Coffee-Stained LetterDear Stranger,Coffee-Stained Letter4 years ago in Letters More Like This
You don't know me. And I don't know you. Maybe it's better that way. But then again, maybe we would be happier if we did know each other.
Right now, I'm sitting at my desk, with the sunlight streaming in the window, writing this letter for you. Hopefully I'll finish it by tonight, so that tomorrow I can take it to the coffee shop on the corner and drop it on the floor, or in your lap, or maybe in the lap of the person next to you so they can give it to you...because they don't seem like the type to read it, so they'll obviously just pass it on.
I like music - except terrible rap. And I love the written word more than most, it baffles some of my friends sometimes. I wonder, do you like to read? I have the tiniest tattoo I've ever seen, it's a tiny fairy on my ankle, but you can't see her unless you're looking for her and know where to look...like a real fairy, they're good at hiding too you know. I saw a fairy once. She was hiding behind the strawberries in my garden. I t
Ink-Scarred FingertipsYour tears are beautiful; licking your cheeks like little shards of lightbulb glass as you claw at your face with ink-scarred fingertips. Grimace like the behind-the-scenes of a sleepy lullaby as tiny rubies caress the hollows in your face.Ink-Scarred Fingertips5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The dawn is coming dearest, and the glittering halo reflecting off the sapphire and turquoise in the bay will turn the gemstones dripping from your jawline to Pegasi, and he'll scoop you up and take you up above the nightmares and sorrow where they can't reach your trailing dreams.
Ribbons flow behind you as rivulets fall from your hazy breath, drizzling sugar across the sweet-stained clouds. Little crystals of amethyst and diamond, nestling in the down of the cushions of the heavens.
The tiniest of droplets whets your appetite for rain so that you can dance in a spider-woven ballgown when your dearest darling envelops you in arms formed of cloud-dust and love's breath.
Little words of love flow from between your thinly-boned fingers fluttering acro
Copper and Umber Rice-PaperYou're hiding in plain sight on your little island of blown-away copper and umber rice-paper.Copper and Umber Rice-Paper5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
That's the sound of your overhanging branches drooping
Apple's BreathI want to sing to the starsApple's Breath5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
To brush your lips with hazy breath
Quickening as it mingles
Mingles with your too-sweet breath
There are diamonds in the sky, and they say that diamonds are a girl's best friend. They don't know the meaning of friendship. You once told me that your best friend was a Harlequin Great Dane named Cookies and Cream - but Cookie for short - who was graceful as he was huge, huge as he was kind, and kind as our love was strong. You blushed when you said that.
I wondered why you said that, when the scent of fallen apples hung in the air, staining it and tainting it a sweet shade of honeysuckle red; and the sky was a pale baby blue fading into violet and red. Your skin was ivory, and I thought of the milky white that Cookie's fur was sure to be; you would surely mold into one another with shared embraces on a soft warm hearth.
There was something dancing in your eyes at dusk that night, something purely other and different to your usual shyness.
Blood Angeli.Blood Angel5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I am a smattering of shattered bone fragments littered all around the floor. The never-white shards have ripped through flesh that now lies torn and tattered in the rough-hewn shape of a woman-child. I weep silent tears as I kneel beside what once was mine and hold my heart close to my chest.
I am standing in shell-shocked misery, the shrapnel of barely-white shards embedded in my dermis. They will leave scars. More scars. They will add to the train-tracks tracing an exquisite map across my parchment-skin. They will leave scars across my atria.
I am pacing the edges of the room, listening to the weeping of the dead and the pain-filled silence of those who remain. I will wait patiently for the collective pain to subside, for the weeping woman-child can never come with me unless they let her. Even in death, she need's a familial permission to leave with a lover, even her Spirit Love.
I am still weeping, but my tears have subsid
Grey SnowstormTiny melancholy dreams are slipping and sliding through the huge snowdrift settled just behind your eyes. There's a storm swirling into a blizzard in those grey eyes of yours. I'd love for the grey to turn to blue, so that I know there's a calm, but I'll worry that the storm has simply gone on hiatus and will return with a vengeance before the night is over.Grey Snowstorm5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Huge spirals of crystal and dust are rippling the surface as you spill iced nuances into white-hot wounds. They couldn't hurt much more if they were salty tears cascading in a torrent into the shallow waters below. I wish that you would read those cursive ink-marks trailed across the page you threw into the ground, though it might be tea-stained and blotchy with the memory of train-tracks that you wept as you read it aloud.
