The Lyrics To Love, Chapter 1Series: GleeThe Lyrics To Love, Chapter 14 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It had been days since the one moment in Santana's short life that she wanted nothing more than to forget, a moment when she had bared her broken but loving soul to the one person she cared about the most in the world and had it gently declined. For days, she had cried when no one else was looking, thrown and hit things when no one was around, and simply watched from a painful distance the one person she could never truly have. Her heart had been shattered, and the feigned confidence that had once gotten her through the days was lost from her. She was dying without a wound, Cupid's ill advised arrow the weapon in her murder. All in all, it was unfair.
And yet, if she thought about it, everything that had happened- from the moment her love had gone elsewhere for the affection she craved to what had occurred those days ago- had been her doin
Hand Of FateAs life can seem a blessing, we had come into it being tied to something; someone. Even when physically separated we are still together, almost joined at the hips in arguments and comical situations. They told us in history and social studies that we are now free people. Yet we are still tied down by something; someone. Our civil rights may be ours truly, yet our very lives aren't. We don't live it for ourselves, and only the naive can really say that they do. They would tell you that they don't do things for others, only for themselves and to live life as best they can for numero uno.Hand Of Fate5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We are in a world where we not only live to survive, but survive to live. We are not free but enslaved to the dreams we either share or keep to ourselves until finally achieved. We are always saying that what we do can change the world one day even when we pass on, our legacy will still wander the earth. We preach to the world and to our own that nothing will hold us back and yet we are
Taking OverThanks for being thereTaking Over6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
inside my head,
Thanks for telling me
what goes unsaid,
Thanks for leading me
down this road,
Thanks for helping me
decode this code.
But your help has been a little much,
Now instead of just whispers,
I can feel your touch.
Feel your hands on my back
Feel your breath on my neck.
You've begun to push,
begun to shove,
You've made me do things
I can't even speak of.
You're here around me
All the time
I'm committing all of your
But what if
I wanna go back
I wanna get off this track
your touch makes me squeal
and your voice makes me cry
I turned to you and uttered a "goodbye"
What if I shut my mind
and locked the door.
Would I even be myself anymore?
Or are you now a part of me?
Maybe you're like the vines of a tree
That climb up my trunk
and begin to constrain
You hold me tight
Like a tough silver chain.
Or maybe instead I'm a part of you
Maybe you've eaten me like predators do.
I'm wrapped in your stomach
shouting to be free
Love's Expiration DateShelf life is defined as, "the length of time a particular product is given before it is deemed unsuitable for one to consume or use." As usual I took this concept a little further and applied it to relationships. Because, according to The Beatles and Hallmark, all we need is love.Love's Expiration Date5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Or is there more?
I'd definitely say my life is saturated with much more than just love itself. I double dip in an array of adjectives and nouns as I please. It's not that I'm a complete cynic; it's just that I haven't had the "aha!" moment yet. In the romantic sense that is. I have some of the greatest platonic supports in my life. Giant pillars be damned. What is love for? I enjoy the idea of feeling warm and safe, but if that was it then we'd all own Snuggies. So what's the kicker here? Is this instinct primal or something bigger?
At eighteen years young I have accepted the fact that I don't know all the answers. My crossword puzzles always have gaping holes, and my mind is a nice reflection of them. I th
The Bus StopSnowflakes drifted through the air, illuminated and turned gold by a whining streetlight. In the glow, a man stood and gazed up at the sky. He wore a black toque and ski jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets to stay warm. The street he currently occupied was asleep, the houses silent with their darkened windows. Briefly, the man wondered how long he'd been standing there, then decided it really didn't matter.The Bus Stop5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Where are your shoes?"
A voice pierced the darkness behind him. Curious, the man glanced back to see who had joined him, and found himself looking at a young girl. She was in her mid-teens, a place where she was unsure who she was or who she even wanted to be. Long wisps of brown hair escaped from a baseball cap on her head, fluttering slightly in an almost nonexistent wind. The man's eyes however, were drawn to the package she held in her hands. It was being turned over and over, as though she knew it wasn't meant for her and was worried it would burn her if she didn't keep it
The PianistHe played the piano. All day in his home near the town square, people could hear the faint melody of the keys. But at night, when the town was blanketed by the navy velvet sky, the notes carried through the air effortlessly, calming even the angriest of men and lulling the minds of the ferocious dogs that barked for hours on end. Babes needed not the soft tunes of their mothers' lips to carry them into the land of sleep, for he who played the piano had taken that shift upon himself.The Pianist5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And tonight, the babes were hushed into peaceful slumber, mothers silently grateful for the sweet reprieve. Men wallowing in the taverns had come to stand beneath the full moon, regardless of the heavy downpour. Many ears were deaf of all save for the slow and graceful melody that seemed to come from everywhere at once, almost a second blanket to the town underneath the midnight quilt pierced with tiny diamonds.
