The Hardest WordTo say goodbye,The Hardest Word3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's not the hardest word.
My honesty is all but broken,
And I look away with eyes so blue,
I cannot say with these tears I cry.
To say sorry,
It's not the hardest word.
My ignorance only leaves you shattered,
And I know in my heart so black,
I should apologise but I'd rather fly.
To say no,
It's not the hardest word.
My addiction drives you insane,
And I feel that my ears bleed so red,
As I struggle to answer your one question: why?
My Own Self-DestructionThere are things about meMy Own Self-Destruction4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I just can't control
The shame makes me want
To crawl in a hole
I rely on you more
Than you'll ever know
It'd be better for you
If I were to go
I know I'm a burden
Don't bother denying
But I can't seem to shake this
No matter how hard I'm trying
The guilt causes pain
And so does the fear
The voices inside
Are all I can hear
All of these things
Make it so hard to function
I am the cause
Of my own self-destruction.
Seafoam and Ash IIA girl once told me she was conceived by the ocean. "By" not "beside" her skin was the color of new seafoam and you could follow her green eyes into the deeps and drown there. She had a soft, papery voice that sighed in and out and dark hair that cascaded past her shoulders like dried seaweed.Seafoam and Ash II3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She was born along the sea strand, where the ocean met solidity and pounded it into tiny grains. Perhaps she was delivered in a clump of seaweed or crawled her way out of a pink conch shell and learned to swim before learning to walk. She carried an air of calm serenity that rippled around her like an aura wherever she went, content to flow instead of fight.
Her name was Naida.
I met a boy born from the fire tailing comets rushing through the atmosphere. His hair was a shock of red swinging upward and he lit up entire rooms with his presence. He always spoke a little too fast, the words rushing from his mouth like sparks off a firecracker, flickering and dancing. His
Queen of GeeksUnexpected end to kidnapping caseQueen of Geeks3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
[Sunnyvale Tribune 23 Feb 2007]
In an unexpected development, police have closed the case against the kidnapper of twenty year old Nicole Cantrip. 'The circumstances surrounding Miss Cantrip's alleged disappearance have become clearer,' Inspector Frank Jones told the Tribune, 'and it's come to light that the case was filed in error. There is no evidence whatsoever that a kidnapping took place.' Since Cantrip is over eighteen, the applicable missing person legislation is almost non-existent, much to the dismay of her mother.
'Something has gone horribly wrong when a girl can be forced away from her family by people she's never met and it's called normal,' said a tearful May Cantrip. 'Nix wouldn't have abandoned us, dropped out of all her classes and left everything behind unless
somebody was forcing her.' Mrs. Cantrip claims that her home was invaded by several men who demanded that her daughter accompany them to what she describes as 'a k
The UndesirableThe most undesirable creatures of this earth do not bear claws --The Undesirable4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they are adorned with silk,
and they reveal no flaws.
On Becoming a Rock StarFive years ago, I played music to anyone who listened. I never asked for money, never went to bars or clubs or took gigs. I'd play for a slice of pizza or a high five.On Becoming a Rock Star3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I played because music breathed for me. I loved to watch people listen, to watch the paradoxes in their eyes as note after note took them from mountaintop to ocean, forced them to feel joy and pain, fulfillment and longing, love and betrayal all at the same time.
I met Emily one day in the park across from the university. I sat on a concrete picnic table under a towering oak picking at a guitar with whatever melody came to mind. The minute she walked by, I smelled wildflowers. Emily smelled like wildflowers, and her presence washed over me like wind ruffling the edges of my hair.
For two weeks I came back to that spot at the same time every day. I played and waited until wildflowers and wind trembled in my fingers and I caught her walking by. "Wait! I'mI'm sorry, but you well, could I just sing a song for you?
Think or Feel?Dear Heart,Think or Feel?3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I want my head.
Manual of Parenting, article #1Congratulations, baby arrived!Manual of Parenting, article #13 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
No returns policy.
Missing youThe hair raises on the back of my neckMissing you3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as your breath brushes softly against it.
I feel your arm, strong and dependable
wrap around my middle, pulling me close.
A smile is painted on your tender lips
when your cheek nuzzles against mine.
