if love is blind, stab my eyesOh, all the glorious tragedies I'veif love is blind, stab my eyes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
seen today, all within ten minutes:
A guy holding a bouquet. An expected
box of European chocolates shaped
like a heart, naturally. A stuffed
bear. A couple holding hands. A boy
kissing his girlfriend's soft cheek.
A girl carrying pink balloons. Oh.
I'm alone, naturally. How awkward.
Eyelid umbrellas hold back rain,
torrents of gushy-mushy romance.
A metaphoric flood; stormclouds.
Walking from Point Envy to Point
Facing down, arms crossed. Eyes
on the ground. Please, no optic
tidalwave leakage. What's this?
Stop: step on a blue candyheart.
Facing down, thank God. Thank
God, not Cupid. Not that dumb
St. Valentine. Not a cordiform
morsel of sugary conversations,
spreading one-liners older than
this holiday. Kiss Me. Miss me.
XOXO. Love Ya. Detour: stomp.
Saccharine aorta vs. my shoe heel
(not Achille's, but same difference)
What? You want to know who won?
Are you kidding? Y
Gutter- CaughtNemi crept into the room, keeping her eyes underneath the swaying cloth to check for any shadows that would signify a guard, or, worse, the captain. She reached the desk, finally, and looked down at it- the desk was made of a dark brown, almost black wood, with designs on the sides and fronts of the drawers set into the sides of the desk. Nemi could tell with one glance that this desk was expensive. The kind of desk that she doubted could be afforded when one was making a living transporting food to and from markets.Gutter- Caught4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Calm down, she told herself, so he inherited a nice desk or something. Don't be rash.
Because sneaking into a guarded ship in the middle of the night isn't rash. A rather sneaky voice in her head sarcastically noted.
Nemi ignored this revelation and her trepidation over the desk and began slowly opening the drawers in the sides of the desk, seeing as the top was bare save for a flickering candle and an ornate wax seal. The first drawer she tried opened
Gutter- Potatoes Loch, many years ago, had discovered that he was a morning person. This was to the dismay of his father, who, despite having to wake up early most mornings, had always been more partial to sleeping late. Loch had made it a habit of running to his father's bedroom and jumping onto his bed to wake him up as a morning ritual. At least, a ritual until his father ordered Opello to keep Loch occupied when he woke up in the mornings.Gutter- Potatoes5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Now, however, Loch knew that his perception of a morning person and Nemi's were entirely different. At least, he thought as he fumed into his pillow, I woke up with the sun, and not before. Nemi had woken him a few moments ago, reminding him cheerfully that he had offered to help Min this morning. Loch lay still for a few more moments, grumbling quietly to himself, before pushing himself up and swinging his feet off the bed, shivering a little when they touched the cold floo
Gutter- The LenoreThe Laughing Sailor was, in Loch's opinion, the perfect example of a tavern- at least, the kind his father had warned him to stay away from. So, naturally, it lifted his spirits a little to go inside. Most of the men were already roaring drunk, a few girls were sitting in the laps of strangers and giggling foolishly, and Loch was certain that there was a brawl beginning in the corner of the room.Gutter- The Lenore5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
This was soon confirmed when one of the men threw another onto a table, sending crockery and mugs clattering everywhere, while the surrounding people began egging the two on.
"Over here," Nemi said, pulling him towards the barman, an ugly fellow with dark eyes and very little hair left. He leered at Nemi as they approached, and gave her a condescending snort when they were in front of him.
"Wha' ya want now, girl?" The man asked her, reaching down and beginning to clean out a glass in a dirty pail of water that he had set under the bar.
"Oh, nothing much," Nemi replied airily, gesturing
4 seasonsEarly March4 seasons4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The crystals of the frost lies upon
the small wonders, underneath,
a birthday cake out on a bench,
cold trembeling fingers light candles,
a rose red mouth blow them out,
the sun shines through the bare
branches, soon filled with shade
for the lovers,
a birthday wish for warmer weather
and complete hearts
the lovers entwine.
Asphalt wet, flower scents,
warm drops on my face,
summer warmth all around,
jackets still on hangers,
I dance ahead,
you look at me, smiling,
I turn around and laugh,
asphalt wet, flower scents,
warm drops on my face,
summer warmth all around.
F A L L
A moist scent flies over the streets,
the fragile gold fall, get caught
in the winds,
a nervous hand clutches another,
gloveless and warm
despite the rain,
the sky paints with grey,
while the asphalt points the way
to Oz; I think it's fall.
Lie here next to me when the snow ravage the land
and the roses wi
deliverance does not come,as does the bell-boy from his duties,deliverance does not come,6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rough-boned burly man from his cell.
with the calendar days deemed ignorant,
the time-clocks cloak themselves. from what?
natural disasters are nothing, nothing I say,
compared to cold metal making nests
within a womb. and men, are wild -
run rampant through the night,
start fights, take heaven to tired veins and
in blind glory, ignite.