High above the town, atop his home, he played. Face upturned and eyes squeezed shut, he let his
but it's alrightThis is not a love songbut it's alright8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
written for the trapped, the stolen
(and auctioned off the block)
this is not a eulogy
for all I left unsaid and all we sought and fought
this is not a Christian hymn
(I forsake that which has forsaken me)
this is not a victory cry
I said give me freedom or let me die
because I've got nothing left to lose
(and everything to gain)
I've been bought and branded
I've been sold and caged
I've been marked up, cut up and left for dead
I am torn up and enraged
(my sense of rejection is newly inflamed)
now I'm lost here on center stage
but somehow I'm left still standing
now's the time to choose
(get your priorities in order)
do you rebel or do you survive?
do you live to genuflect
or do you risk it all for freedom?
stand up for all that's screaming from inside
or will you give in and walk the line?
(between your life and your pride)
your subordination is all you have left to give
(all they have yet to take from you)
because they've got all food and water
they take away
I'd be LyingI'd be lying if I saidI'd be Lying5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that your eyes were brighter
than the stars.
Stars are made of
exploding gas that emits
their bright color.
Your eyes are made
of murky brown
and emit nothing
I'd be lying if I said
that every time you kiss me
butterflies fly in my stomach.
If there were butterflies
then every time you kiss me
my stomach would clench
and kill those butterflies
in one fatal swoop.
I'd be lying if I said
that your touch sent
shivers down my spine.
Your touch makes my skin crawl
and the only thing that makes me shiver
is my own heart cracking
under the ice pick you
I'd be lying if I said
that our relationship is made
Cliches are only meant for
those who are truly in love.
tattoo artistone time you compare me to a dancer.tattoo artist5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i ask why.
you claim my every movement is as graceful
as the gentle turning of the earth,
as precise as the path of a raindrop
shattering perfectly into glass.
Where did you read that? Shakespeare?
Ye of little faith. I don't dance.
dumb puppy, soft-headed loser,
i adore you but i do not trust your brains.
it is freezing outside when we walk across
the gap between
cars, and you show me what it feels
like to be touched by numb
lips, pressed against a wall of my reticence
like a bone-chilling wind.
It was just a kiss. Why did you look at me that way?
For once I thought somebody understood.
i close the door
to keep out wind and fear and confusion and you.
it doesn't take me long to explain all
your bad points.
in summary, you are a selfish reckless rock-solid
phony with gossamer insides and armor out
idiot for love, unstable as ripe volcanic magma
and just as passionate.
But I will follow you on destruction's path.
Boy, we'll blaze out
DamnedSmoke wanders into my lungsDamned8 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
Slick black tongue swallowed
Bitter salt with pain
Harder to breathe
Hands feel the cold, dry touch
Sight darkens and blurs
Body numbs from the silhouette
Haunting stains on my thoughts
Have I kissed
The monster in the closet?
it's like this.it's a tap leaking. drops of water falling to the steady rhythm of your syncopated heartbeat. no matter how tightly you turn the handle, it dripsdripsdrips as though it has a will of its own; that is my love for you. there is no "it will fade away in time." there is no "if you ignore it will become a distant memory." there is no off switch. i wish there was.it's like this.5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
it's holding your breath and the all-encompassing silence that follows; leaving nothing but anguish, a burning sensation on your temple and a soft - yet prominent - ringing in your ears to muffle the nothingness. life pauses for all of five seconds and you exhale as though breathing has no meaning. we are captured in a series of trivial moments and those letters filled with excuses that i will never write.
it's knowing that sweater won't fit you again but storing it in the attic for sentimental value. you burned holes in the sleeves with your father's clipper and that chocolate fudge cake never entirely washed out. de
The CrowThe Crow5 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
There's a crow outside my window,
Telling me I'm going to die.
