Self Harm, my storySelf harm...Self Harm, my story5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Oh is so beautiful, wonderful even. You feel the bade or the flame, or whatever and you just sigh in relief. Oh how fucking awesome is this? To become addicted to seeing your own blood. To come to need the pain to feel alright. You become like a chain smoker that needs his nicotine and without it, he's just a jumpy mess.
But that is everyone else. I'm a cutter myself and the blade is so nice.
The first cut is always the shallowest and over time, you go deeper and deeper; seeing how far you can go. Then you just dig and dig, needing to see how much blood can flow.
But you can't forget the scars, that begin to appear. Over time it becomes a collection. At first you hide the scars; long sleeves for me. Then for some reason you tell someone, then some more people until you have a small group that knows. Why you tell? I don't know...
Then you start getting help. Why? I don't know.
But the scars are still there.
And eventually you start getting better.
But the scars are s
The Weeaboo's Guide to WarThe Weeaboos Guide to WarThe Weeaboo's Guide to War7 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Wapanese. Weeaboos. Japanophiles. They go by many names all indicating the same type of person. Said person is obsessed with Japan, clinging to anime, Japanese culture, and sushi to provide them with entertainment. Many of these people, though theyd disagree, are woefully unprepared for life in a war zone. Hopefully this guide will serve these people well and turn them back towards the righteous path I like to call Reality.
First of all, how do you know if youre a Weeaboo?
- Watch anime exclusively, rejecting other cartoons made in North America or Europe?
- Insert random Japanese words into your English sentences? (Neko, Desu, Kawaii, etc.)
- Own a sword for purposes other than decoration or sport? (IE fencing)
- Fawn over Pocky?
- Want to marry a Japanese person for no apparent reason other than that theyre Japanese?
- Make that stupid peace sign in pictures?
If you answered yes to two or mor
It tastes like love.I could speak of her in riddles,It tastes like love.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in aged, anatomy textbook terminology-
but, I wont.
You see, I cuffed this angel to my bedpost.
I sank my teeth into feathers she wore like a cage
and asked if I was dreaming, because Love,
you're not holding me. If you only knew the you in my head,
every night--tearing with these heavenly fingers
at the cracks in my sanity- you would allow me this!
Her tongue tastes my tears; nails clawing, clawing, clawing-
she takes away my pain,
but she doesn't belong to me either.
"We are but wolves.
Tell me, what does my blood taste like?"
Sheep PhobiaSheep Phobia5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It was just another one of those lazy days. There was absolutely nothing to do. Nothing, that is, except watch the clouds roll by. And that was exactly what Kyle Dunamis was doing today. It was too hot for him to be sitting out in the direct sunlight, so he sat beneath a shady tree that also didn't obstruct his view of the sky very much. He just sat back and watched the clouds roll in with all their different shapes: goats, bunnies, ducks, and... giant sheep faces?
It was at that moment that Kyle realized that he wasn't staring at a cloud anymore. He really was staring at the black face of a sheep. They locked eyes for a second, and then the sheep bleated innocently. Kyle instantly snapped back to reality and shot into an upright position. He let out a yelp of fear, and then he quickly started to back away from the sheep until he ran into the back of the tree. The poor, innocent sheep cocked its head and continued to stare at Kyle, who was hyperventilating with fear. When the animal st
Monologue"I could tell you that I do this because I'm insane, because God is in my head, because I go about my business with a thousand avenging angels conducting a symphony of holy amorality, directing my every move. Because organized crime killed my father, raped my mother, and tortured my sister, and that they had all this coming to them. That I do this because I like it; because I like to kill, and that I'm no more alive than when I stand there looking down on them, willing the light to go out of their life, staring down at their eyes so that I can watch--so that I can feel them die. Because I revel in it. Because I'm lost. Because I wasn't breast-fed or because society wouldn't have me or that I was abused, scorned and hated. That life was cruel and God disowned me.Monologue9 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
That I never watched a violent movie in my life and that my parents protected me and nurtured me too much, and when I saw
Bambi's mom get murdered in cold blood, it unhinged my mind. That Disney walked away with my soul and tha
CutCut3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The blood is running down the hall
Little drops cover up all
Everything has turned to red
Except her lifeless body
No beauty remains, she just shows the pain
That drained her veins
So pale, so pure, so innocent
She was nothing but a mistake
The tear stains crawl down her cheeks
Now she found the peace she needed
Wasn't the price too high to pay?
