the tribal symbol was complete. The artist handed me a mirror so I could see it. It was amazing. I grinned and nodded my head, letting him know he did a great job. It was at that moment, I knew I was addicted.
Now it was three years later, and I'd accumulated six more tattoos. Most were small, except for one that took a chunk out of the small of my back. I was now heading into the shop for my eighth. I opened the door and stepped inside. Rock music play
i can't give you tomorrowi likei can't give you tomorrow5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i like
and i like
and i like
and i like
and i like
and i like
and your fingerless
of these beautiful things
do i love
When I ListenI've never once hated snoring--When I Listen5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or found the experience to be annoying
since the one I shared the room with
has always been with someone I liked sharing a room with
and the sound made by their breathing
was comforting to wake up to in the middle of a night,
especially after a bad dream.
Ricochet of bullets and the trumpets of war
become a lover's caress and a sound I adore,
a simple huff of air blows away the most frightening storms
and I snuggle up closer with my head on his chest,
eased by the fact he is well and alive
and still by my side.
The silence is what destroys me.
The distant ticking of a clock that I did not know we have,
passing the moments closer to an alarm,
passing the minutes closer to an end,
keeping time to the thoughts that keep buzzing in my head,
possibly the most nerve-wracking feeling of all,
just wanting to sleep and knowing you can't.
Then it's the chorus of the frogs croaking in summer,
the sound of the wind, dancing out in the snow,
the rustling of leaves al
I WantI WantI Want5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to be the first thing
when you wake up
in the morning,
and the last thing
before you close
that you smile at
in your eyes;
you reach for
when we're walking
down the street.
to be the girl
with a smile
on your mouth.
The one who's arms
you want around you
at the end
of a hard day.
to be yours.
Silver Heart ChainGive me your heart, he whispered in my earSilver Heart Chain7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I looked at him curiously. My head tilted to the side
Not exactly understanding what it was he was demanding.
You already have it, silly. I kissed him softly
But he did not seem to believe me and shook his head.
I dont. I cant feel it. He pleaded. His eyes wide
Those blue eyes I can never deny
But I did not know what he meant as I placed my hand against his chest
Its in there. And yours is in here. Placing my own hand against my ch
Urban Bedtime StoryI fell in love once, on a cloud,Urban Bedtime Story5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
though in the East, they call it fog
and in the west, they call it smog,
but when you are in love, you call it anything really,
it doesn't matter much at all.
We ate food on a stick, not in a restaurant,
but in a park, by a lake, with trees and frogs,
singing of true nature and not being serenaded
by violins and bad singers, who pull at your sleeves
and try to get you to dance.
Minutes passed into hours, and hours turned into boats
that we paddled across the lake, arguing about how mustard
isn't appreciated as much as ketchup, though ketchup
goes better with everything, in my opinion, but it's not so much
the conversation-but the fact we could have such a conversation.
I knew then, I was in love.
You can tell when your heart starts racing,
like it's drumming feet against your chest, keeping time,
to a world full of music heard only in the mind, and
your palms get sweaty like it got 90 degrees outside.
I knew I was in love.
Yet sometimes we for
The NightThe NightThe Night5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My head aches
from tears that won't fall.
My fingers clench
hard on the wheel.
I hate that time of night
where everything seems
When it feels like I'll just break
into a million little pieces
if someone doesn't
wrap their arms around me
and hold me together.
If someone doesn't show me
I'm worth more
that a half-hearted wave,
or a lopsided smile
as every last person
passes me by
in favour of something prettier
to look at.
I hate the night.
The dark times
where old thoughts
of suicide and loneliness
glide to the surface
hand in hand - a disasterously well matched pair.
And there's nothing I can do
but ride it out
as I head for home,
fighting down thoughts of you,
along with the bile rising
in my throat
and the shaking threatening
to pry my hands
from the steering wheel.
daughter of doubtthere is a feeling in this air, this midnight air -daughter of doubt5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it caresses my face and opens my eyelids.
my knuckles ache from lack of attention
but my chest sparkles with pride,
for your face is a sight like the moon.
there is a halo of light
and you are a being. a human being.
our fingertips touch and our flesh gives way;
how is it you are so fascinating
when you are just a glimmer made from
the secrets i shout from the rooftops?
my mouth opens and my tongue is an unfinished song.
the emptiness inside me flows out past my teeth;
it tastes like choking on salt water.
i would not be surprised if it infected you.
it is a virus and i am its breeding ground -
my soft-spoken words making their way into souls
you are so very hard to believe in
you are so very hard to believe
because every word you utter
flower-eyes and windswept hairi was only a girl of nine, and you a boy of eleven.flower-eyes and windswept hair5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
we had tall a oak tree in our back yard. in the summer, it had green leaves and i would climb all the way to the top.
i would immerse myself in its tangled branches and watch you, over the back fence. every morning before school i would sit and watch you play.
sometimes i would be late, but i didn't really mind.
you would kick your soccer ball towards to windows, and your mother would scorn you from inside. sometimes i imagined you saw me.
sometimes i realised you couldn't.
i was only a girl of thirteen, and you a boy of fifteen.
in the summer i would sit outside under my oak tree and read. i was dressed in yellow summer dresses and my brown hair would fall messily below my shoulders. i could hear you and your friends next door. sometimes you kicked your soccer ball against my fence. i didnt really mind though.
once, your friend kicked your ball too high and it flew over your fence, landing in my garden.
you climbed the f
Wishesi wishWishes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i could sit with you
in the mornings
and you would play
stairway to heaven
on your guitar
and i would hum along
that we sat together in biology
i wouldn't have to look halfway across the room
to look at you
i could tell you
that white t-shirts
look really good on you
and you would smile
and say thanks
i could muster up
the courage to talk to you
and you would talk back
and wouldn't think of me
as the weird freshman girl
wishes came true
All I Can SayIt was one of those moments where your breath catches in your throat. You know the ones I mean, where there is just pure emotion in the air, and all you can do is let it carry you and try not to break down.All I Can Say6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
The weird thing is, I couldn't tell you what was going on. I will never be able to tell you who was there, if it was happy or sad or funny.
All I can say is it was perfect.