Sometimes I Let Myself Think About You Sometimes I Let Myself Think About YouSometimes I Let Myself Think About You1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sometimes I would prefer to lay back and watch the sky roll from day into night. There are moments when I can still feel your hand, wrapped tightly around my own. Not a day passes that I don't think about you. I think about the way you walk, the way I knew you were about to smile even though we were fighting. I miss your voice waking me up at three in the morning, and your stubble scratching my neck when I would curl into you.
I miss your scent. All of your shirts still hang in the closet next to my own, and all of your socks are still in the drawer next to my own, and your toothbrush still sits in the holder next to mine. But your smell has faded from your pillow and your shirts, and your socks are still paired without the proper match, because I never could get you to take the time to pair them correctly, and your toothbrush is worn out, the bristles more like old carpet, and yet I couldn't get you to buy a new one.
Now that y
No Escape No EscapeNo Escape2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"The hold is too tight
no energy to fight, what's going on inside.
I've tried my mind against my heart's jury too many times.
I'm chilled to the bone, my heart set in stone.
I couldn't run fast enough,
heart's control and a mind's love.
I'm tethered in between"
Song: Get Away
Artist: Kill The Complex
"Junko," Called a familiar voice through Junko's dreams, "Junko," the voice called again, causing the girl to stir in her sleep as the voice called once more, "Junko, wake up."
The girl let out a breath through her nose as she turned onto her back and groaned tiredly, "just a bit longer," She murmured, eyes half lidded as she stared at the ceiling.
When had I fallen asleep and why didn't I have a nightmare?
Junko asked herself and then frowned when the one who had woken her poked her cheek. "Alright," She slowly sat up after swatting the hand away, "you know," She started with a small yawn, "you have all been wanting me to get some sleep and
The Rabbit Hole Chp- 1The Rabbit Hole Chp- 12 years ago in Profiles More Like This
The Rabbit Hole Chp1
You know, I never truly realised how horrifically gruesome the end of a fruit or vegetable's life is.
I mean imagine it, one day after waking up in the morning to a peeking sun just on the horizon with a gentle wind swaying the branches of the tree you were hospitalised in your whole life (the same tree you were born in might I add) and you rest all day and night without a care in the world.
When suddenly a sensation fills your body, the same sensation as rain hitting your skin but a huge deal greater. As the sensation grows you realise that the force (whatever it is) has you in its grasp, at its mercy and you cannot move. As you panic your immobilized body can only do one thing, shine in the early summer sun.
Then, just as sudden as the sensation before, an excruciating pain erupts just above your head as the force tugs your body once, then twice, then once more again, the pain increasing as more pressure is applied to each tug. Then f
you are not for mei. you are not for me.you are not for me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were never the one for me from the beginning.
we were like paper and fire.
in the end we could only burn into nothing but ashes.
ii. i liked to dream about fairy tales and impossibilities.
you asked me whether i believed in magic,
i answered yes because i thought the living prove was right in front of me.
but you turned out to be nothing more than an illusion.
iii. we were together.
but never quite like the way of others,
because there'd always be a glass in between us.
maybe that is the reason why i couldn't feel your warmth.
iv. in the pitch of my stomach,
there's always a tinge of coldness.
over time it grew and grew,
until it eventually swallowed me whole.
v. i search for the kind of magic i seek.
but sorry babe 'cause you were never for me.
Three Ways to Succeed In LifeLive in learning;Three Ways to Succeed In Life11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Know all there is to know,
that knowing this is unknowable
and giggle at the thought.
Survive shell shots of questions
and receive a golden medal.
Have your name on fancy paper
and frame it on a wall.
Achieve a bigger number
on the corner of a sheet
and feel the warmth
in your tummy
like a freshly printed page.
but not quite satisfied.
Sit high, aim even higher.
Jump right into it;
whatever it is.
Take the certain step off of the cliff.
fall grand and wide
The deeper you drop,
the faster the wind
that rushes past your face.
The larger the breaths
the gulps and swallows
the fuller and hungrier you get.
And from fuelling
it burns ever bright, ever great.
Be that person;
a social maxim.
enjoy the company.
Any company. Every company.
Don’t puzzle yourself with fitting in
even though you do
because in the puzzle of fitting in
you’re probably the picture.
Explode in InkI want to breathe.Explode in Ink11 months ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I want to think.
My imagination is at the brink.
Trapped and locked without a key
But gone too long;
It must be free.
There was a time
it filled the air
With vibrant colours everywhere.
Bold and bright;
With shimmering might.
It glowed, it shone,
It blazed like fire
And even higher.
So high in fact
That one cursed day
The flame quite simply
And left was I in endless dark
Stopped at a park.
With other things to clog my mind
But none with vigour,
Zeal or shine.
A sad, sad era did succeed
A wounded soul,
No room to bleed.
Confined by cold
And hard distaste
A rusted trophy
Such a waste.
