I Love You For ThatTalking to youI Love You For That2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is safe and its sweet.
It's innocent and free.
And I love you for that.
Looking at you
gives me shortness of breath.
Makes my heart beat fast.
And I want you for that.
Being near you
makes me nervous and scared
I love your scent and aura.
And I'll always be with you for that.
Hearing your voice
fills my ears with joy
eases my heart and my mind
And I could never leave you for that.
You've destroyed my world
You've rebuilt it though
to somthing more beautiful
and I love you for that.
Like an Unfinished Love PoemShe calls him a poet but in truth he's just a dreamer with too many words in his head. He doesn't believe that he's fallen in love so he pretends to be a lovestruck stranger and writes how it might feel.Like an Unfinished Love Poem3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When I touch her lips with mine,
I'm not smiling,
I'm just living.When she said goodbye her heart pounded weakly against her heavy chest. With every pulse of blood through her veins she felt tension in her wrists; she was holding back, holding back. Her breastbone still feels like the wall of a jail cell her heartbeat thumping wildly like a prisoner begging to be freed. She wants to rip off her jacket because she's burning up inside.
She was full of empty goodbyes and dreams that didn't last long enough.
I've never been in love.
Don't you think I would know
how it feels?
My body's a wreck,
my eyes are stained with tears
my heart is hot underneath my skin.
I wonderNow that she's gone he's finally started to fall apart. It feels l
I hate youI hate you3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I hate you so much,I don't know why we keep in touch
you said that I'm the only one for you,but your actions showed that this is ain't true
My heart sucked dry,and dont ask me why,becuase you know the reason is you
I'll just sit here by the wall,and watch you die all alone
you always knew but you didn't want to say
now look on the mess you have done, tomorrow i'll be gone
nothing left to fix or break, can't decide whats true or fake
I just wanted you to resurrect me,but instead you broke me to a million pieces
should I run or should I wait,Should I hold or should I break
I'm just trying to revive from all those scars you gave me
I tried to break out from this emotional prison but without any luck, I've failed again
you mislead me,deceived me,
always lie and tricked me
I bought it like a fool,
now I know how cruel you are
all you leave is pain and scars...
TruthLong ago I wrote my wisest words of that young ageTruth5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I had written many lines, but most I would reject
Suddenly my pencil then entrusted to the page
that the Truth is always more important than its side effects.
And I never knew
If I had written truth
I've been thinking ever since to find the greatest truth
to make sense of the paradox confusing all our lives
A philosopher I soon became
the subject has since stayed the same
Should we think, or should we feel; will the wits or heart survive
And I never knew
How to find the truth
Now, did i finally find the right way
to live, and help you from sorrow?
I'd tell you to know about yesterday,
feel about today, and think about tomorrow.
Yet, when thinking of you
I feel for you too;
just a side effect of the truth?
Dream OnA dream can beDream On2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a passing thought;
a passionate ambition.
A dream can be
a battle fought;
a superficial mission.
A dream can be
a driving force;
a forgiving comfort.
A dream can be
a thriving source;
a deceitful consort.
A dream can thrill you;
drive you or kill you.
Beware of this, dreamers
and Dream On.
Baby It's Cold Outside Blaire's questing fingers hovered an inch below the bag of marshmallows she was trying to reach. She was on her tip-toes, one hand holding onto the shelf below the marshmallows and the other stretched out above her. She blew her bangs out of her face irritably and considered how she was going to reach the sweets without involving Prosper, who, she was sure, would tease her endlessly if she asked for his help.Baby It's Cold Outside5 years ago in General More Like This
Cursing him and his infernal height, she braced one foot on the trash can underneath the shelves and began to pull herself up. Grabbing the marshmallows triumphantly in one hand, she gave a yelp of surprise when two arms twined around her waist, steadying her. Turning around and seeing a grin on Prosper's face, she shot a glare at him, hoping it would keep the teasing at bay.
"What, no thank you?" Prosper said, mock surprise in his voice.
"My hero," She said absentmindedly, throwing him a grin to take away some of the bite from the
EducationEducation?Education2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
See that's what they call it.
But they teach us to do, not to think.
