Silver LinedStandingSilver Lined2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on irregular pieces
of broken glass
for deafening dullness
to slowly pass
through blurred reflection
of unpainted stains
for scattered perfection
which wreckedly remains
every deep sillage
of damning illusion
on each sharp edge
with meticulous caution
the numbing ache,
away from the cold, dark wake
with blind gaze shifted
the cynical view
without further debate
the best-laid cue,
never too late
a worthy fight
to what is right,
on with firm grip
to silverlined hope
that fate will flip
the heavy, cruel rope
go of the decision
to ever lose
time is a definite option
one can safely choose
AnchorAn anchor had five minutes in which to reorient themselves. One.Anchor5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I stared at the heavy steel loop around my thumb. My world was a sand castle, constructed by the subconscious in a vain hope that it would stand up on such a treacherous foundation. The ring was an unfamiliar weight and the foundation of my castle started to crumble. I did not remember it. The tide was ebbing in around my mind, whispering that my carefully imagined world was wrong. That it was lies. That the 'when' and the 'where' were pure fancy. I stirred in the nest of wires that poured information through my brain. There was a man with me, his bare back against mine. He, too, was lost.
An anchor's duty was to the pilot and the pilot alone. Not to their employer, not the guild, not even to themselves. Two.
There was an image engraved on the ring, a nautical anchor from the days when man sa
Just so you knowThe feel of your lipsJust so you know5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
firmly planted against mine
Your burning touch sending
shivers down my spine
With my fingertips
I gently trace your skin
You're a sweet addiction,
I want you to take me to places
I've never been
Your blue eyes are gleaming
cast upon mine
The stars above us, far away
in the night they shine
And I could spend forever
laying by your side
So drag me with you
anywhere you go
I'll go to hell and back,
just so you know
Give Her Some AirAs the rain falls down, a figure ponders her own lifeGive Her Some Air2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Should she stay or take the darker route of suicide?
As the candle in the window flickers and goes out
Then the figure cracks the door and leaves her darkened house
As the raindrops splash her face, she tries to hold back tears
She imagines why her family has left her here
Tears from all of the abuse and from her broken heart
It's the first time she has felt so apt to fall apart
Show her some care
Give her clean air to breathe
For she is there
The edge of everything
Give her clean air
As the rain falls down, a figure ponders her own life
She looks at the sky, ever so slightly lifts the knife
As a bead of red begins to trickle down her throat
She remembers then that she forgot to write a note
That explained the agony that she forever knew
That betrayed her self-infliction for the lack of truth
So she screams her heart out at the rainy, blackened sky
Just another way that she prepares herself to die
Show her some care
Give her clean a
*Ghost Story*Moon so high over battlements bright*Ghost Story*2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Special place belonged to us alone
Recalled moments remembered with delight
There ways of love was gently shown.
Battlements a magnet we did revisit
Towering aloft, invasion of sky
Moments remembered they were exquisite
Never considered love might die.
Battlements just history now we've gone
Gallery empty where musicians played
Life and love like a minstrel's song
Endless friendship, fragrant days.
Awaiting midnight, turrets touch moon
My ghost walks castle-love will come soon.
Tell Me a StoryTell Me a Story2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
"Please," Lyssa implored him, "Tell me a story. 'Tis a blue corn moon, the stars are brightly shinin', the fire's warm, and the sounds of the night are singin' in me ears."
"Are ya sure, lass?" Daemon replied. "Well then, come closer and I'll tell you a story of love and loss, of light and darkness. Are ya sure yer up fer it darlin'?"
So she drew closer as he went on...
"Sean O'Leslie was the young man's name,
fishin' he liked, and huntin' for game.
Well thought of he was in his small town,
yet ne'er he smiled, wore only a frown.
One night as he was cuttin' some wood,
moon up above and the stars there for good,
a soft voice he heard, so sweet and low,
he glanced through the wood, spied a soft glow.
He called out "Hello, is anyone there?"
He ran toward the light with nary a care.
When he came to the clearin' he stopped,
what he saw there, lass, made his jaw drop.
There she a'stood so ghostly and white,
the lamp she held a'shinin' so bright.
Her ethereal face gave
Video Games- AmericaXReaderVideo Games- AmericaXReaderVideo Games- AmericaXReader2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Grabbing a bag out of your closet you dumped the contents inside onto your bed. An oversized hoodie, t-shirt and a pair of big jeans tumbled out as you shook the bag as if it depended on your life. Hurrying you put each on then stuffing our hair inside the hoodie then finally topping it all of with some old sneakers.
“I’m heading out!” you shouted to no one in particular and left with keys in hand and a large amount of money.
Today was the day ‘Awesome shooting game 2’ came out and you HAD to get your hands on it. As the nearest Video game store came into view you stopped and groaned. There was a large crowd already in front of the store and there was no way you had a chance to get the game you wanted. That meant waiting another week for another arrival of the game.
