YouStillFancyDigitalClocks.I'm a broken clock, I never keep the right time! My owner should get me reconstructed. No, wait I am your clock that you bought from a messed up Horologist. But you said it yourself, you're bad with clocks, and I'm bad with guys.
I'm not a fucking brand new "shiny" digital clock that you-just-glance-at , I'm an antique, I grow on you. My rosier carved spine, gold framed hips, and wine-stained wooden lips. Are to bland for you I guess... I understand we live in a world of plastic, but I promise, if you spend a little time actually looking at my blacksmith-made, faded hands and aged Oak numbers. You would prefer my ivory face than a cheap... somethingthatcouldbeusedasafuckingtoiletcleaner.
The pain you give me is like a pounding, clanking, bell it runs all through my body. It's intruding actually, crashing in my head and making me all wobbly and such. I want my shitty unlevled pendulum-heart; the thing you keep playing with, and keep getting finger prints on by the way. Replaced maybe th
Fluorescent Lights.Here I am.Fluorescent Lights.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Muttering broken french between my paper dry lips.
Halfheartedly fixing the ruffles in my pink-lace skirt, I got my hair all curled up pretty and put on some daisy & cherry blossom perfume.
Here I am.
I'm about to tell you the "Good morning!" i've been planing all night,
Right down to the tone of my crush dipped voice and my open-for-conversation-smile.
Here I am.
you passed right by.
Here I am.
Messing with the hem of my skirt again, distracting myself from that slight mistake.
I've decided to put a piece of rose scented gum in my mouth to compose myself.
Here I am.
I'm fine now.
I have a plan b, I get out my black-fine tipped sharpie.
And write "Good Morning! (:" on a note card.
Here I am.
I called out ,you looked my way.
Shyly, I raised the note and smiled.
Before you could react, she walked in.
Here I still am.
She's walking with the confidence of a lion.
She's taking your eyes, your attention, & my moment.
Shattered GlassShattered GlassShattered Glass6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Matt laid on the bed that he and Mello had shared only hours before. It smelled slightly of sweat and sex and the chocolaty aroma that was undeniably Mello. He buried his nose in a pillow, the one that held the scent of sweet shampoo rather than his spicy one. A raking sob escaped from his lips, tears leaking from his eyes and covering his goggles with a misty screen. Shakily, he reached up and lifted the goggles away, throwing them blindly across the room, relishing in the smack! that sounded as they flew into the wall.
With nothing to stop them, his tears flowed freely, dampening the pillow. Each sob that managed to fight its way out was trapped, getting muffled in the fabric. They could still be heard but he had less of a chance of people knocking on the door worriedly.
Even so, a knock sounded, but Matt didn't have the strength to do anything about it. He merely laid there, crying loudly into his lover's scent.
After a few moments of light tapping
Doll HouseThe ceiling is a kaleidoscope of fresh pink roses, and shimmering pearls.Doll House4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every room has floors that are made of the smoothest daisy colored marble;
you can slide as fast as your little feet will let you.
But, make sure you leave every once in a while, just because you feel at peace,
doesn't mean time has stopped.
The walls are plastered with motivational posters & words that'll keep you from falling.
Victorian plush chair's that give you much needed hugs &
beds that will never fail to warm you up.
But, make sure you leave every once in a while, keeping to your self will, eventually, make everyone sail away from you.
Lush purple freesias lightly fill the air, their sweet floral fragrance making you dizzy with happiness.
But, please, make sure you leave every once in a while,
& don't look up at the hypnotic ceiling on your way out.
The doll house that was designed for your protection could also be your worst enemy.
You won't know how lost you are, till it hits you so hard that everythin
even now it stays the sameHer eyes tightened and she pulled her hand away, put it in her lap. Their conversation died.even now it stays the same4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Did I say something?"
"No no, it wasn't you. God. I'm sorry, I just stuff like that just sorry."
"No, it's not your fault," he murmured. "What did I say?"
"Nothing. It's okay."
She very carefully drew her hair back from her face and wrapped it in a rubber band.
"Have you ever met a person who wasn't what they said they were?" She asked.
"All the time."
"Usually," she said softly, "I wait a while. Actually, I usually never tell anyone this."