Wasn't too much for it?
Oh, it started as a cut and ended with death
She didn't mean to but she had no chance
Underneath her torn up skin
You will find all her suffering
It started as an exception and became the rule
She didn't expect to go through this all
Underneath her shadowed eyes
You will see what she hides
But it's too late… The little girl is dead
Oh, it started as a cut and ended with death
She just meant to feel okay for a single day
Underneath her dozen smiles
You will find a billion tears to cry
It started as an exception and became the rule
She didn't want to be what she was
Underneath her secureness, her strength
Our Final Goodbyes.Our Final Goodbyes.4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I couldn't believe it. James wrapped an arm around me, and I completely lost it. If we hadn't been dating since the beginning of the year, I would've pondered why James was here with me. He hugged me close and let me cry onto his shoulder, Remus holding onto my other hand for comfort. Right now, all I wanted to do was shrivel up into a ball and die. Especially with the looks Tuney kept shooting in my direction, as if this was all my fault. Vernon was with her, the whale doing nothing to ease the obvious pain my sister was feeling. I couldn't believe it. Mum and Dad had been found at home, dead. Nobody's entirely sure who did it, but by the rather obvious looks of it, they had been tortured to death by Death Eaters. I was a little surprised with how James reacted when he found out. He'd been planning to be an Auror since we were twelve, and this seemed to ignite the passion for the job, wanting to avenge my parents' death. I didn't object in any way. Though I don't plan on being an Auro
Dear Poetry,I am trying to cover my sadness with words.Dear Poetry,3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tape them against my scars
& wear them like worthy paper cuts.
My tears are alcohol swabs, burning & cleansing
wounds of my own making. Sometimes,
I wish I could hide behind them forever.
But not even this journeyed flesh can stand
castle strong against speechless ink stains.
I know the code. This body does not deserve
a warriors death. & poetry, you're a monster
a creative monster, but evil nonetheless.
I wish to string you into knots, force feed you
down the throats of others. De-format you
& leave you empty; freeversed-
to hang loosely along the heartstrings
of strangers, & past lovers.
We are the perfect poster children for
battered homes, aren't we poetry?
The dysfunctional couple
black-eyed and angry love.
You can't protect me from myself forever.
Two SistersTwo Sisters3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One who rises the sun
One who rises the moon
Share power equally
For yet a struggle is brewing.
not among these two sisters
but the struggle is among the people.
One side for the day
One side for the Night.
nothing but a arguement
until one eveing between the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon
a fight that will involve two sisters
both holding love for each other
until that fight.
the one that controls the moon heard the please of the people
her heart clouded in their judgement
Evil did she turn
Her older sister
one who rises the Sun
Pleaded to her but her please fell on death ears
Basinshment did happen
for many moons the sister of the night was never seen
Until one night she came back
the act of six brave people cleared her heart
forever given by her sister
she return to rule the night
with her sister their to help.
Two sisters who rule a kingdom
Peace is all everyone knows now
but will that peace last
for their are people who want the nigh
KaomojiKaomoji6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Multiple Line Kaomoji:
（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
( )_( )
Single Line Kaomoji:
( =^)☆(^o^) [Kiss]
´o` [*Why Not??]