‘Maybe you could just convince a random person to sell you the game’ you thought. Putting your hood on you jogged t
Save MeWon’t you take me from the dark sideSave Me2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And just help me find my feet
Can you save me from the night time
Will somebody please save me
As I’m dying in the darkness
And I’m losing all I was
Filled with nothing more than sadness
I am losing all I’ve got
InheritanceHe plucks a bitter C noteInheritance4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on a two hundred year old violin
that belonged to his mother,
and her grandmother.
The strings have never fallen flat before.
Loki SequelThe engine was a sphere of liquid power, churning and coiling in itself like the sun, tendrils of energy exposing their white bellies to the membrane that held it all in check. It hung suspended in the heart of the ship, thrumming like the organ it emulated, sending white-hot life searing through the metal veins that held us safe from the void beyond. It was not a natural thing. It burned only because the breath of a god spun it into being.Loki Sequel4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I stood at the edge of the walkway that surrounded its middle, leaning as far out over the railing as I dared. Even contained, the heat still seared at my pale cheeks and left them feeling raw. The engineering team were easily recognizable from the rest of the crew as we were the only ones that did not have the lifeless pallor from months without the sun. We burned from the ruddy tan of our Chief Engineer to my own blistered apple-red that peeled and returned to white without even a nod in the direction of brown. Behind me, Dancer manned the
Seafoam and AshA 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 Ash4 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.
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 golden eyes flashed
FirefliesWe kept cicadas and caterpillars in mason jars, but never fireflies. My brother still has a cicada from three years ago, sleeping away under the lid. Grandpa says it'll stay that way for 17 years like all cicadas do, and it's okay to keep them safe.Fireflies3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But we don't catch fireflies; they don't live that long. They say light travels faster than anything, but our bugs are fat lazy things that travel nowhere in a big zigzag. The tall grass lights up with tiny little flashes every night all summer long and all is dark not two months later, but for the time being they don't even know they're dying.
QuietlyShe stabbed at her potatoes with a deliberate slowness; the lulls in the surrounding conversation always came when she was in the middle of chewing a mouthful of food, and those lulls were the only chance she got to get a word in edgewise. But those chances passed by each time - someone was always faster, louder, shoving whatever tentative sentence that had been forming on her lips aside. She was too polite to say anything, instead turning back to the potatoes and stabbing a little harder, kicking herself under the table for being such a doormat.Quietly4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
They didn't mean to ignore her soft voice; it only kept getting lost, overpowered by the people around. She told herself that, over and over. Over and over. Over and over. But the mealtimes consistently found her sitting alone because while dealing with loneliness was one thing, having it shoved in your face was another.
In the end, it was easier to deal with it alone than to let other people talk around, over, and through her as though a ghos
Tony StarkXReader Chapter 3Tony StarkXReader Chapter 33 years ago in Romance More Like This
"And, that is the 4th bathroom of the house.." Tony says, pointing towards a white door. You nod your head and continue walking
with Mr. Stark.
"Umm, if you don't mine me asking, but what happened in New York?" you ask, scratching the back of your bed. Tony looks to the
floor then back up to meet your eyes.
"Long story short, some messed up dudes tried to bomb the USA. But, thanks to me, I stopped him!" Tony said, smiling proudly.
"I helped too! Don't just take all the credit, dummy!" shouted Victoria from her room. Tony rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Maybe you did help some..." he sighed. You giggle. Tony looks at you. "What is so funny?" he askes.
"Well, the genius billionaire playboy philanthorpist is being talked to by a tiny 14 year old." you says, flipping your (h/c) locks. Tony
rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever!" he says. He walks into the kitchen. "Damn it!" he yells, rushing into his bedroom.
"Whats wrong Tony?" you ask. He comes back out 5 minutes later in a black shirt and gray
Heroes of Olympus The MusicalHeroes of Olympus the MusicalHeroes of Olympus The Musical4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Act 1 Scene 1
At the Roman Camp
A heart full of love
A heart full of song
Oh God, for shame
I do not even know your name
Won't you say?
Will you tell?
A heart full of love
No fear, no regret
My name is Percy, Pontmercy
Annabeth, I don't know what to say
Then make no sound
I am lost
I am found!
A heart full of light
A night bright as day
And you must never go away
This is a chain
we'll never break
Do I dream?
A heart full of
He was never
mine to lose
A heart full of
what could not be?
A single look and
then I knew.
I knew it too
are words he'll
Not to me...
words from a TRUE friend...words from a TRUE friend...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know we're not the same.
I know we're very unique.
People will try to tear us apart,
But we will always still love each other at heart.
I am always yours to keep.
I will always keep holding onto you no matter what people say.
We are both so open.