And when I open my eyes,
I could still feel your phantom touch.
Almost as if, you had truly been there.
Grandmother Spider Bears the Weight of the SunDecember.Grandmother Spider Bears the Weight of the Sun3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The solstice smells of wet soil.
A rising sea of dusk washes over her,
pressing on her mind
like her fingers press the lump of clay in her palm.
Grandmother keeps her hands busy,
forces nervous tremors into the small vessel
emerging like a snake
from the earth.
A bundle of flowers had held the sweat of her hands.
The trip to the hospital bore the scent of old leather,
worn bus seats
and lilies too long without water.
He'd been badly burned, they said.
His fingertips were flame-marked,
smooth and new-pink
when they came to change his bandages.
Grandmother flexes her parchment fingers.
Clay rims her wrinkled knuckles,
turns her hands to dusty grey spiders.
She clings to her secrets so tightly
her hands start to burn.
Her feet take her across the road from the bus stop.
In the Oklahoma fields, the long grass breaks against her legs,
the winds drag a tide toward her.
No moon rises tonight.
Grandmother lifts her eyes from the little clay pot in her hands,
eyes the stars
and the st
AvianYou used to tell her she had bird bones -Avian3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it was only a joke,
but you would hold her tightly
so she could not fly away.
Now you carry starlings in your pockets
to feel their little hearts
fluttering much like hers did
when you lay your head upon her chest,
heart beating the way yours did,
before she flew away with it
as you always knew she would.
Tonight you are haunted
by a swan with a broken neck.
It is a dream,
just a nightmare,
but you know that it is her...
She has returned to you
decked out in feathers,
choking on a heart,
and you're frightened as hell
at how god damn beautiful
she is in broken symmetry,
but you find relief in your fistfuls of feathers.
The Mushroom Forest Chapter 8The Mushroom Forest Chapter 85 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Demetri's eyes flew open. This was the fourth time he had woken up in the middle of the night. His scrapes were killing him. "Ugh!" He shifted painfully and nudged Serendipity to wake her.
Opening one eye to look up at the boy, she tiredly asked, "What do you want, Demetri? It's kinda the middle of the night right now..."
"Well, uh..." Demetri paused. "Do you think there are any herbs that can treat pain around here?"
Serendipity got up and streched her front legs, the proceded with the hind legs. "Well, I guess. But, can't it wait until tomorrow?"
Demetri rubbed one of the scratches on his knee. "I could wait, but they really hurt right now. And it's hard to go to sleep."
"Well, I guess I gotta go look for the right herb. Do you think you're well enough to come with me?" Serendipity asked.
Demetri tried getting up, but every movement just caused more and more pain. "I-I don't think I can, I'm so sorry!"
Serendipity looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "Don't worry about it. I'll be ba
SimonHe breathed his resolutions into my neckSimon4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And said, so softly
"I am undoing."
I was a blood red curtain once.
When parted, I embellished
Rooms that maybe,
Could have held the contours of his eyes.
But never, never
Would shapes be any more succulent,
Than when they snagged in that pair
He saw a chicken scratch garden
Inhabited the landscape
And when I folded chair-like on his lap,
He gave me blood-kissed Geranium
Tied by my curtain string.
My own messiah, with shears and stitches,
Simon pulled my corpse
From the sylph-feigned cairn
My mouth to his forehead endured,
I love him so, I do:
"I am undone."
SchoolWhy do I need toSchool5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
To a system that has never
Earned my respect?
I was never a writer. I: HalfsleeperI was never a writer.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I fell in love, once.
A snowstorm melting from my hair - dripping cataract:
diluted coffee. A dark room filled with language
so beautiful, I almost understood what was said.
Children are getting younger, and this land has no end,
where do you rest your head?
All things are in a constant state of vibration,
a harmony in the space between
our fingers. our hands.
I’ve only ever stopped to listen
Slender Man Took Her James woke up to the noise of his little sister giggling in her room right next to his. He checked the time to see it was three in the morning. At once annoyance gripped the edges of his mood causing him to get up and go find out what could be making his sister giggle this loud. Leaving his room James found no lights on in the house. His parents were already asleep in their rooms which was downstairs.Slender Man Took Her3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Groggily James went to his sister's door with intentions to get her to shut up when he noticed there were no lights underneath her pink door. Instead of knocking James put his ear against the door and strained to hear the muffled noises on the other side. Who could a six year old girl be talking to at this time of night?
