Healing WordsI will heal youHealing Words5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
so let me feel you deeply
let me penetrate your layers
I will get inside you
find your hurt
massage it a bit
I will use my thoughts
to mend those broken wounds
that have haunted you
all this time
I will spread my love
and recapture the beauty
that lies inside
I have healed you
DarlingYou turned on your laptop and set it down in my lap, and I stared into the screen as thousands of images and lines of text zoomed before my eyes. How did you always do this?Darling5 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Soon, everything blended together into one big blur, and the next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor beneath a mass of old, worn blankets and sheets.
I smiled and rolled over, looking out the window toward the sky. The stars were bright tonight...
The breeze was warm, and my heart was happy.
I could feel your bones as they poked through your clothes and jabbed at me.
It used to irritate me before, but now it's become my way of knowing if I've ever stopped dreaming-the feeling of the rough fabric of your jeans as they brush against my skin.
I knew you were there. It wasn't time to wake up yet....
You would never sleep before, but now you've somehow broken free of your insecure stage of not allowing me see you with your eyes closed.
I've become rather fond of your innocent, helpless state as I wake to it each ni
The Goddess of TGThe Goddess of TGThe Goddess of TG3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When the letter arrived with the rest of the mail, I had my head pressed against the wall. It wasn't some yoga or pilates thing. It was a frustration thing. With myself.
Just a few feet away, I had my hobby shelves. They were arranged in a mottled pattern with some shelves done and others missing. Many leaned dangerously to the side. Not a style choice.
First volumes of mangas and anime DVDs on one level. Scraps of knitting right below that. Dust swaddled "greats" of literature to the side. Juggling balls of assorted colors (none of them matching). A folder of sketched figures often missing legs and arms. A camera with a half-finished roll of film. Pristine cookbooks
I turned my attention back to the wall. Any of one of them could be useful for this free-time I had. But my attention drifted between them without settling on any.
Eventually, I made my way over to my computer and decided to check on a recent poem I'd started. With a deep breath, I set my sho
The DriveSitting here in this pointless office, I wander in my mind to different places, different times, different worlds. Somehow it feels like the world is trying to erase my ambition, creativity and ability to touch other people. I dont know what to do with myself anymore, it is frustrating to not think that you are a machine, typing and pressing gray buttons to the rhythm of the ticking clock.The Drive5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Some low whispered empty conversations, annoying mechanical phone rings, the night is falling down so fast you cant even see it coming. The windows are so dark you cannot feel the real difference between day and night, its all the same here, all the same.
A girl approaches me, bends a little on my desk, smiling. She says shes from Human Resources, wants to interview me about the workers conditions. I nod as I log off my user and detach off the keyboard. She leads me into a small room, round table, two chairs and a little laptop sitting quietly, humming to itself.
She asks me a
DBuilding SmutHe was kissing me. That was the only logical thought I could process. He was kissing me. His lips were moving against mine with an impatient aggression that made my knees weak and my heart race. The wall behind me and his weight against me were the only things holding me up, and one of his legs was pressing between mine. My mind was racing at a speed that I couldn't follow, jagged ideas and muffled observations leaping past me until I couldn't understand what was going on. I was acting impulsively, my hands resting against his chest and my tongue brushing against his without consulting my mind. I felt it shut down, no longer required in this situation.DBuilding Smut7 years ago in Erotic More Like This
I was kissing Day Clancy. That I could understand. I was kissing a tall, warm, sweaty eighteen-year-old boy in the theater department stairway. The cement wall was behind me, he was in front of me, and that was all I could comprehend. I was far too aware of his damp blond curls against my forehead, and the zipper of his jeans rubbing aga
history, carried onLindbergh dwells, voyeurhistory, carried on4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
of myths that climb like eagles
in dreams of young minds.
