The Boy Who Cried TrollfaceCome, come dear children!
Please sit and listen,
While I tell you a story
Of upmost sadness and glory!
Childrenplease settle down
And don't make a sound!
Hear the tale of a boy who couldn't be found
Because he cried, "Trollface!"
All around his house, in the countryside, and up into space!
Ever since the day Billy was born,
His face had been long and forlorn.
Everyone, he told himself, was out to get him.
Everyone put themselves out on a whim
With a big, nasty grin.
They all wanted to test his ignorance and make his face dim,
Make him less glad
And ask, "You mad?"
Yes, this was Billy's mindset,
And nothing could change it.
His mother, who was greatly distressed,
Would ask her son to get dressed.
Billy would scream, "I know how to dress myself, Trollface!"
And promptly break a vase.
Billy would be walking to school,
And the crossing guard would stop the traffic pool.
Halfway across the street,
Billy would stomp his feet
And turn around with disgrace,
Yelling, "I can st
it's been 6 months without youdon't you hate dreamingit's been 6 months without you4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of a former crush or love
whom you have not seen
since last june?
especially if in your dream,
your nine-month obsession
still won't acknowledge you
or your petty feelings. even
though you have unfinished
don't you hate when nightmares
remind you of someone who you
thought you were over? why do
i subconsciously remember you?
why can't i forget you? i thought
i had closure. i guess not.
i guess i never will.
these are the last things i'll say before i'm goneIf I had to give a name to what I'm feeling I would just call it disappearing. Because it's exactly like the way that you can know everything about someone one day and nothing the next. It's the quick death love has that leaves you wanting more or wanting it back in the best and worst of ways.these are the last things i'll say before i'm gone3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
If I had to explain I would say this feeling is something like standing outside of your door at four in the morning, even though I know I shouldn't be here, wearing the same wrinkled clothes I had on the day before, wanting nothing more than to beg to come home, but knowing better, because following the motions isn't really the best follow through.
I won't admit how much I miss you I can't, but I can tell you this.
The thing about disappearing is that it doesn't stop me from wanting to be completely impossible to forget. And maybe that's a bit of an anomaly, but I've never made much sense to begin with anyway.
And sure, we're all different in the same ways, but I want to be differen
You're the reasonYou're the reason I'm picked onYou're the reason6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But you've long since gone
I'm your son
And look what you've done
You divorced mom when I was child
You have my number, but you've never dialled
I used to lie awake at night
In hope not spite
That you'd walk back through the door
Just set foot on my floor
Now I lie awake at night scared
Getting ready, getting prepared
Prepared for if you walk through the door
Prepared for if you come back to cause more
More destruction to little old me
For I no longer know who you are or what you may-be
I'm only seventeen yet that information is long-since lost
Like a whisper in the wind or a friend double crossed
I have but two memories of you with the family and such
And even remembering them is too much
Too much for me too handle
Feeling alone, like a solitary candle
And you wouldn't care if I burnt and faded away
You woudn't even know, because you didn't stay
You don't even send money to help us along
Just left us, but we're united, we're strong
We make it through li
September 1st, 2009.it was September &September 1st, 2009.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this time you were dying for real
& I couldn't stay. I spent
my whole life learning to say
goodbye to you,
folding paper cranes
out of waiting room brochures about
& antibacterial soap. you remembered
the songs we used to sing, but not
my name, whispering goodbye,
don't leave me, goodbye until I did,
& then you screamed. screamed. &
it followed me, stayed with me
for all this time, along with the one
gentle hand on my shoulder, a woman
I'd never met, squeezing once.
I love that hand. the one
that still helps me carry you, even
after all these years.
The Memory "Promise?" She asks.The Memory4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Swear." He murmurs, and she smiles, because she thinks she's heard the right answer. But she hasn't. He doesn't make promises he knows he can't keep. But she's never known.
"Will you love me forever?" Her soft voice is like a breeze, rushing into his ears.
"Forever's a long time." He tells her, and he thinks he might be hurting her.
"I know." He can hear the hurt in her voice. "You don't think you'll love me that long?"
"I'm not sure, flower." And he hears her take a deep breath. He wants to assure her everything's going to be okay, but he can't promise things he knows he can't keep.
"Promise me something." I hear her voice whisper and I hope she didn't feel me tense.
"I don't know if-" I start to say, but she cuts me off.
