Love That Turned UntouchedBelieve me when I said I loved you,Love That Turned Untouched6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
know that I trusted and cared for you,
the love I held so close,
slipped away so fast.
I believed you when you told me you'd be back,
I knew and trusted that you'd keep your promise,
I knew love was held in your heart for me,
I hadn't know though, that it would disappear immediately.
You believed that I cared too much,
you knew I loved you and trusted you,
you touched that love for just a moment,
you let it die anyway.
Just words, he said.They are just words, he said.Just words, he said.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not realising how they echoed and swelled in my head.
They cannot hurt you, she said.
As I sat numbed into silence, bleeding invisible rivers of crimson red.
It's all in your mind, he said.
As their collective voices reached fever pitch, loud enough to wake the dead.
You just need to let it go, she said.
As I watch yet another escape route to happiness slam shut, in my head.
It can only hurt you if you let it, he said.
To my deaf ears, that hear only their voices and horror's instead.
Suicide???She Sits in a corner all alone, reflecting on her reasons to morn, she picks at her veins with a silver blade. Hoping it will turn the pain away. The pain of those snarls and dirty looks. Hoping for a fairy tale she only finds in books. She looks at the pistol on her bed afraid of the blood she's about to shed. Thinking of the impossible and heading for the worst, her tears begin to burst: from her eyes, her conscience too frantic to silent her cries, the guilt and the might is too much to take she's getting the feeling; she`s about to break. she steps with footsteps so silent and slow, trying to keep quite so no one will know. The pain she is in, she can not bear. She picks up the pistol so shinny and bright, makes sure she sets the pistol just right to her head, against her skin. Too afraid to let anyone in. This is what has become of a tragic tale, a girl and gun, another despair. She looks to her left and looks to her right. Second-guessing the will not to fight secondsSuicide???8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
when i wantwhen i wake up,when i want6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i want a thrill.
i want to have spiders crawling on my bed lamp,
my roof to be gone and the sun in it's place,
to wake up with a sweet boy,
whose name i've forgotten already.
after i die,
i want someone to figure out all the passwords to my accounts,
and post a lovely statement covering my death.
so my online friends won't worry,
or say that i've abandoned them.
when i'm older,
i want someone to know me.
i want someone to find my sites,
eat my words up with their eyes,
i want someone to take so many photos of me,
that i feel pretty,
i want someone to remember what i say,
and repeat it back to me when i'm sad or angry,
i want someone to hug me and whisper my own words back like a lullaby.
before i give birth,
i want the father to laugh and scream and cry with me.
i want the doctor to say he's happy to see me healthy,
i want my mother to be quiet,
and my brother to have his wife there with him,
so she knows how to handle it when it happens,
and i want to eat sushi and wat
songs we humonce, in first or second grade, i spoke to emily. it must not have been a very deep conversation--how deep can seven-year olds get?--because i don't really remember what each of us said. i just remember emily's wild blonde hair and long eyelashes; the explosion of freckles across her face. emily lived down the street, but she lived far away enough to be on the stop before mine, so we never had a chance to speak. or maybe i just didn't want to talk to her. i don't know.songs we hum6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
now, here's the thing. emily, you still live down the street from me. you have a daughter--angela--and i have my beautiful melissa. melissa's first day of school, i walked her the extra few blocks to get to angela's bus stop. while melissa counted cars and found animals in the sky, i had eyes only for the fair-haired, blue-eyed girl that stood to my left; the stars scattered upon her cheeks. maybe if i'd been loo
Liar***Liar6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The first time you realize he's lying is a Sunday. He coughs a couple times, maybe once or twice, and you find yourself reaching out, asking, "Are you okay?"
It's habitual, something you always do. It's just reflexive, years of politeness grilled into your head. He knows that, he knows that.
And yet he glares at you suspiciously. "I'm fine."
A small voice in the back of your head says, 'Liar' and you wonder just where that came from. Because you know he'd never lie to you, you've been best friends for far too long for that.
But that's the only logical explanation as to why he's staring at you as though he's trying to puzzle something out. Maybe he's just wondering how you could possibly know he's not telling the truth...
The second time you realize he's lying, he's at school. The professor approaches, asking for the essay he was supposed to write.
