colors"If I were a color,colors3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
what color would I be?
because I'm emo, right?"
because I'm sad, right?"
because I hurt myself, right?"
"I don't understand.
what they said,
everyone, every time.
If none of them
what color am I?"
What kind of blue?"
"Every kind of blue
You're royal blue
because you should be treated
as nothing less than royalty.
You're neon blue
because you're so luminous
and fun at parties,
people would have to be blind
not to see you.
You're sky blue
because you're shy and calm
and humble when the sun
shines on you.
You're midnight blue
because you're dark and sexy
in a subtle way.
You're turquoise blue
because you always go
outside the lines
on paper and in life.
You're cotton candy blue
because you're just as sweet.
You're ocean blue
because you're deep and
sometimes hard to understand
like the sea.
You're pale blue
because you're soft
and warm like a down blanket.
Why me?"What have I done to deserve this?Why me?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Please, what have I ever done wrong?
Is this some sort of punishment?
Some lesson need be learned?
I know I am not perfect
There is not a soul who is
So why persist with this torture?
Why not let me be?
Is there something wrong with my happiness?
Is there a purpose to my suffering?"
She called out to an empty room
But there was no reply
"Of course not" she whispered softly
Why is there no reason?
No cause for this discipline
Why is she the subject
There are so many men
But still she sits in silence sobbing
One question in her mind
So many ways to phrase it
But they all mean the same thing
Why must I suffer?
Why, Why me?
SecretsPlastic, hard, green, distasteful bench,Secrets1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The tree above me is much more interesting.
The tree, creaking from age, leans over,
Brushes a soft petal against my cheek which twirls and dances
For me, eventually bowing at my feet.
The tree, still bent, waits for my attention before,
Excitedly tickling my ear, it whispers secrets only I can hear.
I close my eyes,
My hands politely folded
Fingers laced together in my lap,
And nod my head in answer.
It pauses a moment -
resounding footsteps pass before it whispers its last
I, eyes closed, lean toward the great tree and whisper back
Don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets.
silly girls.you're just a plastic smilesilly girls.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and an empty heart
clinging to what you once had
searching for a meaning
you pretend to be stronger
than your fragile facade
and all the time
you're slowly breaking
so busy pretending,
you can't save yourself
The Lost GenerationIs this existence of time worth my life?The Lost Generation1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
To struggle through each day's heartache,
With all this stress and strife?
Nobody can answer this fundamental question,
How can we save the lost generation?
Is there meaning of conscious left for me?
To hurtle through every night's sickness,
Without any faith to be free?
Nobody will deny this radical emotion,
Where can we find the lost generation?
Is that suffocation of will ready to die?
To tussle through early morning's hunger,
Without the courage to cry?
Nobody shall crave this political flirtation,
Why can't we rescue the lost generation?
The Name of MiseryFeeling hollow, lost is nothing to compare,The Name of Misery2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When the one you love loves another,
The problem that when you tell your secrets,
They hurt you right back,
When no one listens long,
Only long enough to laugh,
No one can accept who you truly are,
No one even cares,
Her name is misery,
No one loves her,
The strange one,
No one would care if she died,
Not even by her own hands,
They might have a passing feeling of sorrow,
But only because another silly girl died,
Couldn't put up with mellowdramatic troubles,
Couldn't see what she had,
Even if all she has is something she hates,
lady in blackyou only walk in blacklady in black3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and god i cant understand it
because, of all the colors of the rainbow
that irradiate through you soul
you choose the only color,
that doesn't exist
and you think that pain deserves you
and you make sure it gets what it does
and trickling glinting red
only one of the colors inside you
in the form that's not meant to see
there's something not right here
there's something upside-down
and i plea you to see
that its not right but wrong
there's something not true here
and no i can't help but cry
and i know you do too.
another color that irradiates from you
that no ones meant to see
the color blue
i stay awake sometimes,
wondering why you walk in black
wondering why red deserves you
wondering why you see the color blue
and god i cant understand it.
My newest wordegsoutovit: v. - to close or exit something usually on the internet or computerMy newest word3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Mind of an ArtistI rest my arms upon blue tileMind of an Artist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And look out over water.
I've never seen a night so dark and
Yet so friendly.
Steam rises from the boiling concrete pool
I've sunk myself into.
Clouds of white float in the air
And instantly I'm transported to
A dense green forest scene
Flooded with pale fog.
I'm transfixed by this ocean
Surrounding each and every thing.
The trees part round a crystal lake
All I see is an elven place
Of mystery and joy and wonder.
I look up to the sky and see
Nothing but white.
My hand lands in the liquid blue
And I am back in my hot tub,
My fingers freezing in the pool
Swimming in the mist.
I get these visions often;
They never leave my head.
But if I was without them
I'd never get out of bed.
ReverberationReverberationReverberation2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
In the night I run away from starlight
Its source, a space-leak
Of ultraviolet love
That once upon a time
Widened my pupils
Being the most addictive
Of all treacherous dope
Beneath ebony stars we were sitting
Looking for Orion's belt
He loosened and untied it
To make love with me
I was supposed to be his muse
Like an ancient goddess
But what we had was more of Divine comedy
As Sistine chapel for god is but a living room
One of so many, one of too many...
His soft lips cracked
Of thirst and he drank me
What more - he was getting drunk
Of a spirit not meant to be bottled
We both sank into quicksand running in spirals
And for each other we disappeared behind the mirror
UntitledWords fall upon def ears known but unwanted.Untitled3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Death again knocked upon our door.
A year had flown by and our hearts were newly healed.