She stopped and looked away, stared at the ground. "My sister ran a cosmetic surgery clinic in Baltimore City. She was excellent. She knew how to make anyone look like anything so when it happened I me and some others- people who knew her or had money- we went to her. And we begged for help. Because we knew that, even if we believed that it didn't really matter, that things really would be equal, we would never be
How to be a True Fan1. Merch Does the object of your obsession have merchandise? Yes? Good. Make it your job to own every available piece of it. If you don't own every piece of available merchandise, you aren't complete. In fact, you won't have a functioning life because there will be a large gaping hole in your chest where that missing merchandise should be. The hole will be so mind-rendingly large that your mother, your best friend, your car, your dog, not even your smoking hot girlfriend will be able to fill. Also, the hole and stinking lumps of meat that surround it will be gradually eaten by the nastiest of flies until you do find something to plug it up with.How to be a True Fan4 years ago in Editorial More Like This
And cement will not work.
Make it your job to become a next-gen treasure hunter and send yourself on a never-ending quest to acquire all existing bits of said merchandise to plug that hole before the fly eggs do. Yes, even the Japan-release only ones.
2. In the Beginning A true fan must also have been alive wh
we are our favorite authorsi know i've lost you for a while. though i can still find you in the pages of your book suggestions,we are our favorite authors4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
words you told me had changed you, set you free, trapped you forever. made you breathe in and out,
count your breaths like ants crawling between your sheets at half past three am. i just want you to know
that caring is still a verb, and love is just a butchered adjective, verb, noun, a part of speech if you will.
and i refuse to let it engulf me. take me out behind the back porch and slay my insides daily. if i wake up in
the hospital tomorrow, remind them to tie my tongue to the roof of my mouth because i can't speak these words anymore without crying. tell my mother to set my room on fire, please oh please just promise me you will stay to watch it burn. just one more hour, just one more minute, just one more second. just watch the final embers burn, die out, and please whatever you do,
don't do it because of me.
Low Tides"If I knew the words to say, believe me I'd have already said them.Low Tides3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
If I knew a way to make it better, I wouldn't just sit here and ask if you were okay.
If I knew how to show you how much I cared, maybe you'd smile for me again.
If I knew how to tell you to keep your chin up, maybe it wouldn't rain.
If I knew how to make the world stop crashing down around you, maybe then I could hold the sky up."
© Dera - AkatsukixWannaxBe
Please do not post my work anywhere else with out my permission which includes quoting. Honor the time, effort, and thought an artist put into their work before you post in anywhere else. Thanks.
One Sided Love IIIt's not good to bottle up heartache,One Sided Love II4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it leaks from your lips and travels like
shock waves down to your wrist.
So crack open your ribs,
let it pour down your back,
and wear it like a badge of honor.
One day, darling.One day you will have a key.One day, darling.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And another, and another.
Keys hold responsibility,
And that's an adult's job.
One day you'll grow a rose.
And you'll give it to a girl.
Roses are for love.
And that's an adult's job.
One day you'll drink some soda
And it will rot your teeth.
Fake teeth are for the elderly.
And that's an adult's name.
One day you'll take a jump.
And it will shatter your bones.
Osteoporosis is for the sick.
And that's an adult's job.
But you are just a child.
And you don't give a damn.
butane promisesi use to be such a scared little boy,butane promises4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
always running from nothing,
and screaming for everything,
and laughing and crying.
but now i am numb, sealed at the soul,
tapered at the seams, i no longer
have a pulse in rhythm or a hair in line,
i run circles around ant piles and lakes and large streams,
i want to feel alive for more than five seconds and it almost feels nice for once, but
it never satisfies what i lost, what was taken from me, what i never had.
for the last time, i am not going to count
or whisper, or scream out loud.
if i am going to die, it may as well be
silence, passion screeching against the upstairs wall,
i repeat my name over and over and over,
and maybe if i etch the letters into my skin,
maybe finding my emotions won't be as
hard as i thought it would be.