The sweetest of cadences echo through a kaleidoscope as you listen to the rainbow reverberating in the narrowly coloured lane, until your feet sink in to finely grained sand and you gaze at the foam stallions th
The Last Lily BurnedThere are petals littering the ash wood surrounding a solitary sheaf of paper that is riddled with the ashes and bullet holes from the silver sparks in the air around you. Your caramel arms are scarred with the burn marks of years gone by as you clutch at the last few lilies left in this once mysterious garden.The Last Lily Burned5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The maze that once held you safely, securely in its grasp now mourns the loss of your innocence and your slow discovery of the fire outside the leafy walls of your fortress.
The blackened scars tattooed across your skin all have names and word engraved in them, every one a tribute to those that whispered dreams in your ear and ran lit matches across your skin, tracing lace patterns ever less painfully through the scorches that moulded themselves to your flesh.
They drew you around them like a moth to flame until you didn't remember the scent of frangipani and jasmine that used to peer from behind soft evergreens and stubbly little branches drowned in mud.
You learned of fire but
Fear and StrengthAnd that greatest fear that doth reign in my heartFear and Strength6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
And of that great fear, that consumes my entire being; we spoke naught. Ill thought of were those that could not, would not see the strength of tears. Hot, salty tears that run in rivulets down your face. Do not cry, sweet one; there will be light yet.
As the dawn breaks. As the golden fire burns, raging across the horizon. As the sea foam gallops up the shore with the first crack of dawn, the first resounding crash of sea against sand, the first light and life in this, the first day of forever.
Feel the heat sear your skin. Turn your face towards the light. Bask in the warmth of a new day, and feel the time stretching out endlessly in front of you. See the opportunities rising out of the dark. Hear the words, the truth, the lies, whispered in your ears.
Now open your eyes, what do you see? What will you do? It's your life, see it through.
White Horses and Angels As in my dreams, I dancedWhite Horses and Angels5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with White Horses
We spun in circles and laughed around the morning bonfire that flickered on the horizon behind the horses, who postponed their daily battle-cry's for me. We frolicked in the sand and the still-bubbling froth at the earth's edge until the Dawn could await the pounding of hooves no longer.
White Horses stampeded
across the honey-stained
granules that buried my feet
I stood still facing just to the left of sunrise as my evergreen gown whipped around my knees and ankles. I watched them all thunder past me, feeling every whisper of "Until tomorrow, darling" that blew warmth across my sun-shaded eyelids. I felt the sweet-warm scent of Angels wrap around me as I was surrounded with their bell-laughs and concerned eyes.
Angels fluttered rose-hewn
fingertips across my cheeks,
wiping tears of joy from the apples
Lines Across FloorboardsThere are lines falling across the floorboards, rupturing glowing vessels and creating rips in the fabric covering the windows. Sometimes I wonder if you see at all, but then you look at me and I know you do. Because you see right through me, you see right through every single chink in my armour and I think I might break under your gaze.Lines Across Floorboards5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The curtains are pulled across ice that keeps the sun from this, our room. Maybe we should draw them but maybe we should draw ourselves a sun, moon and stars across the ceiling and walls. Because what is that brilliance emanating from the outside world, when you have love shining right in front of you?
Colour-Stained Ribbons..DreamsYou're peddling sorrow at your little colour-stained store. Different shades of every ribbon, different threads and fabrics. But the most ribbons you sell are always a shade of sorrow. Some of the ribbons are sopping wet, dripping tears and whispers.Colour-Stained Ribbons..Dreams5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
But some of the sorrow is bright and echoes with laughs of joy and shouts of anger. Memories, these ones, how some of the little people selling their souls carry their sadness. By filling their minds with tales of regret and what-if's, never once thinking I can do this.
Tiny feathers creep under your pillow at night, whispering sweet words across your lips, breathing stories into your dreams. Bright colours flash across your sleep-blackened eyelids, entrancing the visions haunting your nights, creeping into the stories you weave in the air in your colour-stained ribbon shop.