"I don't have it." His face is troubled, worried, and, as that tiny voice inside your head points
Letter to a Younger Me.Love is unconditional... If there are conditions, it is not love.Letter to a Younger Me.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
smile.smile even if your heart stops beating.smile.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
somehow you would always forget to
keep what you want to say in your head,
but sometimes it helps.
"i never planned to," [let go] he says, and you realize you've said it out loud.
you mutter i love yous into his
collarbone, and the rise and fall of
his stomach slows to a stop.
warm hands hold your face and he's kissing you breathless. "is that an i love you too?
you lie together and press yourselves
into each other, feeling the rhythmic
beat of both hearts.
"no," he murmurs [as his hand finds your heart], "it's an i love you more."
your heart swells to a million times it's original size, and so does your smile.
quicksand."describe what you think love is," the professor says, gesturing for them to start.quicksand.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"it's an everlasting adventure," a pimply boy says, voice trembling in just the slightest.
"love is like quicksand; the longer you stay in it, the deeper you are," a girl in pigtails mutters from the back.
the professor smiles.
"love is the key to happiness."
"love is never too small for anyone."
"love is a slice of heaven on earth."
"love is the only sane answer for our existence on earth."
"love doesn't exist," you cut in, and you leave the room.
This One's For Mei.This One's For Me5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
If you're reading this, then I hope you know how sorry I am.
I used to write as some sort of an escape, a coping mechanism, and part of me still does but the other half wonders if it's really helping me at all. My sleeping schedule is still so dysfunctional , much like myself, and most days I'm depressed and left wondering why, more often than I can manage to slap a smile on my face. I really hope you don't think this is a rant because it really isn't; sometimes I just need to get things out in the open, well not really the open, because I hate being vulnerable, so let's go with I like getting things some space. Speaking of space, lately I've noticed my ribs are poking out more than usual and the silent gaps between my sentences are growing. I'm worried that pretty soon my ribs will puncture my skin and my lungs will leak out and I'm scared that if I don't learn to talk more often, even if just a mumble, I'll become a mute. Maybe, it's better off that way.
If you're still readin
interlocked.it's freezing and it stings my skin, but it's okay, because my hand's so warm from yours that it'll slowly heat the rest of me up anyway. a small voice in the back of my head tells me that it's rather late, but it's okay, because nothing's ever late with you. it's okay because your fingers interlace over the warmth of my belly, and somehow you pull me closer to you. it's okay because when your head dips into my collarbone, your hair tickles my face, and it feels amazing. it's most definitely okay because i can breathe you in and not have to feel desperate, because i'll have you forever.interlocked.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we find a little scenic, secluded bench near a road overlooking the sea, and we spend a few moments watching bikes shoot by and listening to the dim roars of engines. your hands are still locked around my waist, but i don't remember that little fact when i told you to hold me and hold me tight. but you do anyway, without saying a word. i untangle your arms and turn around to face you, looking down at yo
traces in the sandi wrote "forever" before i eventraces in the sand6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
started to believe in things
and i'm wondering who is the
idiot who invented the
feeling of "love"
someone once told
me that if you put your
ears against the floor, you can
hear earthquakes and
i asked him to
put his ears on my chest
and listen to my
i wrote "tomorrow" and
wondered how long
it would take for
it to wash away by the
waves that seemed "beautiful"
and i'm wondering who is the
idiot who invented the
feeling of "hope"
someone once told
me that the spaces between
his fingers would be
filled with mine and i told
him that the spaces
between us is
i wrote his name before
realizing what i was
doing and i tried
to erase all traces of
him; i can't help
but think he's beautiful
and that i've been ugly
my whole life
and i that i
really hated his parents
the idiots who
WeaknessLove is nothing but a weakness,Weakness6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A strange sort of emotion,
Putting up to the test
Your strength and your devotion.
It feels good for the first little bit
While you're hoping it will last.
But then you just go and sit,
As you watch it walk right past.
Then, every time you see it come
You struggle to hide the tears.
You cry and cry till your hurt is numb
And hope escape is near.
Every day, it happens again,
And you wish it could just stop.
It's just so hard to endure this pain.
This and death, I'd swap.
Then, one sunrise,
There's a different feeling.
Something so familiar, but filled with lie.