(ﾟД ﾟ ) [Shock]
InsanitySomething deep inside of me is dying to be released; something powerful and strong; the opposite of me. It is struggling in wait; pulling at its chains, desperately seeking fresh blood. Oh, how I can't stand the pain it is causing! It has been locked up for so long; too long! Its claws dig fast into my soul ripping away at me; tearing at my every emotion; leaving nothing behind. Each growl rattles my mind; each breath turns me cold; cold to the core. The chains are straining against its strength; each pull weakening the link. Not long now. I can feel it. The beast gives a roar of rage; rage against the world; against the people in it. Let me free! Let me free! My heart drums frantically inside its bony prison; my pupils dilate automatically and my hairs stand on end. Something inside has cracked.Insanity5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
siirŞiirsiir4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
oysa diye başlayan şiirleri sevmiyorum
oysa diye biten şiirleri sevmiyorum
've' dediğin şey bağlaçtır çok anlam yükleme istiyorum
ama genel anlamda şiiri severim güzeldir yani
'ama' da burada bağlaçtır yani.
'yani' desen hakeza.
birinin beni sevebilme ihtimali bir zamanlar güzeldi
ama artık yetmiyor yani
yani ekmeğimi taştan çıkarmak istemiyorum artık
bunu anlıyor musun?
ekmeği de keder gibi bulsak sofrada, masada istiyorum
masa da masa olsun ama hani!
herkes şiir yazar ama şair olamaz
diye bir cümle kuruluyorsa
ve kurumsallaştırılıyorsa şiir
('ve' burada bağlaçtır)
şiirin şiirliğini küçümsüyor olmuyor muyuz
diye sorarsak cümleten sol yanımız buza kesmez mi?
bir yol vardır mesela
yamaçlarında ağaç bitmiştir ayr
Incapable of LoveWhisper to me softly,Incapable of Love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tell me that you need me,
Make me feel like I'm wanted.
I'm tired of feeling empty,
Somebody, give me something.
Someone, make my heart beat,
& Make me feel like I'm on fire when you kiss me,
Don't let me be able to forget you.
I want someone to unlock my heart,
I'm sick of not being able to let anyone in,
I want to fall in love again.
I'm so sick of this,
I need to feel something,
I haven't felt in love in so long.
I promise, every time I smile and say, "I love you, baby" it's a lie.
'Cause darling, I'm incapable of that kind of love.
I only say what you really wanna hear,
But it's not all a lie,
I do care, I do adore talking with you,
Goodbye DadGoodbye Dad4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You tried to talk to me.
You tried to hug me.
You tried to make me feel special.
And what did I do?
I ignored you.
I did not hug back.
I ignored your kindness.
I always expected you to be there.
To be there when I came home.
To be there when I woke up.
And what happens?
in the blink of an eye,
I begin to learn the truth,
the truth of the pain you went through,
the truth you tried to hide from me,
so I would not feel the same pain as you.
You tried to protect me.
You tried to keep my life painless.
You tried to love me.
And what did I do?
I ignored you....
Everyday I wake up feeling guilty,
I want to say sorry so badly,
I want to hug you one more time,
I want to say I love you one more time.
But it's too late....
In the blink of an eye,
I wish I could tell you how sorry I am.
I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me.
I wish I could tell you how much I love you....
You were always so kind,
even when the stress was eating you a
xoxoI loose myselfxoxo7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in those green swirls
every time i look at you
in your warm arms
Id feel so safe right by your side
gliding through your ginger hair
dreaming of forgotten worlds
hidden behind your specs
an angels voice
kept safe under your trendy hat
echoes in my little head
oh how I wish Id see you again
even if you are so far
to find the happiness I long for
in those green lovely eyes
01-07 - Terapia Pt 201-07 - Terapia Pt 210 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
- E até quando vais andar assim?
- Não sei. Nem sei se depende de mim.
- Claro que depende. Depende de quem então?
- De alguém que não eu.
- Mas tu és o primeiro a admitir que és o teu pior inimigo.
- E sou. Porque isto é castigo.
- E que crime cometeste tu?
- Falhei quando não devia e faltei a quem precisava.