"Hehe, would you like to hug Bear Mr.Tall?" a light sounding voice asked through the door. Amy. No one responded to her question. Instead Amy giggled again with the sound of someone walking around and grabbing things.
Soldier BoyOne day he came home,Soldier Boy4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A man given freedom.
He looked in the mirror,
And liked what he saw...
The days wore on,
And he lived his life.
Morning PT was a distant memory,
So too were the shouts of a Sergeant.
Training came thrice at first,
Then twice, then once,
The days wore on...
And life became harder,
Sacrifices were made.
He looked in the mirror one day,
And didn't like what he saw.
Not the pot-bellied man working for a few scraps.
Nor the slovenly fellow who'd forgotten how to clean his kit.
He earned his freedom, but he had lost what he respected...
And the days wore on...
And so he went out running, one fateful day,
His lungs burning with every breath.
Yet despite the pain inside his chest,
He resolved the soldier, would return to his best.
"You've been gone a long time Corporal Chen, what say we go once more around
-Word of Chen, One-shot, 24 February
Penumbra A halo of cast lightPenumbra1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
praying for form
to grace its embrace,
I, an hourglass mind
waiting for time
to pass me by and by.
I, mourner of perished days,
I live in silence - I live in bliss
- to be in this world, but not of it.
The GaimI can't bee lost to this gaim no moreThe Gaim4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it's draining my money
and my bank is so pore
like a sponge with no flu id
and it makes me fell sow ill
one can't grow seeds in pebbles
so now I'm fowling below a stone
that lies deep beneath my core
I try to quit, but I always seek it
from its trench on the mashine
and I always let it find my brain
and I let it mash it
into a clone of itself
a biological being that behives
like a robot
it wants me to buzz like it
so I will feed it more money
and keep it alive
so it can sting me more
my feather and my meather don't know
that I crave the gaim like meat
and the leather I rip from its hide
ow, it has cracked my boulders
and shuddered my shoulders
I can't let it bee like this no more
I will no longer let it
I will not let the gaim gain
and I will let my pore sponge
fell back with more water
and my feathers will mend
and I will find my way
back to the biology
of my humanity
and bee lost by the gaim no more.
Silence 2The silence rang mercilessly, which left Stephano and MrSilence 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Chair feeling hollow inside.
Stephano tilted his head to the side without much effort, and
stared into his bros eyes.
He always thought they were beautiful, the way Mr. Chair's eyes started golden around the pupil, but then turned into a modest mix of browns. Mr. Chair looked into Stephano's golden eyes, taking note on the way they fluctuated, showing a different hue of gold each time.
They stayed like that a while longer, the moment intensifying as the seconds passed away.
It wasn't until Mr Chair looked the other way that Stephano snapped back into his conscious state.
"What is it, bro?" He asked.
"Footsteps." Mr Chair stated simply. "I-I hear..."
Stephano and Mr. Chair hopped up, almost as if nothing had ever happened. They both knew that scream too well. Pewdie careened around the corner, and scooped the two of them up.
"AHHHH LETS GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!" He screamed again
God is a hipster.God went to StarbucksGod is a hipster.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because the Wi-Fi signal in
heaven is crap. He pulls
an HP out of the laptop bag and
rolls His eyes at the kid lugging
in a typewriter. He clicks on Word
because He never really stopped
creating – He has more furniture
than He knows what to do with
and no wall space left for His canvases.
He likes Word – His Word – because
it reminds Him of another beginning,
before time, before space, before everything.
WiredDo you truly believe that you are made of flesh?Wired1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do you believe that it is blood running through your veins?
Or is it merely the feeling of circuitry,
Pulsating beneath a synthetic exterior.
Think about it logically,
If indeed you can.
You are in constant need of a connection.
One that makes you feel like a part of the whole.
But if you were to be cut-off from it.
What would happen then?
I am eager find out.