And sadder still,
I did not know
That I was letting it all just go.
Sinking far into the deep
And restless sleep.
So there I stayed for far too long
Bound by chains
So fearfully strong.
It struck me like a bolt
My paceless walking
At a halt
What life have I corrupted to?
To be so empty,
Locked OutI think I needLocked Out2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A pat on the head
Or someone's shoulder or hand
Or simply something sweet.
I don't know what to do
Or where to go
To find the compass
That'll lead me to you
You're a mystery
Like a locked door,
The one without a key.
Nothing at all.
I don't think I'll ever know
What's behind the door
All quiet on the Skyward frontAll quiet on the Skyward front (Cartz1)All quiet on the Skyward front2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
"Attention, airship 'Crusader'. This is captain Starlight, please switch off engines and remain neutral "
The little balloon mounted air ship coasted along the skyline, just sitting above the clouds peacefully putting along at day break. The purples and reds of the sky coated the airship's metallic rudder and sails, the light reflecting off the banisters of the catwalks exposing the rust and age of the little airship.
" Prepare to be boarded for a full ship inspection, approval and clearance "
The airship itself consisted of two balloons or 'gasbags'. These balloons were cylindrical in shape, sitting horizontally one on top of the other, each balloon spanning ten metres long and three metres wide sewn together by thick industrial strength rope. On top the balloons sat the bridge, small but concise, fitted with a navigation table, bullet proof windows and most importantly, a hammock. Above the bridge there was a recently installed c
The Rabbit Hole Chp- 2The Rabbit Hole Chp- 22 years ago in Profiles More Like This
The Rabbit Hole - Chp2
I am a door, nothing more
Not a window, not a floor
Just a door, nothing more
While the window sheds light and beauty
With radiant colours, so soft and fruity
And the ground full of carpet so smooth and silky
I the door, plain and old
Stand still and watch time go by
From morning to day, day to night
Hopes and dreams always out of sight
My job is simple, to greet incoming guests
With a friendly smile and a pepped up attitude to always look my best
"But, how can you smile or feel emotions?" You ask
"You're just a piece of wood with one simple task"
As much as it hurts, I cannot deny rules, logic or law
As grim as it may seem
I am just a door and nothing more
As Jack touched the door knob it seemed very cold, much colder than usual. Maybe it was the night air? In the middle of summer? I don't think so. Either way Jack stoped caring about the door the minute he walked through it and into his house where he would meet his demise.
Now I suppose this is part
Sometimes I'd like to thinkThat it was real; that you really existed.Sometimes I'd like to think3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That you're not just part of my imagination mixed up with reality.
I miss who I thought you were.
But I couldn't really blame you, because afterall, you've never really been that person.
You're something else entirely.
Perhaps a stranger. Someone I never knew?
But I could still see that familiar face, hear that nostalgic voice,
Yet you utter out foreign words, words that he'd never said.
But you're not him.
I miss that 'you'. I still do.
A Perfectly Nerdy BoyI want a nerdy boyA Perfectly Nerdy Boy3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
A boy who'll ask what I'm reading today
As I pull my Harry Potter hoodie
Over my head
And asks if he'd like it
A boy who knows who composed
The theme from Indiana Jones
As well as Star Wars
And perhaps Jaws as well
(That's John Williams)
A boy who has seen
Every episode of Doctor Who
And finds it cute when I quote it
Who loves evil scientists
Like Dr. Horrible and sings the duet
A boy who loves to read
Who's read all the Harry Potter novels
The Hunger Games
And all of John Green's books
And understands what he's read
A boy who'll go to the Deathly Hallows
Part II release with me
And who'll hold me when I cry
At the end of an era
He'll even feel bad himself
Because he loved it too
A boy who's a free thinker
Like I am
Who comes up with his own ideas
And doesn't believe in the
Unfair and believes in equality
A boy whom I can talk to
For hours on end
Without ever finding a lull
Because we just have so many
Things to talk about
A boy who'll help me when I write
Seven PoundsIve killed people.Seven Pounds5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I killed my wife,
Now Im alone,
I have no fight.
Now I start anew,
I follow a new path.
A path that atones,
For the past.
As a boy I had dreamt of flight,
But now my wish is to,
To those Ive cursed,
With my own bare hands,
I would leave this world,
If it was to make amends.
Each day your heart,
Comes closer to a stop.
Its beats are limited,
But mine is still yet soft.
My life is over,
Yet my beat goes on.
Yours is just starting,
But your heart does not have long.
As the moment draws,
I know what to do.
I report my own.
The creature that kills.
Now my time has come,
Yours does not have to end.
Take what was mine,
As your own.
What I have to lend.
And you will meet my eyes sooner,
Than at the end.
EnfinPatience was not my virtue.Enfin4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I wanted, I waited, I anticipated.