Run-Out-of-Time Lovevelveteen rubies, opalescent in shape, they fall from their setting as they wither and flake.Run-Out-of-Time Love5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
what dear, just roses,
not gleaming nor clear,
but precious my dear.
why love, they're like love,
prickly and soft love
thorned love and loved love
but love nonetheless
now love, here's my love
to keep to your heart
will i have your love?
dear sweet, my sweet sweet
sweet love on your sleeve
this love like a dream
is it bittersweet?
so love, where's my love
that love that was sworn
don't say it's been torn
so love, 'twas bad love
broken apart love
sad love, unloved love
choked love, death-blow love
you say you'll love me forever. but tell me, my sweet, what happens when forever runs out of time?
Alcoholic StarsI wanted to kiss the tears from your eyes, but you beat me to it by kissing me instead. It started raining and I couldn't tell the difference between your tears and sky tears anymore, but it didn't matter to either of us because our hair and clothes were clinging to our flesh, trying to evade the downpour [I still don't know which one] and tangling themselves together.Alcoholic Stars5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We lay in the grass together, watching the stars dance and stumble. I asked you why they were so dizzying and you told me it was because they were drunk, but you wouldn't tell me what they'd been drinking no matter how much I pleaded with you. Your price was a kiss but I could see the stars in your eyes, and I watched them dance some more, a little closer to home this time.
I tried to count the stars but you told me there were more than I could see and tried to count them for me. You lost count when I tickled you and gave up to steal a kiss but I turned my head away. I asked you what the stars had been drinking and you r
Shadows and MusicThe light filters through the leavesShadows and Music6 years ago in Other More Like This
Casting tortoiseshell shadows on the ground
Fire rests in the gutters of the eaves
And out of the front door pours a beautiful sound
In the candlelight, flickers dance across the walls
Laughter echoes round the house
Music echoes down the halls
And voices sound throughout the house
Chocolate RosesYou're singing under your breath as you twist spools of thread and weigh them down at one end. You're mashing up rose petals, not because you want their scent, but because you want their flavour. You're mixing rose-pulp with dark chocolate and pouring half of it into your melted wax and half of it into molds, which you leave to cool so you can stave off the hunger with them later.Chocolate Roses5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He's inhaling the scent of roses in your hair, and tasting the dark chocolate that you licked off your fingers a few hours ago. He's feeling the wax casing on your hands that, try as you might, you couldn't wash off. He's taking the song from your lungs to his, and breathing it straight back into your mouth.
You're tracing trails of white across the skin on his arms, his back, but he doesn't notice because he's busy tangling knots in your rose-scented hair. You're singing the same song and struggling to keep it in your own lungs for fear that he'll suffocate on its torturous beauty.
He's not afraid of
Echoes and Cacophonies Soft harmonies are meanderingEchoes and Cacophonies5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Along your thrumming vocal chords
Echoes and cacophonies are
Singing into small bright spaces
I'll sing you lullabies and rhapsodies that surround the air around you, but won't encroach on your fragile lungs when you breathe in the scent of lilies and frangipani.
The tiniest of melodies
Is twisting in circles around you
The infinitesimal notes
Are spiraling within your mind
You'll sing melodies into the smog-filled air that swirls around your feet as the steady beat hums along your skeletal frame.
Beautiful cacophonies fill
The navy, diamond-encrusted night
Dreams and memories sing reckless
Harmonies that dance in your mind
BarriersBarriers up around my mindBarriers6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Loved ones say to show my desire
Those who wish payment in kind
Will stare with ice, and speak with fire
I do not know what is the matter
I do not know, I cannot say
Will I become mad as a hatter
When I will tell not anyone
The barriers encroach my mind
Surround me, block out everything
Hiding me from all the stares, the glares
Linked to what I've done, but not done
Hiding from the NightmaresI'm sipping caffeine, trying to stay awake that little longer, just to stay away from the nightmares.Hiding from the Nightmares5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You know the ones, the ones that wake you with piercing screams and leave you marked with bruises as you gently shake me awake and I take an eternity to come alive.
I'm sorry, so very sorry, that your once pale flesh is violet and your face is raked with burgundy. Despite your ravaged features, you still come in every night to soothe me, to kiss the tears away as if they are precious pearls, to wipe the crystalline mask from my face, to caress the violent quivers from my fragile body.
You always tell me that if you could, you would take the horrors away, and I sadly tell you I wouldn't be strong enough to see you shattered and glistening like that. But you say that I'm stronger than anyone, else the fear would strangle me.