A genius doesn't answer every question perfectly,
A genius questions every answer given.
A system that judges success by the amount of bills you have,
Makes you work to the bone,
Cuts your soul in halves,
Make us seem like a bunch of clones?
Are we nothing more than machines?
Fill in the right answer, nothing more is accepted.
Thrown away if you can't follow instructions,
Is this in efforts in increase production?
Shall we drive the passion away from everything?
When everyone tries only to survive,
Shall we exist solely to die?
A system that completely determines your life.
Wasn't this system meant for us to thrive?
How I Measure LoveYou asked me how much I love you.How I Measure Love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On a scale from one to ten.
I whispered, "Infinity."
Because if I took a brush,
dipped in our love,
and painted a line made of whispered wishes,
and passionate kisses,
and tried to measure how much I love you,
it would stretch to the outer reaches of the universe.
And everyone would see that line,
twisting and curving,
in shades of happy tears and butterfly wings,
and say that someone crazy must have spent all that time painting it.
Or someone in love.
It would cross oceans on the backs of fish,
and cover cities, countries, and continents,
eventually breaching the atmosphere,
to play connect the dots with the stars.
It would ricochet off comet tails,
and weave playfully between Saturn's rings.
It would paint the universe in colors,
and pale pastels,
that people could see, when they looked up into the night sky.
Like the northern lights,
our love could light up the Heavens.
It would paint the tips of wheat plants,
dyeing the field in
ChangeChange3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My heart has ached for much too long...
Tearing at my soul...
Ripping at my mind...
This ache, unbearable...
This pain, unshakable...
This nightmare, unbelievable...
All of it, was too much for me...
Now, the ache is gone...
Replaced with warmth...
Replaced with joy...
I no longer have to hurt.
I can be myself.
I am alive again.
To Love a Machine.2"I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I died. I'm dead. Or whatever it is that happens to an AI when it's destroyed."To Love a Machine.23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Wheatley held very still. He didn't dare open his shutters for fear of what he would see. Was all that talk about Android Hell real? Was he even dead? Oh, he hoped not. Of course he still felt he deserved it, but he would much rather live out a meager existence, even if it meant an eternity at that bollocks facility. God he hated that job. It wasn't even a job really, just a ploy to make sure she was staying on the right track to escape. They'd almost had it too, until he'd gone and no. He couldn't think about that now. Why DID his thoughts continue to find their way back to the only friend he'd ever had? Even during his brief detention in space, Wheatley's mind had almost constantly returned to the mute girl with the swingy, dark ponytail and mysterious grey eyes; during those seldom times that he could block out that space bloke's jabbering. Why did
When Dib found Wheatley An Invader Zim/Portal 2 fanfiction. This is NOT meant to be a pairing fanfic. Please read the discription for more infomation.When Dib found Wheatley2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dib gazed upwards. It was a fine night, with not a cloud in the sky and glimmering stars covered the black sky. The moon was up, lighting up the park with a dim, silvery glow. The only sounds he could here were the chirping of crickets and the call of night birds in the trees behind him, as well as muffled noises from the city behind him.
Dib sighed as he pulled the trolley containing his equipment across the grass. The park was empty, as it was quite late and most people wouldn't be out in the dark park at that time. He followed a path that led him up a little hill the overlooked the city. It was important for him to find a place that was high up, with no structures or anything blocking him.
He soon reached the top of the hill, and stopped at a grassy patch of ground, away from the trees. Wiping away the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, he began
Such Sweet SorrowSuch Sweet Sorrow3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Tell me about something that made you sad.
Uh. Okay. Let me think. [Pause] I was sad when I sent you to the airport in San Antonio. That made me sad You leaving again made me sad.
Yeah. That made me sad, too. Parting is always sad, but you know what's worse? It always gets better. The first couple times, you're likeshe's leaving, I'm so sad I'm going to cry. And then, after a long time, you get used to it. That is sad.
Yeah. I understand.
Mm. Let's sleep now.
She fell into a slumber quickly. I soon heard her gentle and rhythmic breathing next to me. But I stayed awake to ponder her words. Did parting really get easier as time went by?