Love on a roof topI want to climb up a roof top with youLove on a roof top4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to watch the sunset, starry night and sunrise
with my head on your shoulder
and your hand in mine - all entwined,
I wouldn't care about hunger, pain or sorrow,
I would just sit there and watch nature's play
from spring to summer to autumn to winter.
If it would rain I would kiss you dry, if it snowed
I would take away the snowflakes in your hair
and if it stormed I would come closer to share
If you would scream I would scream with you,
if you would talk about nothing and everything
I would talk too and if I would see something
I would point it out so you could see it too.
So I don't care how many years it would be, or
how long our hair and toe nails would become,
I would sit there with you and talk or be silent
- all entwined, just as one.
Gutter- Chapter One Looking around the large tunnel she was currently in, she decided against moving him up the stairs and onto above ground. She doubted, if she was found by any guards, that they would believe her tale of how she came to find him. And Nemi didn't fancy being blamed for whatever mess she had stumbled upon, especially with him being who he was- at least high class, but he could even be...Gutter- Chapter One5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Banishing the thought and considering the boy critically, Nemi reached down and wrapped her arms under his shoulders and attempted to hoist him up, giving a squeak of surprise when she realized that he was heavier than he looked. She adjusted him a bit before spotting something on the ground near him- the piece of parchment the other man had been holding earlier. Setting him back on the ground, she picked it up and unfolded it, eyebrows raising in surprise at the letters scribbled onto it. It was written in a strange, flowing letteri
not the usualtoday i looked in the mirror and i saw thatnot the usual5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am growing up. it was the saddest thing
i have ever had to see
i remember the day i started growing up. i was
six or seven, and my daddy let me loose on the
four wheeler in the backyard. what an american childhood
anyway i was wearing a pink shirt and jeans
and i was singing a song to myself and it was about
jumping off a bridge in chicago. it's not that i
was really aware of suicide or love or anything,
just that something could make a person want to be
in the water so bad that they jumped off a bridge
and suddenly they were happy even though they weren't breathing.
it was kind of like that
and here i am! here i am. i have had four people know me enough
to call me fire or bitch or buddy or baby. one is gone one is
casual one is part of my soul and the other is one hell of a trip,
and i'm still on it. i have bled to bleed,
fucked to fuck, and lied to feel better. i have cried over dead
cats and fish and dumb dogs. i have mastered calculus a
EmotionWithin a drop -Emotion5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an unknown world,
by the burning sun,
a fall from the cheek
to the cloth, a drop no more
a thousand worlds
more to come, they run,
get preyed upon
a feast for the cloth,
a scream from the eye.
ComposedI never knew blue could be so warm.Composed5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A moth to a flame -
no, that's too cliché
A tranquilizer gun to the heart
ready, aim -
Fire of the bluest kind
Warm with laughter, but still
You burned me.
Please, never say my name again.
I'm still trying to get your eyes out of my head
And I can still hear your words as if they're ringing out right now.
Don't say my name.
I'm SICK of playing games.
I hope you know that I miss you
And I hope you know I don't want to
But secretly, I hope you miss me, too.
You taught me many things in the few months that I knew you
about life, about love, about desires
But the most important thing I learned
is to never play with fires.
My heart has always been a fortress
to the ones I love, and to those I hate
No one has ever figured out how to penetrate my gates.
You simply climbed my walls.
I remember back before I met you
I was much the same in nature, but innocently blind
you showed me the world
and opened up my eyes
with your fire
ThoughtLabel says take half,Thought5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
take two for 'luck',
If the thoughts don't come
neither will anything else.
Keeping your demons at bay
with one bottle or another.
Seeing everything falter
lose its place in time,
the thoughts are going to get worse now.
Funny how the mirror lies
and depth is obsolete,
shallow eyes, just for you.
'Capitulate before you lose!'
What kind of bull shit is that?
Twisting arms, philosophies,
morals and values.
'Don't accept what's different!'
'Hurt what you don't understand!'
charlotte.the daydream perches on my window sill,charlotte.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
singing its pretty melody, eyes closed,
with an entire summer sky stretched out behind it.
all i hear is last night when the other one was here.
the harsh wails of the dark haunt that pierces me
deep in the night when i was still tangled in angry dreams.
i am sure the yellow-breasted bird knows this.
it knows that all i can hear are the broken strings
and that my skin can never feel its soft feathers
the way it still remembers the vivid nightmares'
black, blood drawing claws and all its raw scars
so somewhere in its song there is pain
perhaps fresher than those on my skin.
but who's to hear? my senses have been stolen
and there's not a shred of heart left in me
to feel sorry for you.