the reason i stole black pens was
to trace the lines that crack my hand
and spread the cuticles and break the cells,
creating maps of multi-continent story telling
nothings, maybe i will find a forest filled with
can i stop answering questionswhen i am having anxiety attacks at three am, i enjoy the ghosts floating under my skin, giving me that quick rush of cold air needed to slow down my heart and speed up my mind. i'm teaching them to twist their transparent limbs between the two sides of my brain, maybe if i cut off their communication i can stop running my life in circles and my emotions can stop doing back flips off my aorta and landing mid center between two lungs not quite ready to handle a boy not quite ready to handle himself.can i stop answering questions4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
so you enjoy quizzing me about my own body. how many ribs line my left side, have i recently counted the veins spread eagle across my forearms, but what if i were to tell you i found a hobby, and that hobby found a hobby, and i am sure many more hobbies after that. what if my hobby was counting how many ways my body can slowly die, and its hobby was practicing this art at least three times a day and what if that hobby had so many more hobbies that were divulged so deep within my skin that i
i'll refrain from confessionsi've grown fond of beingi'll refrain from confessions4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a three ring circus,
prancing around in
i took no part in
let's trade names,
wring someone else's
neck for once.
i've learned to
and all i am is one
down hill spiral
of a verb.
this is like
cindy lou who,
gives a fuck,
i've taught everyone
how to act like
it was so easy
92. RapeThe night descends92. Rape5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as you walk into the room.
Its obvious that you are.
Watching me from
your stake-out point,
Your eyes are cold and.
I move in my seat
to get out of your view.
Youre making me feel.
I drank my tequila
And it was sweet and pleasant.
But what was next was so.
I woke in your arms.
You said not to cry.
The tone in your voice was.
Im left with these scars
inside and out, all over.
And now Im just as.
alienatecan we fight with wordsalienate4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
or are we simply going to
kill ourselves trying
deliverance does not come,as does the bell-boy from his duties,deliverance does not come,4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rough-boned burly man from his cell.
with the calendar days deemed ignorant,
the time-clocks cloak themselves. from what?
natural disasters are nothing, nothing I say,
compared to cold metal making nests
within a womb. and men, are wild -
run rampant through the night,
start fights, take heaven to tired veins and
in blind glory, ignite.
radioactive nucleicrowning myself the king of epidermis is a blasphemous path only i would take on, smiling wider than the equator, i'm rimming off villages and pillaging cities, i want to gather more emotion, such a crusade can only end in misery and emulated breathing and off set whispers playing pinball between my radio socket of a brain.radioactive nuclei4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
when the sun claimed the day and the moon claimed the night, do you think it was war? do you think they ripped out their tracheas and served their spleens for a sunday feast? or wait, is my definition of war formed around subordinate messages that my heart is sending my brain and earthquakes of my cuticles are splitting the fibers thin and wide, parasites are slithering their way between nuclei and cellular respiration is just fancy terminology for the energy i'm burning away on breathing.
tendons pulled from my fibula are being used as rubber bands and machine guns and maybe even to hang my swing from the bedroom window. a writer is a no good son of a bitch, abusin
asteroid catacombsit's late at nightasteroid catacombs4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i am saying incoherent things,
my brain has stopped speaking to my heart
and my heart has stopped speaking to my brain and they
are functioning in catacomb like structures of emotions not
quite ready to handle two people not quite ready to handle
feelings not quite able to handle themselves.
my love for you is as vast as the universe, convoluted
beautiful meteor showers are rimming the corners of your
tear ducts, i am catching the haze of the milky way in your
pupils, from your lips pour asteroids, shooting stars and
creations ready to burst my insides and split my spine.
i'm a boy so lost in everything that i am stuck at the dead end
of nothing, but without nothing there wouldn't be a
something or anyone or anything at all.
i'm lapping at the shore of your inclinations, swarming at
the sign of beauty and romance and romeo and juliet may
be famous but here we go, writing our own fucking play,
this isn't meant to end in death, death of the word love
perhaps, we ar
next timeyou told me you were doing me a favor,next time4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you never told me you were stripping me
of my emotional rights, butchering the word
love between my two front teeth, and can you
please remember for at least five seconds
that i am just some silly boy stuck in his
own world, far, far from reality. and as
delusional as it may sound, fucking with his mind
isn't an art, and we may be art kids but
i know where to draw the line between
pure art, and simply dying.
if it isn't how i imagined it,
then what control do i have anymore?
i want to be able to rip the seams of my
own shirt, wash my hands a hundred times
over if need be, now can you please stop
being my mother, start being my friend,
and cease being my lover.
if adam and eve can fuck over the human race
and have a book written about them, then
why the hell can i not fuck you over,
tell you to leave, kick you out the back door,
i know i am harsh, but i am too scared
not to be.
so next time, allow me to
strip away my own skin,
singe off my own ment