I don't think so. If else, I feel that it gets harder. More painful each time to see her turn her back on me and walk away. It's just that I've gotten stronger, and I've learned to smile when I wave goodbye. And cry l
Heartbeat BoxHeartbeat Box2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I have a single heartbeat
locked and boxed in glass
It's tucked beside my window
and sheltered from the past
I water it quite often
with honeydew and milk
It reaches for the sunshine
with petals pruned of silk
At night It whispers softly
and dances for the moon
It beats in gentle hiccups
and wakes me in the noon
I've bound it on a kite-wire
I've watched it fly away
Too many times it's broken
I should leave it on display
Good Girl DieGood girl. Good girl.Good Girl Die2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Carved into my thighs,
do what they say,
please just die?
Don't speak, don't cry,
don't smile, don't sigh.
They say live your life,
please don't regret,
but you scream and hit,
and tell me I'm a
Good girl. Good girl.
Please don't cry, just don't smile
these chains will be cut,
is two years a short while?
May We Reach It Now?May We Reach It Now?May We Reach It Now?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I carelessly abandoned the understanding of this world, and I fell back into the faraway place where nobody knows of. What is the wish that will never fade away? Does something like that truly exist? We don’t need a purpose to walk, or to live. So let us live as long as we possibility can.
Away from the prying eyes of typical inhabitants, we walk in a cadence beyond the comprehension of the pretentious. Let us infinitely travel beyond the worlds of yellow and lavender. Let us find the worlds of black and white, and live there beyond the self-pity. So when tomorrow comes, let us continue this repeating voyage.
Can you hear it? The worlds of blue tears are calling us. The world of purple confusion is whispering to us. The countless worlds are confessing to us; let us go and answer each and every one of them.
Like me, you all threw away the contemplation of the world, and you traveled with me to the road nobody travels. We must find the world of happiness and sa
Five Prompts for Your Not-very-creative Mind!Five Prompts to Get Your Mind Writing!!Five Prompts for Your Not-very-creative Mind!2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Situation #1: You're all alone. Your consciousness dances between the waking world and the world of dreams and eternal sleep. A shadow flits across your line of vision. Startled, you do this...
Situation #2: Frozen to the bone from the cold water that seeps from the cracks in your makeshift house, a cardboard box, you imagine yourself first in a volcano. Then drifting to California. No, better: A volcano in California. You think this...
Situation #3: You're almost there, but you feel the current sweep your toes off of the rocky bed below you. Screaming, you fall down an endless waterfall that pounds you with gallons of water a mile per second. Finally reaching the bottom, you do this...
Situation #4: Nevertheless, you continue your trek up the mountain; you know soon that your reckless decision will cost you this...
Situation # 5: You pick up the broken and ta
Project G.L.O.R.Y - Part 1'Run! Run damn it RUN!' I screamed the word 'run' over and over to myself as I sped down the deserted dirty streets, having to jump over the disgusting slabs of rotting human flesh littered on the roads and in the gritty dust bins that had fallen over and spilt their insides onto the floor. The smell was revolting, and flies stung my face as I sped past, but the fear in my heart and the sound of the screaming monsters behind me gave a little burst of adrenaline to my exhausted limbs.Project G.L.O.R.Y - Part 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I ran blindly beneath the searing burn of the sun above me, before finally the sounds of famished cannibalistic screams seemed to falter and got weaker, and I immediately dived into one of the old dark alleyways. The air here was even worse; the stench would have made me vomit hard if there was any food left in my stomach. I jumped over a long decomposed corpse and using one of the fire escape ladders swung my exhausted body to the third floor of the long deserted building.
I clung to the neglected grimy w
Drive"You ready to go?"Drive2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's with sodden hands and soaked-through boots that he climbs into the back of the faded old pickup. Red paint's peeling off everywhere, but he barely cares. Bullet holes and scattershot clusters show every few feet, but he still loves his ride. Despite the shattered world and slightly shattered rear-view mirror, it still takes him places.
He's got a gruff voice; his baritone erupts from his throat like gunfire or gravel across a chipped highway. Torn rubber boots slosh in the highway's broken shoulder. A burning wind catches his hair, runs through his stubble and down his open shirt. Runoff from the road splashes his faded jeans.