Bucky x Reader MesmereyesingYou were seated on your comfy sofa, rugged up in a blanket and bored out of your mind. Rain hammered against the roof of your house, sloshing over the windows like there was no tomorrow. Bucky, your flatmate―of sorts―of five and a half months sat opposite in an armchair, brow furrowed as he read yet another World War 2 book. Why he seemed to be so obsessed with that time period, you had no clue. You had asked him once. He hadn’t replied.Bucky x Reader Mesmereyesing2 months ago in Romance More Like This
Bucky didn’t talk to you much, but he had a kind of silent charm that made you feel warm inside. You remembered the day he had shown up at your door well.
It was late at night, it had been storming very badly and the power was out. An explosive crack of thunder woke you from your sleep and kept you awake. You had just got up to make yourself a hot drink when you heard the knocking at your door. You paused, waiting until you heard it again before acting. Your house was in the middle of a small forest and well out of anyone’
Prologue ProloguePrologue5 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
No being should ever have to succumb to this much pain.
No being should ever have to witness this much destruction.
No being should ever have to live and be tortured like they are...
The waxing moon cast eerie shadows as it shone through the slit of a window into the room. The walls, and even the floor, glistened and sparkled as the light hit them, the whole room seeming like some kind of magical cave. The great, barred door looked out onto a dim staircase that receded into the darkness above. In the back corner, as far away from both the window and door as possible, a number of figures sat hunched in the darkness. Their faces were hidden in shadow, the outlines of their bodie
The Voice of StudentsA voice is not meant to be caged. It is not meant to be bound by a leash, only to let the words "uh" and "um" out when called upon. Does society no longer have a voice? Have we fallen so far that we have turned into robotic, monotone men and women? A voice is meant to slip out, to tremble and quake! Do not keep the voice inside like it is a hideous monster! Speak when spoken to, answer when asked a question, volunteer to speak and let that beast off of its leash! A voice, your voice, it is meant to be heard.The Voice of Students5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
colour blind.She saw him at the park once. He was the colour of dirt; with bird eyes and white, mapped palms. Her little forehead lined as she felt the bile force its way up until her saliva was acid. She counted her toes and bit the inside of her cheek, should she run? Are they fast runners? She figured this one must be if he kept himself out of jail. The dark man flashed a mouthful of pebbles and held out his hand- which would have swallowed hers.colour blind.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
'Don't touch me.'
Her hands were all knuckles and her baby eyes tore into his. He faltered and stepped away, a half mouthed sorry. He looked upset, a grin spread like fire between her dimples.
Suddenly she imagined force-feeding him barbed wire and then tearing it back out- the way a clown pulls coloured cloth from his sleeve. She imagined tying the left of his limbs to a heavy tree trunk and the right to a truck. Dragging and pulling until his joints sang high with dislocation and his arms snapped like twigs. The way she likes the crackle of dea
sickDeath slouches over the edge of her bed, licking his lips as he caresses her thighs. He sings the noise of wind and rain crashing all around and her head throbs with the sound. Her head is hot. Her forehead is on fire and her cheeks catch alight with it. She burns silently and sees red, red, black.sick5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Tiny insects have crawled beneath her fingernails and they dig with tiny claws and teeth until they are swarming beneath her skin, biting outward at her flesh. Each vertebrae carries bruises and as she tosses her body about the bed they ache loudly and sharply.
All the heat has rushed to her face, her body shakes like a leaf in wind and goosebumps make known on every limb. I am dying, she tells herself- she can hardly hear this amongst the sound of hornets and the pressure in her head, but death smiles.
Her voice is lost. She calls aloud for someone and only death can make out the words. She cannot swallow, she can no longer move. Her hands desperately comfort her skin and she feels it like
exhalation.Sixteen. Sixteen years since she was the size of a deflated lung beneath her mothers ribcage- now she has her own mass beneath her ribcage. Thumping sometimes to the outside, treating the skin of Laylla's stomach like a door. It will open in 3 months, it will be sliced open because her flesh is meat and they'll bring Sophie to air and she'll swallow until all she tastes is that dull white of the hospital. And then she'll cry and the music will drone in Laylla's ears until she tastes vomit and she is numb in all the aching places.exhalation.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She doesn't know the father. She thinks Michael but she tells herself it is Louis. She repeats his name over and over in her head until it simply can't be anyone else's. But baby Sophie will have Michael's milk skin and his amber eyes and then she'll feel her heart sink all over again.