And in that moment, you realize you're done healing.
how did it ever come to this?[tone]how did it ever come to this?4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
'are you crying?
[the line breaks]
'that we were-'
'-that we were what?'
'something more than-'
'-more than casual sex?'
'for god's sake, please, stop saying that.'
'you're perfect. we could be perfect.
the last thing i wanted to do was hurt you.'
'it's my fault.'
'how can you say-'
'i was standing there.
i was watching, as you touched her more intimately than we ever did.'
'-and it felt like everything stopped.
i forgot where i was, my body stopped and my breath stammered out of my lips and i didn't notice my friends hugging me and the tidal wave of support. i still felt like i was free-falling.'
'i didn't know you saw.
just shout or something-'
'i don't want to shout'
'this is me doing what i want.
fucking listen, grit your teeth and bear it.
or would you rather i-'
'i hoped you'd realise that girl wasn't me, and you'
Bring on the RainI stared out of my bedroom window as the rain poured down, the wind throwing it randomly into the glass and both the close and distant rolls of thunder creating the depressing symphony playing in my darkened room. Part of me longed to go out there into the rain and just simply disappear into the stormy night. Part of me didn't think that it could be much worse out there at the mercy of the elements compared to in here in the relative safety of my father's house. My eyes traveled from the window, to the piece of metal that kept glinting in the flickers of lightning.Bring on the Rain6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Yes, the piece of metal was a razor blade that I had taken from a disposable razor I found in the bathroom. Yes, the thoughts running through my head were definitely along the lines of pressing that blade into the pale flesh of my wrists and cutting until there was no hope of stemming the flow. No, I'm not some depressed teenager who is looking for attention, nor am I one of those people who gets off on the feel of pain or t
Monologue for my younger self(An adolescent on the verge of adulthood. She is addressing the audience as though they are her younger self.)Monologue for my younger self6 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Hey. HEY! Yes, you, I'm trying to get your attention. No, you don't know me, at least, not yet. I won't bother explaining who I am, you wouldn't believe me anyway.
Don't lie, I know you do. You talk to strangers all the time, sure, it's online, but strangers nonetheless. What's so different now, Charlotte?
What do you mean you're gonna go now? Get back here! It's not important how I know your name, the important thing is that I do and you need to listen.
You're gonna look pretty stupid stood there shouting at me. I mean, you're the only one who can see me.
Prove- What do you mean prove it?! Haven't you seen all these people staring at you, whilst you're "talking to yourself?" (sighs, annoyed). Y'know what, fine. Here's someone coming along now.
(Steps forward and facing the side, arms out wide.)Hey, hey lady, look at meee! (Shudders a little as though s
GreenDrink to remember,Green6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Forget drinking to forget.
If I were to cut out all the bad times,
Oh, there would be little left.
Just give me half a' bitter dear
And I'll chase it with regret.
They'll be almost calling time soon
And I haven't finished yet.
I'm drinking to remember
Please, someone hold that bell,
Before I take the long walk home,
Half a mile from hell,
Before the wife I'll never meet
Awakes, and starts to yell
Give me something stiff to steady me:
And I'll have a drink as well.
That green faerie brings me bad luck,
And a sleep, I have to tell
If in a second I am falling over
In another I have fell
I have stumbled past self-pity
Sought and swallowed all regret
I am drinking to remember
But it isn't working yet.
Clouds of smokeIt was so cold outside, every breath you blew turned to those little clouds of smoke.Clouds of smoke5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My mind didn't work, but my eyes did, though.
I should have listened to what you said,
instead of looking at what you said turned to.
Smoke in the air turned to smoke in my memories.
You looked at me and I didn't have any words left,
but those that kept on repeating itself in my mind.
I love you.
But those were the words I could not allow myself to say.
I could think them, though.
So I kept on thinking them, without speaking.
Maybe my silence was enough,
but when you said you had to, I wanted to tell you
I, as well, had to go,
Afraid of the breaking of a heart,
I never said what I thought.
Afraid of the leaving of a love,
I tried not to think anything
Still, you were breathing and I was staring at those clouds of smoke.
When I looked up at you, you said;
'You aren't ever afraid, are you?'
'No,' I said, and I knew all the words I had left were on the tip of my to