His coat whips in the wind, green and patched more times than he can count on his fingers. At least he has all of them; staying intact is an odd bonus in his line of work. The tools of his trade click and shift in their holsters just above h
the story of a girl i lovefive years ago, i met a girl.the story of a girl i love2 years ago in Letters More Like This
i met a girl who, in those five years, has changed my life. i met a girl who has held my hand, held my heart, held my attention. i met a girl who inspired me, whose thirst for the world is still unmatched to this day. i met a girl who, then, behind all the head-down studying and the dark eyeliner, loved herself. and god, she was loved.
this is the story she needs to hear, and she needs to tell herself every day for the rest of her life.
i still remember her smile when she first tipped over a table in maths, first wrote profanities in her textbook. i still remember her standing there, in the middle of the grey classroom with the windows behind her skinny frame, laughing like her world had just opened up. i remember the first time she dyed her hair, and then below her sharp jawline was rainbow of colour that suited her a little bit too well. i remember her wearing her skirt a bit too high, tucking in her shirt and wearing long white socks and telling me that
we're all only stories, somedaywe spent our nightswe're all only stories, someday5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
smoking cigarettes and naming
like planets; the
moon never told us
the same story
we spent days in
the homes not called
sweet; they were
houses shaped like
for the hearts we
sunday mornings to
remember, kissing in the kitchen
to the smell of
oranges and burnt-out
lined the walls
the way that frames
learnt - but once - to let
be our veins, but we'd sing
through the storms
where the wind
tore our voices from our lungs,
and we knew we were
as the ocean.
we never knew
what to think and we
never planned for more
than a minute; we
but i guess
you couldn't blame
the world for free-falling
our broken bones; if
life taught us anything
it was that
we're nothing, not at all,
and even if we shoot
for the stars
we'll only ever reach
we knew we'd never
last on paper since the trees
didn't know our
even if the world
HaikuBoys run by the lakeHaiku2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Skipping stones as well as school-
They just want to smile.
UpstairsI always feel safer upstairs.Upstairs2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can't explain why, not even to myself.
Not completely safe. But always safer.
Upstairs is another side of life,
a side where you can feel safe when you are less safe than you were before.
And upstairs is a place where you can feel screams
long after their reasons have disappeared.
Upstairs, tears are colder
Cold enough to cool down every heart downstairs
Upstairs is where I used to be with a man who truly loved me
Although not enough.
Upstairs is where I am safely unsafe, alone with my hard heart,
looking out on the wintermoon in the summer.
It's cold enough to freeze the love that was not enough into tiny, fragile fractions
of a reality we lost.
burning bodiesand we yearned for something deeper tangled between bed sheetsburning bodies1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
but our palms were always split open, spilling malice.
our bodies, always in dire separation
even in scalding proximity.
je dis beaucoup des mensonges.
i tell a lot of lies.
we curled ourselves alongside icicles to bury the flames.
my waist still feels like a graveyard.
even after all the times you tasted my bone marrow,
you still have the nerve to say i'm not bitter.
our mansion is burning from the inside out
and we force-feed the desire with
prolonged gestures and held-breaths.
our combined scar tissue lies in a heap on the floor of our shrine
and the skin is nearly poison when we add our cancelled convictions.
i tore myself apart until all my limbs
seeped into the dirt and sprung dandelions.
neither of our backbones found forgiveness.
we are hiding in the crevices of bedrooms
behind locked doors
underneath all the fight we never knew we had.
this is how smiles tear:
my teeth are lodged in your ribc
PandemoniumWelcome to the plague called pandemonium,Pandemonium2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Step inside this chaotic suicidal stadium,
Away from those arms harmless and afraid.
Where tendrils bleed like veins bleeding madness,
As they sprout before silver flames they fray.
Welcome to the poison named pandemonium,
Crawl from this hectic confused cranium,
Away from those arias painless and alone.
Where fireflies hide like eyes hiding darkness,
As they blink before black graves they groan.
Welcome to the pity known as pandemonium,
Enslave not this static emphatic elysium,
Away from those aliens formless and alive.
Where verses die like nerves dying sadness,
As they wake before white stones they survive.