They fucked in a Garden. Wire fencing ripped open her calve like it was a gift and left a scar souvenir. He lifted her dress -sun yellow- and brought her underwear to meet her k
Los NnaiLos Nnai3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
GRACIAS A PUKEY82 POR DIBUJAR ESTA ESTUPENDA IMAGEN: Abomination EN LA QUE ME HE INSPIRADO PARA HACER ESTE TEXTO.
English version: The Nnai (it have errors, if you can correct in a comment it will be great, thank you Now this text have less errors thanks to UltimateRidley
Llamados Abominaciones o "los Hermosos", los Nnai 1 son una raza que despierta una simpática repugnancia en todos los seres que los conocen.
A pesar que durante eras se creyó que eran algún tipo de Ilícido, los acontecimientos más recientes 2 ocurridos en el Milegu hacen pensar que se trata de poderosos dem nutkiae [escuchar]. Los dem nutkiae
The Impact of Scars There is a girl sitting on the corner of her bed, and she is covered with scars. There are new scars, old scars, self-harm scars, and scars from surgeries. But most are scars from things done to her, things no young girl should even have to imagine. I have seen all her scars, but there are some no eye can see. Days spent locked in a basement, nights spent locked out in the rain, mothers hands which do unthinkable things, these leave scars cut deep into her mind. Scars which refuse to heal. She is safe from the hands now, from the basement and the rain; there is nothing left to hurt her. When faced with safety and happiness, she retreats back to the things she was taught for eighteen years of her short life. When faced with love, she picks up a shard of glass and adds more scars. I ask her why; she had promised me she wouldnt. Her answer is simple, the scars told her to.The Impact of Scars5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
asthmashe smokes marlboro cigarettes with the bedroom door locked. i taste it on her breath, lips and skin everyday after school. her bed is a mattress on the floor. sometimes we make love on it and i wonder if she'd rather have her mouth around a cigarette than me right then. she has asthma too.asthma5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
she is my second cousin. i didn't know this until two years after we began fucking and three years after i fell for her. i don't think it really matters. emily says if i ever made her pregnant she'd make me punch her in the stomach, heavy and hard. but i never would you know, i love her.
the smoking is killing her. i hid the cigarettes beneath the sink, but she just bought new ones and hid them better. she had her head down in the pillow, coughing, coughing until she coughed up sticky blood. i cried for her and she told me to stop being such a pussy. i told her i loved her and she drew another cigarette. kissing it ways she'd never kiss me.
some nights i sleep over hers. her father doesn't mind, he
Of A Gay Teenager's LoverConfessions of a Gay Teenagers LoverOf A Gay Teenager's Lover5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
August 30, 2008
To his mother: Your son loves you so much. He loves to see you smile and it breaks his heart to know he made you cry. He wants you to accept him and love him like you used to. He wants you to hug and compliment me like you did his first and last girlfriend. He wishes you could see how much his heart breaks every time you turn your head away.
To his father: He loves you too. He wishes you would see him as something other than a wimp and a sissy. He wants to play basketball again with you. He wants to live underneath the same roof as you again. It hurts him worse when you call him a fag and slam the door in his face than when you punched him so hard in the eye, it was black for two weeks.
To his sister: He wonders how you can be so accepting and yet so close-minded at the same time. He thinks that you are slightly a coward for saying you are as liberal as you want to be and then turning away from it when your views hi
Female to Male MakeupApplication of Makeup in Order to Make a Feminine Face More MasculineFemale to Male Makeup5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
When it comes to "passing" as one sex or the other, it is generally easier for 'women' to pass as 'men'. This is because the cues that signal the brain to the male sex are generally bigger, more protruding, and things that to feminise must be hidden - not enhanced.
This does not mean that it is "easier" to accomplish with makeup, people trying to do either generally fall victim to the same problem - not being able to see and understand the face on a very basic level - understanding what our instincts instruct.