- As pessoas erram e falham.
- Não eu.
- Não és humano?
- Não quero ser.
- Mas não podes fugir a isso.
- Infelizmente... mas eu tento.
- Haverá alguma coisa de que não tentes fugir?
- Haverá alguma coisa.
- Não te cansas das tuas contradições?
- Que contradições?
- Precisas de alguém, procuras alguém, mas fazes com que se afastem de ti. Queres ser feliz, mas não fazes nada por isso. Não queres viver, mas não te matas. Queres descansar, mas não te permites a isso. Queres fugir à dor, mas continuas a ser tu quem te causa mais dor.
Merak - Aziz NesinMerak - Aziz Nesin7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
içimde bir merak
öyle bir merak ki
ölümümden bir ay sonra
bir güncük yaşamak
suç üstü yakalamak.
TristezaTristeza10 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
-Até quando vai durar isto?Estou farto destas idas e voltas.
-Até tu deixares que dure.
-E como é que eu faço? Não é um simples carregar no botão.
-Se quizeres eu carrego.
-Gosto de ti.
-Eu também gosto de ti.
-E não te quero triste, ok? Promete.
-Oh...mas eu estou triste agora...
-Mas não podes.
-Porque eu não quero.
depois de te ires embora
-Eu também não...e olha para mim. Não consigo suportar estas recaídas. Tu sabes...eu já te contei. Tu mostraste-me aquele texto lindo que eu tomei como meu. Fizeste-me chorar com ele. Mas eu não tenho essa força, não consigo ser tão forte. Por vezes consigo. E não sinto que esteja a ser falso, realmente consigo me concentrar aonde estou e com quem estou. Mas em noites como esta, nem as lágrimas consigo que me corram pela cara abaixo. E cansado de falar disto com toda a gente. Cansado de não seguir os meus próprios conselhos. Cansado de me dizerem para fazer aquilo que não consigo fazer. Só me faz sentir nojo de mim pró
Two Pairs Of WingsTwo Pairs Of WingsTwo Pairs Of Wings5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Drowning in twilight
That usually is so
Full and noisy
Now has become empty and very very silent
Not a single move
You can see when you
Take a look around
The time stopped its flow
The space is frozen
The only two hearts beating
Are now mine and yours
We were given a moment
But we will make that moment
In darkness thickening all around
Following the need to
Get closer to each other
As if there was an
We take tiny steps
Those will bring us
To a place where dreams are born
Where everything starts
And passion never ends
I am trying to find a way to there
When I comb your hair with my fingers
With a gentle move you lift my chin
And kiss me so lightly
As if I was a snowflake
That you wouldn't like to melt with your lips
Our eyes meet and
Talk to each other's
Please don't hurt me
Let me trust you and don't disappoint me
Please don't leave me
Do not betray me and never let me down when I fall
A LareiraA Lareira10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ele estava em frente à lareira, a pensar na sua vida, nos últimos tempos. O fogo sempre o fascinou. Quer pelo seu calor, quer pela sua cor. Tinha vida própria. Com o frio que se faz lá fora, ele gosta de estar perto da lareira, ajudava-o a pensar e ao mesmo tempo a relaxar. Sabe que o seu pai anda preocupado com ele, mas ele não consegue falar. E nunca sentiu preocupação por parte do pai antes, não fazia sentido desabafar com ele agora. Comunicação nunca foi o seu forte, mas tinha especiais dificuldades com o seu pai. A chama parecia dançar conforme a velocidade dos seus pensamentos. Talvez fosse por causa disso que ele gostava de estar em frente à lareira. Sentia que era a única maneira de se sentir refugiado, compreendido. De repente ouve chamar pelo o seu nome, baixinho, um tímido sussurro. Ele olha em volta, mas não vê ninguém. O seu pai ainda não tinha chegado a casa, ele estava só. Diz a si mesmo que não foi nada e volta ao seu estado anterior. Está cansado, estes últimos dias te