"Do you even love me anymore?" Her voice
Catch-22Father,Catch-223 years ago in Letters More Like This
I write you in small font because you're dwindling before my eyes. You used to be golden with life, happy, laughing; when did you allow yourself to fade? You used to be as magnificent as the Grand Canyon, a little worn, perhaps, but still unbreakable, carrying me with strong gentle arms like the river that shaped you. When did you become a mere crack in the sidewalk that I must jump over, careful not to shatter your spine. When did I start avoiding you and finding it hard to answer your questions? When did you turn into Father instead of Daddy?
I guess what I'm asking is this: did you change, or did I?
I know you asked for a poem, but I don't write about that stuff anymore. I can't compose "happy" things, because I honestly don't know what that feeling feels like anymore. It's really scaring me, dad, but I must confess that I don't know what I feel most of the time: happiness? Joy? Maybe I'm just such a good pretended that I've convinced myself too. All I know is that I
The SeagullThe SeagullThe Seagull5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
So far from the ocean
can be seen your whitened wings
even in the greyest sky
you never cease to sing
Your feathers bleached by summer sun
and smoothened by rainfall
your voice is loud so all the world
can ever hear you call
You are like me, a wanderer
with nowhere to return
knowing that each different sea
is something new to learn
Take me, oh friend seagull
on a journey cross the seas
fly me through the rasping gales
and storms you pass with ease
I want to see the ocean waves
crest and spray the ship
I want to see the faraway lands
you visit on each trip
But tell me, little seagull
do you never tire of flight
do you never wish to settle down
and sleep a bit at night
For though the journey gives you joy
as below the waters foam
when others stop, you must continue
for wanderers have no home
And when you sing so loudly
is it really joy youve cried
or is it just to shut away
the loneliness inside
wasting usi want you, okwasting us3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i want you to be on your knees
all scraped and red and raw
like you're a child again
because that's all you ever
i want you to be aching
the way i've been aching
since the last rays of summer
said goodbye to us,
goodbye to us
and i want you to never forget
that just because
you don't remember my birthday,
that doesn't mean
forget the feel of my skin
for the first time
and that someday
this memory will stop hurting.
it never will,
and i promise you this:
every time it crosses your mind-
while you wait at the bus stop,
during a chemistry exam,
the next time a girl touches you
with her heart and not just her fingers-
every time it crosses your mind,
you're going to remember me
in extraordinary detail
and see me
like the extraordinary person
that i am,
Does it matter?Girlfriend or BoyfriendDoes it matter?6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Does it really matter?
All I want is to dance
under the stars
~ i l o v e
A HugA hug can say a thousand wordsA Hug8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A hug can say a single word
A hug can mean a thousand things
A hug can mean completely nothing
A hug can be intentional
A hug can be by chance
A hug can tell everything
A hug can tell not a word
A hug is all of these and more
A hug is all I yearn
BeautyReal beauty is lost forever,Beauty8 years ago in Open More Like This
When measured in perfection.
i'm contradictory at best.i wonder what it's like to look into your face and not want to spill every secret i've ever had. i want to be startlingly indifferent. i want to say i don't care and mean it. i want to be reckless in more than that jaywalking every morning on my way to work sort of way. i want to say something that will completely change the course of everything forever. i want to be the sort of thing people need to invent a new word for, because "cataclysmic" won't cover what a disaster i am.i'm contradictory at best.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i want to be someone new.
i worry about why the air always tastes several degrees colder than your skin. i know there's a correlation that i haven't figured out yet, but my mind doesn't work fast enough to make the connections anymore. i worry that all the synapses are breaking apart and my brain is shutting down. i worry that i'm dying in slow motion from the inside out so no one can even tell. not that anyone would care, but i worry about the most absurd of things. and then i worry that i don't worry enough abo
The SilverfishThe SilverfishThe Silverfish11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Awkward on a metal wire mesh chair
In a restaurant's outdoor section,
I must have been forgotten.
When the café closed the night before
There were no nameless patrons inside
Needing a polite request to leave,
And the waiter, absentminded, locked up,
Leaving me alone to the quieting night.
My rainy city dawn wakes me slowly,
Cold and glistening with dew.
"Where is the crème brûlée I ordered?"
I demand sleepily to the empty gray streets.
Instead I receive crystal droplets
Rolling off the red and white awning above me.
An old man wanders by on cobblestone,
Entertaining himself with philosophical conversation
With the memory of his deceased wife by his side.
He stops by the cracked window
Of an abandoned and forgotten antique store,
And inquires of the dust through the glass
How business has been lately.
Two stories up, mutterings of the old man
Have awakened a newlywed couple
Shivering from the chill of the window
Accidentally left open, forgotten in last night's pas
freudian slipsWhat I should have said wasfreudian slips6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hello, you are gorgeous.