it's always the growing fearWhen its impossible to be with that someone you can be at the top of the world and still feel inside as if you're falling into an empty expanse, a deep pit, it's hell blinding you, it's images of his unstoppable smile, it's images of his hands, it's images of the arch of his eyebrows and it's the possibilities and venturous thoughts about him that end up in the end of nothing where nothing is ever true and every hypothesis ends with a bad answer with a thousand proofs and two hundred scientists shaking their head, or it's just the lamp and the lonely water bottle who shake with the table as fists pound and rip ugly hair from ugly skulls and pens inking their life on the polished wood, it's the dawning blue, it's the endless streetlights, it's the jogger whizzing by, it's the guards in the red hats who think they are everything, and we're nothing, we aren't, and the knowing that we'd never see each other again, and the possibility and the impossibilities and the doubts and the wonders ait's always the growing fear5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
:in between words and worlds:i.:in between words and worlds:4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
With amorphous regret in my mind and genesis in my notebook I turn the page and there is the hateful etching of your name a hundred times over and over until its engraved on my wrists and under my eyelids, those crimson marks dispersing into atoms when I close my eyes, there is the slight tremble of the summer leaves and the south birds migration, there are the salmons leaping in ocean's tears and mountain's streams and there are cars whizzing by the empty voids between our words and worlds.
To you, words exist in worlds
And to me worlds live in the existence of words
But you'll only frown and turn away, and accuse me of being philosophical and boring.
Because maybe that's what I am, a cluster of clashing words,
Clashing worlds when I shut my eyes
And clashing sounds like soap water when I just l i s t e n .
In the translucent yellow of this candlelight, the lisp of words soften to words sifting above whispers, and in vain I sketch in my mind the shape of your smi
Let's PlayLet's play and awful gameLet's Play4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where I say I love you
Just to feel something for a while
And then leave you
The moment I can
Let's lie to one another
To get away from what we want
When we feel tired or cold
We'll get together
And screw around to feel human again
Let's go behind each other's backs
And spread lies about our relationship
Making sure the other one never knows
How we really feel
About life, love, and where we're going
Let's make everyone mad
That we're so "happy"
When they're so alone
Making-out to make a show
Sneaking off to make them wonder
Let's break our hearts
Open on rocks for all to see
That it hurt
Even if I really feel nothing
Because I'm not human anymore
Let's play an awful game
SomeoneDo you know what it's like to look in the mirrorSomeone5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And hate what you see?
To look into your own eyes,
To find them filled with tears,
To beg to be different
To be skinny, pretty,
To be someone that can be loved,
To be someone who I can love.
149.Sometimes when we touched149.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
everything became a blur
of perfect stillness
Asphyxiated HarmoniesVerses used to spin inside my head. They would reverberate with lacerated tones, jaded emotions, and faded colors...endless fragments that I couldn't capture between my frail, fragile fingertips because no one wanted to hear them anyway.Asphyxiated Harmonies5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Even if I wanted to write them down.
Eclipsing endlessly inside, they would spiral together shadows of the future and regrets in a tapestry we all call "the past," forging unsettled harmonies. Note by note. Word by word. Pitches...all marked their place on the treble staff and allowing others only to build upon the fractured foundation of splintered minor seconds and diminished minor chords that allowed themselves to decay into the empty space behind the keys of the piano.
I'm telling you this, because you've upset the rhythm in my head.
You've upset the clear beats of 4/4, and turned it into a syncopated 15/8, in which I have no control over. The rhythm upset my soul and my
Hygiene du nihiliste (warphorisme XXXIX)Pourquoi courir à sa perte ? Parce qu'avec de l'élan, un plongeon, ça a quand même plus de gueule...Hygiene du nihiliste (warphorisme XXXIX)3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
150.She said: "Dreams unwind"150.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
and they all unravelled
just as she predicted
what humans do0:00what humans do5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she met him when she was fifteen, stupid, and willing to do anything to get out of her own head. it was winter, new snow sticking to the ground in snowbanks - like a naked blanket, cold on cold with ice. houses were lined up on the streets, chimneys blaring smoke, colors sticking out against the sky's dull grays. cars rolled by, marking the streets all with the same, parallel tracks, like fingerprints with chains attached. thick exhaust fills her senses.
he seemed weird to her. not because of his cocky, laid-back appearance, but because of the complete fresh and virgin ardor he gave her. it wasn't that kind of sense you get when you're born - the average, cliche smell, taste, touch, sight - but when you pass the age of twelve or thirteen.
he was the untouchable, the near-unforgivable. the sweet fruit to adolescence. the thing you taste when you want something new - lips on lips, tongues tying, tugging on piercings - the umph to the skinny jeans, the belt loops
LightlostHardheaded autothoughtLightlost4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
puddles the nighttime sky
though bright Arcturus sinks
to meet Capella in the east.
The moon will be new,
all indignant ballast
as you bend compromise
around its weakest point.
pours his final summer
from a steeply tilted spout.