But to no avail as the words sunk in past the stitches,
Of our broken heart and ripped it wide open.
One word rings like a bell in my head,
Why? Why would you kill your self?
Then the pain the hurt slowly fades away,
Like the day fading into night.
All that is left to fell is numb,
With more question than answers.
The tears seem never ending,
It seems as though you may never heal.
But as the heart slowly heals again,
Stitches are place back in but sill there is a hole.
The numbness stays there at the back,
Lingering waiting for the chance to come back.
It never fades just is keep at bay,
For you have that one thing,
That thought in your mind,
To never give in and give up for nothing is worth that.
Vampire Prolog "German"PrologVampire Prolog "German"3 years ago in Settings More Like This
Der Schrei einer Frau. Tierische Geräusche. Zähne versenkten sich. Blut spritzte. Die Filmmusik schwoll an.
Sebastian schüttelte den Kopf. Die Menschen hatten ein so falsches Bild von seiner Art. Schon allein der Name! Dracula. Er verstand nicht, was die Menschen daran so faszinierend fanden. Vor dem Namen Sebastian fürchtete sich niemand. Wieso also vor einem Grafen der nicht einmal existierte? Er verstand es nicht.
Sebastian schlief weder in einem Sarg noch in einer Tiefkühltruhe. Weder verbrannte er bei Sonnenlicht noch glitzerte er wie Diamanten. Und in eine Fledermaus konnte er sich auch nicht verwandeln. Er brauchte nicht einmal Blut. Aber was er brauchte, war die Nähe und die Wärme von Menschen. Dafür verachtete er diese Art.
In der Reihe vor ihm klammerte sich eine junge Frau an ihren Freund und gab erstickte Quiek-Laute von sich. Sie beobachtete entsetzt, wie der extrem geschminkte Schauspieler seine hübsche
The Tear , Die Traene Die TräneThe Tear , Die Traene3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eine Träne rann mir über die Wange
Sie war meinem Auge entfleucht
Jedoch nichts aus Trauer
Es war eine Träne
Gleich bedeutend tausend anderen!
Sie hinterließ feuchte Linien
Auf meiner Wange
Und benetzte meine Haut.
Die Träne ... sie ist die Botschaft meiner Seele
ContainedMany times I like to be bright, even in the colorless snow.Contained2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is welcoming,
With no fear of embarrassing or judgement.
But lately I have been trapped to do as you say.
I feel like a puppet on strings,
Buried, in a grave not meant for my shape.
I want to break free again, but I do not want you to hurt me.
Being captive of my own abilities, I'm not a demonstration.
I'm scared like of what fire does to plastic.
Love is keeping me trapped.
All is better when you force me to obey.
All is regretted when I walk away.
I am a contained flower surviving in a dead temperature.
Trying breath the air I have no money to pay for.
Accepting that this is what love has all to offer.
Die EngelDie EngelDie Engel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In ihrem Element
So sind sie unter uns
Schatten unserer Selbst!
APH: I hate everything about youI hate everything about you.APH: I hate everything about you2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I hate everything about you.
I hate your self-confidence.
I hate when you say you're an artist, so you need to be treated better.
I hate to see, how happy you can be without me.
I hate when you play games with me.
I hate when you say you don't need me.
I hate when you treat me like a little child.
I hate when you open your mouth just to say how awesome are you.
I hate your pride, your 'young-masterness', your stubbornness, your emotional way of living.
I hate that you never say anything nice to me.
I hate your music.
I hate that you always compare me to you.
I hate when you play the piano instead of talking to me.
I hate that I'm always worse than you.
I hate when you prefer your classical music collection than the song I write especially for you.
I hate when you make fun of me.
I hate that you can always see my mistakes, even if no one else can see them.
I hate to make you sad.
I hate yo
Mirrors from Afar -Chapter 22Peter got home after half an hour, taking advantage of the early time to take a walk around and clear his head. Or at least think calmly without any interruptions. Even after something so abnormal to him, he still felt strangely calm as he walked through the quiet streets until he reached his house. It wasn't particularly cold that night, only a light breeze gently pushing his hair back as he walked. He figured that any other guy would just think of the date he just had, wondering if he had done well, how the goodnight kiss felt yet all he could think about was his best friend. As if he had already forgotten about his outing with Claire. While he was with her he had pushed it to the back of his mind, but now he had no choice but to think about their fight. The more time passed the guiltier he felt, and the more anxious he got. What if he had lost Matt for good? What if he tried to fix it and it would be too late?Mirrors from Afar -Chapter 223 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
No, I won't accept this.
Once he got inside, he evaded h
A peaceful CoveA peaceful Cove3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A peaceful cove, in mind or place, is where we rest the soul.
A tiny corner of the world, more precious than pure gold.
Pride is tilled, fears are stilled, trust unveils the deep,
trust not in one's own weak strength, but trust in greater things.
Things that ebb, things that flow, mysteries touched, but never known.
Far: the distance one can get, from towering heights, to serene depths.
From sun filled lands, and pure white shores, to the thrilling contents behind closed doors.
Cherished places, come and gone, sometimes things don't last that long.
Worn out shoes, Vacant faces, maps uncharted, empty vases.
Glasses half full, silver linings, it all depends upon the timing.
Appreciation comes from loss, you can't know warmth, til after frost.
Or life's full gift, til after theft, you vainly walk, despise each breath.
People are such silly things, to sinking ships they sadly cling, they see a lost soul writhe in pain, then ask themselves, "what can i gain?"
A warning sign is just advice,