There's a crow outside my window,
He doesn't care about my life and I,
Keep telling him he's got the wrong guy.
He sits outside my window, and doesn't say a word.
But the moment I close my eyes, he starts crowing as loud as he can.
That little turd....
I try to tell my parents,
But they ignore my cries and woes.
I try to speak to my wife, staring her face to face almost touching her nose.
But she just sits there crying, staring at my toes.
My friends all look sad, whenever I see them too.
I wonder what could be bothering my old childhood crew....
Then one day I follow them. One by one, to this place.
A flowery meadow, with sad looks upon each of their face.
They all seem to be crying, what could be going on?
I walk closer, to see me lying...in a ditch 6 feet long...
And now the crow lands upon my shoulder, nudging at my cheek.
He says, "It's time for you to go. Your time here is now complete."
The crow had not been wa
Death and despairDeath and despair8 years ago in Open More Like This
Please sweet death come down on me!
Touch me with your black wings
And set my fire free!
Take me to the depths of hell,
Take me to heaven,
I dont care,
Its all the same,
Its all well!
Why do you call for me?
Why should I end your life?
Is there any reason for me?
Is there even a reason for thee?
Oh please sweet death,
Embrace me with black fire,
Take me to another place up higher!
Theres no reason for me to live on,
It went all so wrong!
You little child,
Dont demand such things from me,
I wont do you this favour.
Its not your time to go with me!
But please my dear friend,
No it must end!
Take me with you on the eternal flight,
Give me the kiss,
It is my right!
You are too young to understand,
The meaning of life and death
I cant kill people as I please,
Im not doing this with ease!
You have to help me
Or Ill gamble
Woman's WorldHe wakes upWoman's World5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and notices nothing unusual.
He wanders downstairs in skimpy pjs, switches on the radio
The breakfast show, a witty host and her regulation male sidekick-
the butt of the jokes.
The news is going, that abducted boy found dead, sexually abused, throttled
A woman helping with inquiries
Bored of the chatter he turns it off
Eats his cereal before the telly, a music channel
Women in baggy jeans singing about how nice men look
in clubs, dancing topless around holes.
He unconsciously scrutinises the semi-clad men that surround her
Winding their perfect bodies in sync to the beat, hip rolling
Looks down at his own belly, thinks, I'll skip lunch.
In the shower he shampoos his long hair,
Fretting about baldness
this constant battle with his body.
He shaves his legs, his armpits, his belly
Scans his chest and thighs for regrowth
wonders when he should next visit the salon.
He shaves his jaw.
He dresses uncomfortably
Can't buy anything without some kind of
Amazing GraceHer soft brown hair used to twist and coil down her back; mine just went straight down to my shoulders. On Friday nights, if she wasnt going out, she would patiently curl my hair with our mothers hot tongs. Dad called her Amazing Grace which made me sulk because there wasnt a song with my name in it. So he and Gracie made up a song just for me. I wouldnt accept it because it wasnt a proper song, but my smile was unstoppable when they sang it.Amazing Grace6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The day Grace went missing Mum moved into her room. She stayed there for a month never changing a thing. When the bed sheets were dirty she washed them, dried them and put them back on all in the same afternoon. The day my sisters body was found Mum moved back out, and locked the door.
She left me downstairs with Dad, and shut herself in the bathroom. Slipping into a hot bath, she let her tears mingle with the water; her sorrow seeping back into her clean skin. Dad stroked my hair and sang my song, gently rockin
lifeI have lived over a thousand years,life7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And have cried a million tears.
On this planet I walk alone,
Never able to call one place home.
I have lost everyone, I have ever known,
And out lived every plant I have ever sown.
On the day my children were born I cried,
And shed more tears the day they died.
I shall never feel the warmth of heavens light,
And shall one day walk the earth in an eternal night.
For one day the human race will be gone,
But on this earth I shall walk on.
I will think of those I have left behind,
And the happiness I could never find.
This is a fate I bare alone,
With a pain you have never known,
And I would rather die over and over again by the knife,
Then continue to live this long cruel life.
CareCare4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Severus woke up with a groan.
His head was pounding. His whole body ached. He was sure he had some bruising along his ribs if they weren't broken, and he was almost sure they were and he couldn't fix it because of his lack of knowledge in healing.