Every single night I lie trembling in your arms, amazed at how you are never choked by the fear weighing down the air around us. I wonder if you see the shadows prow
in the middle of a gun fightoh mother, i am not even the perfect imperfect that good men fall in love with. i am the imperfect scabbing on wrists and stuck under school desks that is fantasized in the minds of ex-bad boys who still love murder.in the middle of a gun fight5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
mother i am losing myself, pulling my eyelids shut pullingthemshutshuttingthemi'mshutting and when i open my fists they are full of wishes that i will blow. i am screeching my throat apart for help, 'cause i don't know when i'll be back again, dear god, will i be back again?
like every other greedy man, this god, writing his name on everything. good men tell me god is good and he is lenient and that faith is love so we should make it. oh mother, will i be renamed some day, or is god going to throw me away?
i am i am losing myself,
i am still in love with murder, will they hang me, mother? how much farther will i fall, will i finally touch the ground, will the momentum stretch me tall?
my bones are rattling like when i slam against the walls, oh mother, my hands are
Dear You, Nee: MyselfDear You (Nee: Myself);Dear You, Nee: Myself6 years ago in Letters More Like This
Sometimes when I am hazy (See: Unconscious) and out of my mind I think back to those tumultuous days when barefoot was mandatory and dress pants were for old people - I'd laugh, but I wear shoes now to cover my feet, cracked from years of wandering down the same path, and dress pants to present a respectable front for society, that very same one which together we would shun from an alley while sipping cheap beer directly from the bottle, pretending it was wine in a silver goblet, keeping a lazy eye out for the police.
I don't know where we went wrong, where we separated and flew in opposite directions like birds scattered . My fingers lay unmoving on this keyboard as I try to come up with words to express my greatest sympathies for killing you, nothing seems to be acceptable. Nothing seems quite right. What do you say to somebody who's life you took - I am sorry, I am remorseful, I would do it a
Sepsismy love for youSepsis6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
has escaped my heart;
it has spread through the
maze of capillaries and veins,
into the arteries.
has flooded my brain;
it has inhibited all
rationality, and fogged
it has taken unwelcome
refuge in my lungs;
burning in my breath,
devouring the oxygen
sucked past dry lips.
my love for you has gone
(the doctors say they cannot
clean my polluted blood,
because the infection festers
in my heart.)
Same Heart, Different ChestThe silence in his armsSame Heart, Different Chest5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
spoke all the words
between a thousand years
He told me:
"You could not have forgotten my face."
I am spray painting black doves
on the bellies of his walls,
but his walls were made of paper.
They folded and withered
as paint kissed cardboard barriers;
sleep would have taken me
if invisible entities
didn't pry my eyes awake.
In return, he made the galaxies
churning in my lungs rearrange,
and sideswipe into my heart.
Sixty-four years is too long
for anyone to hold their breath.
Common Human CourtesyDo you crave to know whyCommon Human Courtesy5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I strongly believe you're a monster?
Mind, your bulk is not comforting.
You're not the fluffy fanged type
that are scored by Karen O,
the species that just require a soothing
encouragement session with Oprah.
You're of the putrid, drippy variety,
the invertebrates with multiple tentacles.
The sort aristocratic cities employ
to keep their sewers fresh,
unpolluted and goblin-free.
Because procedures that are
common human courtesy,
operations the collective subconscious
subtly commands us to bear in mind, such as:
schlepping around a person's luggage
you've recently gathered from an airport, or
surrendering the passenger's side seat
to someone who's nine inches taller, or
offering condolences when news is shared
regarding a death in the immediate family,
never worm their way into your strangulated,
preening, completely self-obsessed mind.
However, if you truly are a monster,
then logically you shouldn't be real.
If you aren't a legitimate life form
(which I'm pret
Scarlet EmbroideryYou're weeping beads of red and they're staining the apples of your cheeks, and you're dripping rubies and garnets and silken petals of poppies and roses.Scarlet Embroidery5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There are train-tracks scattered up and down your arms and the trains have all run off the cliffs into the torn nail-beds below, and there's a running tally of lost, not yet found braceleting your wrists.
You're wishing the stars would hide behind the roiling clouds and that those clouds would step down to the ground and suck you up in a swirl of leaves and shattered metal. I'm wishing that they'd spit you back out again so I could replace the train tracks with an embroidered monorail that might fade to pink with time and words.
There's little speckles dancing behind your eyes and when you open them they're still there, fluttering across the feathers of a beautiful Robin. There's wildfire coiling and uncoiling above your heart-face and the tendrils brush your neck and cheeks as I lean in for a tentative kiss.
Then you realise