This "tutorial" will focus mainly on the face, touching generally on use of clothing and binding for a "total" appearance. I will try to cover things important for part-time and full-times as well.
PLEASE KEEP IN MIND - where referring to the differences in appearance, this is obviously not going to be truth for all men. Just like the concept of beauty, the difference between male and female has no exact formul
When You Left Part IIWhen You Left Part II2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
[Verse 2] *Vizzy
I'm not a object to be charmed, I'm a man that charms humanity,
With plans in me- this girl created a bomb, armed, and implanted it in me,
Causing instant catastrophe which follows when I think systematically,
It flips my mentality, filled with mental acrobatics in me,
Tactfully unleashing sadness in me, I'll use alchemy to burn your memories,
Damaging amnesty, so dark that you brought agony to my fantasies,
I learned love only ends fatally, assaults that attack you painfully,
Someone's bound to get hit like ejaculating aimlessly, Hah
Consistently writing in calligraphy, conscience filled with complicity,
People are like beasts with agility to quickly steal your virginity,
After killing divinities, I've realized no emotions a match for me,
Gradually spilling my feelings to show you my hearts' capacity,
Substantially, gifted and spitting this while shifting the galaxy's gravity,
My anatomy's fit lyrically naturally since before our tragic depravity,
Passively filling yo
Octopi as a Metaphor (article)Octopi as a Metaphor (article)9 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Octopi (belonging to the class Cephalapoda) have the ability to change colour. It is generally assumed that they do this for camouflage underwater or to make them appear less palatable to predators but this is in fact only part of the story.
Octopi are molluscs - they diverged from our own evolutionary line 700 million years ago and are related to the Escargot family (snails). Since they have no backbone they are not classified as vertebrates. However, Octupi are considered a wonderful example of parallel evolution because their optical system is very similar to the mammalian optical system. The reason for this is thought to be that they evolved in an reef environment that is as dense and rich in environmental signals and visual stimuli as is also found in the heart of a rain forest where primates and proto-hominids evolved.
An Octopus is soft bodied which means that it can not only change its colour but it can also change its outer surface texture from smooth and rubbery, to bumpy or
The Adventures Of Bladewolf 1*PLOP* Another paper hit the bin. Mr. Overwhelmingly Nice sat at his desk trying to scribble the picture down, for what must have been around the seventh time. He wondered why he was doing this .. And when he looked up at the screen for I can laugh at you or send an image blog he posted, he remembered . Stupid requests .. Well, he was stuck now. *PLOP* Time for my eighth attempt!The Adventures Of Bladewolf 15 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ugh . The image was in his head but on paper the lines just didnt connect properly .. Stupid skills ..
RARGH!! The heads too big!! No one I know has a head that big!! Its freaky!!! *PLOP* ..Ninth time now. Maybe I should say I had less mistakes . No theyd probably figure it out Oh my gaawwwddd this is annoying
Stupid hand . Cant even draw a stupid hand!! How hard is it to draw a dumb hand?! Needless to say he was having some troubles . When out from
Stereotypical EmoEmo does not mean to have cool puffy backcombed hair with side bangs and the long extensions and the colorful colours through itStereotypical Emo2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Emo does not mean wearing black T-shirts/tops/vests or band tops or the wrist bands, and with skulls decorating everything you wear
Emo does not mean cutting yourself all the time or constantly sulking for yourself
Emo is not a type of music which is personally designed
Emo is not a type/brand of person or a feeling or constantly acting like there's no one there for you and you're all alone
Emo Means Emotional
It can be hating yourself for your own person reasons and everyone chooses to express it in different ways, all these things are just some ways some choose to do so
Well, they were before they became so over used and can just be a fashion statement to some or just a normal music genre to listen to.
But the long fringe can sometimes be the only thing they feel they can hide behind silently and unnoticeable without difficulty
Sometimes it's a case of wear
Bones mend, but tell no lies.You have cataloged your scarsBones mend, but tell no lies.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
like your body is a library-
to be read through &
You think of
all the little boys
whose greedy fingers
You are angry-
cared for you
They left you
on a shelf
to gather dust.
should you ever