You were walking the corridors and I was leaning against a table and putting pressure on the screws and smiles holding up your defenses. You had no words spilling from your eager mouth, and my lips were all too happy to toe the line between suave and smug. There was something in the way you blushed when you divulged your name that made my heart skitter with nostalgia and optimism for tomorrow, but my larynx was conspiring to condemn me, drinking deep from the fountain of cynicism.
What I said was
What I should have said was
Your smile is contagious.
In the corners of my eyes, on the corner of a street, I watched your smile disappear behind teasing fingers, the curve of your mouth timid and hesitant to turn. You laughed at every stitch-and-scab sentence that I managed to produce, and every time my tongue began to twitch I gnashed my teeth to hold back my words. I prayed that I
Beyond Absolution: ProloguePrologue: Sweet Raptured LightBeyond Absolution: Prologue6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I broke the surface of consciousness like a drowning man. Gasping thin breaths, I strained for air against the angry band of pain that crushed my throat to the width of a narrow reed. My fingers felt as thick as sausages as I dug them into the rope. A weak, phlegmy cough rasped air painfully past my throat, dragging me back towards unconsciousness as the pain threatened to spill over.
Im dying, screamed the wild part of my brain. Im dying Im dying Im dying Im dying!
Darkness blurred the corners of my eyes; coughs wracked my body, doubled me over on the floorboards. My pale, snatched breaths werent enough to save me; they just prolonged the inevitable, kept me conscious as I scrabbled about my neck, tugging desperately at the rope that cut into me like fire. A heavy knot was tied at the base of my skull. With my last reserves of
FinaleEven as I stare down at the divorce papers--the endnote severing what few connections Hayden and I have left--it doesn't feel done. And by 'it,' I don't know what I mean. I can't quite pinpoint any cause, but I know I feel awkward. Like my skin is pulled too tight against my muscle and bone.Finale5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We met our sophomore year at Potsdam. It was late spring. Some friends and I went camping up on the Saint Lawrence near Massena. Long story short: I'm a klutz. My bike washed out as I hit a patch of loose gravel, and I ended up in a deep part of the river. Every drop of water that touched my skin felt like a laceration. It wasn't long until I'd lost feeling in my arms and legs. I remember looking at my friends looking back at me, just standing there, making no attempt to save me. I remember a stranger shoving them aside as he jumped in and swam me to shore. Started a fire with a lighter, some twigs, and his coat. Told me stories of him and hypothermia until my limbs were hot with the new rush of bl
Le SuccubeLe SuccubeLe Succube6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was late on a snowy February night when the knock sounded. The young farmer was a bit apprehensive, but stood to open the door. Outside stood a lovely young woman with long hair of silvery gold and blue-green eyes as clear as a lake in the sun. She wore a dress of night blue. Good evening, miss, the young man said.
Good evening, she replied, I am a traveler. May I stay here for the night? I dont really have anything to pay you
Come in. The farmer poured her a cup of tea from his kettle as she sat beside the fire and lessened her shivering. They were both silent while she drank. Odd, how the tea sent warmth through her body, warmth she had never felt before. Finally, the young man began again. If you dont mind my asking, miss, may I ask who you are?
She told him one of her usual lies, about her mother dying and how she was searching for her uncle but did not know where he lived. When she f
- Why -- Why -11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I thought I knew you.
I though you knew me.
Why is it when you need help you ask for me?
Yet your not there for me?
All I wanted was a hello,
but why do you make me feel alone?
Who do you think I am?
Do you not know of my powers?
Why do you treat me like dirt,
and step all over me?
If you want I can be your friend.
I will never leave you,
but you have left me.
Give me a sign,
let me know if you want to go.
Let me know if you don't want me as a friend,
since I am still waiting.
the letteron the day it was so hot thatthe letter3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
even the mosquitoes slept under sunflower shades
and the flies swam through the air like
lethargic sea monsters in miniature,
the boy wrote her a letter.
You make me smile. You remind me of dewy grass
and frothing river water and macaroni and cheese and the colour yellow.
I want to spend the rest of my life counting your paprika freckles and drawing
on your forearms with thick black markers so that everyone knows that you're
mine. I want to show you the rings of saturn and swim with you in water from
mars, and trace our superimposed bodies on butcher paper.
I want you to never stop loving me.
or maybe it didn't. maybe it actually said
I hate your glass frozen cheekbones and your melancholy
crooked promises. I want you to open your mouth and let the ocean
roll in, because that way it might scour your insides and remove my imprint
from your throat and your lungs. Maybe one day you'll realise how much
you hurt me with your bladed