Pulling thoughts from a shadowy past,
just to tell the world you are now in my grasp.
Though I must rant for a bit, I do it with laughter:
It took you long enough!
It hurt you know, waiting.
But none of it matters now because you're here.
Our book is reopened.
What a beautiful sound, of old pages turning to new places.
You've come home from my mind's war.
Stay as long as you like.
His Soul Burns Brighter. His Soul Burns Brighter.His Soul Burns Brighter.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There is a boy
Who feels too much
But cannot say
What he needs to say.
So he thinks a lot
Hours and hours
And then he began to write.
He quickly writes down
What he has wanted to say:
Whispers and secrets
Love and hate
In just a few short years
He will have burned through
Thousands of papers
With a colored pen and an eager hand.
He never erases
For he loves
Each and every word
He wants his thoughts
to be blatantly heard.
His soul burns brighter
Than any of ours ever could...
We can plead and wish
But we do not have
His unique gifts.
His eyes change color
As his thoughts
Turn to writing,
For he is to paper
As thunder is to lightning.
One of these days
He will gain the confidence to speak,
His introverted ways
Will begin to decrease.
Over the years
This boy has turned into a man,
Long and swift fingers
Attached to calloused hands.
His heart has scars
Along with his ego,
But when things get bad,
In his writing he will show
If Tomorrow Never ComesIf Tomorrow Never Comes2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Author's Note: This story takes place after Mulan 2, which I do not own. I also do not own the song 'If Tomorrow Never Comes' it belongs to Garth Brooks. I would like to thank Outlaw's Daughter for beta reading for me.
It was late at night, and Li Shang was laying in bed with his new wife, Fa Mulan; well, now it was Li Mulan.
"Li Mulan. I like the sound of that," Shang said, smiling. Then he looked over at Mulan, who was fast asleep.
She had a small smile on her face, and was facing him. Shang smiled at her, and then leaned over to give her a light kiss on her forehead, careful not to wake her. Afterwards, he got up and put out the candle, then he returned back to bed and continued to watch her sleep, as best as he could in the dark.
Sometimes late at night
I lay awake and watch her sleeping
She's lost in peaceful dreams
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark
Then a horrible thought hit Shang, what if he died in his sleep? What if he never woke up in the morning? Granted, t
~2P!England and England: Opposites do not attract~~2P!England and England: Opposites do not attract~1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
-----Opposites do not attract-------
I was reading the local paper, when I happened across an ad in the paper looking for a baker. I desperately needed a job since I got laid off at my other one for reasons I shan't explain. The person who was advertising was Arthur Kirkland. "Hmm. Where have I heard that name before?" Scratching my head I sat the paper down and took a sip of my tea. While I was drinking it, I turned my attention out to the giant window. It was covered with perspiration from the humidity and rain coming down from it outside.
When I finished my breakfast, I got dressed in my normal attire. A white long sleeved button down shirt, with a pink vest, blue bow and khaki pants. Don't question me poppit. Before I left, I put on my black leather trench coat and grabbed my resume I had made so many times before, my blue with pink polka-dotted umbrella, and headed out the door. I stopped at a stop sign and looked around me. I noticed it had
The Invader falls in love Ch6The Invader falls in love Ch64 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It's a boy
As zim walked home from skool he has been thinking of how to encourage Lard Nar (leader of the Resisty) to assist him destroy every Irken that dared to laugh at him behind his back. The Resisty hated the Irkens too which meant it would be hard for zim to influence The Resisty to team up with him, a rival.
Zim signed at the last thought and open the door to enter his base; of course Gir was in the couch watching his Scary Monkey Show like always.
"Gir, was there any response from the resisty?"
"I donno" Gir said not taking his eyes from the TV.
"I thought I told you to... Oh forget it, I'll check tomorrow" Zim had a long boring day and was not in any mood to yell at Gir, instead Zim walked towards the elevator that would lead him to his room. Ever since he became a defective countless unusual changes occurred to him, he now had to do similar human habits. He had to sleep, and eat every daylight hours, and what annoyed him about his changes the most was the emotions he keeps f
this won't end up as a suicide notethere aren’t enough momentsthis won't end up as a suicide note4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
to love you, or words
in the English language to call you
beautiful. there aren’t enough
heartbeats in me to dedicate you
something you might deserve.
you can no longer lie.
a vengeful earthquake births itself inside
your unkind frame-- bones and skin and
muscle knotted together as an attempt
at something durable; but when you scream,
you don’t wake up. your world
collapses in mounting seconds. words
are a currency and you are
finally rich. you have lived
in the mouths of ghosts for so long
that you can walk through walls;
you aren’t here, you’re choking
on other planets from a lack of oxygen
and understanding. but I will love you,
I will love you; dear wallflower,
your petals are not wilted. dear
anonymous, I could give you a name.
dear hopeless, there are not enough words
in the English language for how beautiful
you really are.