The only way to know for sure is with a visit to Poppy and the witch hadn't wanted anything to do with him in months, going as far as to tell him not to come to the hospital wing unless he was bleeding to death. Or to not even come then.
He could not go to see her.
Sighing he pushed himself up slowly, only to be greeted with a wave of dizziness, and a jolt in his stomach that had him nearly tripping over his own feet to get to the lavatory.
Five minutes later he emerged pale and sweating, his thin white shirt was soaked through and his hair was in complete disarray, more so then normal.
It was settled he was sick.
Sitting on the edge of his bed he laid his head in his hands he was tempted to not leave his chambers at all
no one knows.imagine a world in which everything hurts.no one knows.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
imagine a dappled blue-green-gray sphere of a changing globe warped by pain. in this world your emotions have been robbed by a black-clad fiend. with him he took love, desire, happiness, peace. he took in his grimy arms your most blissful memories and meaningful pastimes. he took away the good in your life.
he was careful to leave behind only the demons of the night, multiplied in their potency and frequency by the sheer wrongness of the crime itself. he made sure that, bereft of all comforts you once enjoyed, you would be haunted forever. you would have no joy to hide behind, no shield from the onslaught of gloom. he leaves, but remains with you forever.
what you once felt is numbed, frozen and buried deep in the core of some forgotten antechamber of your heart your fractured pinkish muscle that never ceases to sting you with its insistent throbbing. insistent. that's what it is. it won't just give up and die as you often wish it would
A Meeting, of SortsThe camera-man walked towards him, the discordant tinkling of its tempered steel parts almost musical.A Meeting, of Sorts6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
"What are you?" asked the man, his once brave voice reduced to nothing more than a harsh whisper. The camera-man's iris contracted in a curious fashion as it regarded him, its features so utterly alien that the man could only guess at its thoughts. Around him the world was at a standstill, as if time itself respected this creature so much as to freeze in its presence. Gone was the rhythmic ticking of the clock, gone was the insistent beep of the microwave, and gone was the shrill shriek of the kettle. There was only him and the creature, the beast, alone together in this pocket out of time with only the silence to keep them company.
The man spoke again, his voice catching in his throat like so many fettered emotions.
"What what do you want?"
The camera-man's head slowly turned to the window, followed by the man's faltering gaze. In a flash the darkene
How to kill a writerInk on a blank sheet, suck dry a bodyHow to kill a writer6 years ago in Other More Like This
through the pen sitting between a finger
and an open vein, he won't last longer
than the emptiness written about she.
Words to enlighten the path leading your
spark to the edge of the world, it's futile
when you're already falling, it's obscure.
we're losing him.
Paper to walk on like a white tile
ready to be broken by many she.
It's too late.
Used to live but forgot when he
It's too late,
You Block the AngelsYoure seeing things again,You Block the Angels7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hallucinations crowding your eyes
And blocking the angels from your vision
A cold sweat obstructing your sight
Sometimes you overdose on fright,
Sometimes the panic attacks are too frequent,
Sometimes the last prayer isnt strong enough.
Because that night five weeks
ago I rewired your heart
to connect it to your mind
and heal the broken pieces
scattered through the vastness.
But its only been thorned daisies,
and unhealed machinery
What I DoAnybody can do what I doWhat I Do4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But only I do it for you.
Whether to kiss your hair
Or win you a toy at a country fair.
I'll lay my jacket along the floor
Or just hold open a door
Everything I do is for you.
I will always be there when you want me to.
The Last Nice Guy On EarthThe Last Nice Guy On Earth5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Last Nice Guy On Planet Earth
The last nice guy on earth and me sit drinking coffee together;
we're both watching the world go by.
The view from his chair is rare and different,
but I'm not jealous, and he's not my idol.
'Cause Jesus Christ!
Who's mad enough to be a saint?
it's asking for trouble,
and doesn't he know that he's driveing me mad?
His childish smile is so frustrating.
He doesn't even know he's so unique;
it wouldn't bother him at all.
I'm drinking a black coffee and so is he,
but he drinks it better.
I wish he'd realize, the world isn't for good people.
As we're leaving he tries to pay but i don't let him.
I think it's just to prove a point yet he couldn't care less...
if it keeps me happy.