We can never be broken.
Hand in hand, our love seems to light the night.
Don't you ever cry.
I'm hear for you.
I will always need you.
Don't ever think differently.
That you always try your best to be with me.
That you care and love me.
Don't you ever let me go.
I thank god that I am blessed.
You are precious to me don't you ever forget that.
I know I don't always show or say what I mean.
But just because I don't,
That doesn't mean I still don't need you by my side.
You are my home.
My friend I hold so tightly.
You are always in my memories.
I've gone throug
Periwinkle TeaIt's only about 1AM but it feels so much later and I don't know why.Periwinkle Tea4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I get nights like that sometimes, especially when I've spent so much of it reading and everything I've ben reading on dA tonight has been soft or sad or subtle or bittersweet or any combination of those things and I'm typing this with my entire left hand and only two fingers of my right because the thumb and forefinger still have residue from the bag of potato chips I can't stop nibbling on.
I'm out of tea and this makes me sad because I don't really want to make more this late but maybe I will anyway because I'd like to trade in my potato chips for chocolate sticks. I think I'd like something warm for the next few hours.
My tea mug is periwinkle blue.
There must be a perfect ratio of tea to sugar because everyone else seems able to find it but me. I kept putting in spoonfuls of sugar but it never got any sweeter until it got to the range where I knew I really didn't need that much in my system but it's not my fault t
Little ManShe considered herself a feminist, but when her man wanted her to do something, she did it. It didn't matter what it was, when he called she was there in an instant.Little Man3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She tiptoed into the room, careful not to wake him and peered into the crib where he slept soundly with a Pikachu doll.
Underestimated [Sherlock (RDJ) x Reader]Walking along the cobblestone streets of London, you pulled your coat closer to you as a cold burst of air blew past you. Your boss picked you to go to London, even though he knew you hated the cold, because you were the best to get the job done.Underestimated [Sherlock (RDJ) x Reader]2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
You pulled the veil on your hat over your eyes as you walked by dark ally after dark ally. Your destination was Baker Street, 221b to be precise. You weren't to go in, no, there was something else entirely that was to happen.
The building sat across the street from your form, light flickering in the upstairs windows. You turned to face two burly men coming your way, right on time. Walking slowly, they caught up to you.
The tallest of the two grinned and held you to face the other man, his face covered in scars. You screamed loudly, screaming for anyone to come and help you.
The tall one released you and you heard a groan of pain from him. You turned to face what was going on to see the great detective 'recuing' you. The brunette boxed the tall
The Town WitchEvery town has its witch. At least I think they do. I know ours does. She isn't scary like stories say she should be. She has a face like my older sister's, the one who isn't married yet, with an eager smile and bright eyes. Her hands though are like my Momma's, calloused and stretched with small roots under the skin.The Town Witch4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her cottage is just outside of town with a small path that runs down to the sea. Her garden is full of overgrown plants that Momma would always "tut" at when we walked by, but it's full of herbs and flowers that she tends with care. She always smells like the honeysuckle that grows around her door and like baking. She bakes often, with her windows thrown open, her singing drifting through her garden all way to the road, the thick sills stacked with rows of cooling pastries. She always leaves batches of small, sweet buns on the outer edge where us children could easily reach. Not that she ever let on that she knew we were taking them. It was the great game amongst us, pret
Friendship is RubbishFriendship is Rubbish4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The lights flickered in the studio, the concrete floors and dark corners giving the illusion that the building was to be considered a large garage. However, it was a bit more ornate than that, as banners hanging from the ceiling and different metal machines adorned the edges near the walls, showcasing a pony in a white suit, with even it's mane and tail completely hidden within the confines of the fabric, a shining white helmet adorning the stallion's head, leaving any idea of the pony under the cloth to be a complete mystery.
A bushy maned pony walked into the center of the staging area of the building, stepping upon a raised platform which held two couches, one large enough for two ponies, and the other the beige pony found himself occupying, placing some documents on the table as he rested himself on the seat. Flipping through pages, the pony's expressions flipped lazily from mild surprise to utter disgust as fiddled with the color of
The Visitor - Part 1It was twenty-eight minutes past seven, on the sixth day of October, and London was being rained on. Rain is not something that happens in London or over London or even around London. It happens to London, in the same way that chicken-pox happens to five-year-olds.The Visitor - Part 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
London with rain happening to it is a very different place to London with nice-weather-for-this-time-of-year. It's grumpier. People talk less, and they hurry everywhere, holding up briefcases and newspapers like offerings to the gods. Women in high heels perform that peculiar toes-only not-quite-running that is unique to the breed. And anyone arriving in a safe, dry haven, will say to the first human being they encounter, "It's absolutely tipping it down out there!"
On that morning (the sixth of October, seven twenty-eight) Doctor Rosemary Fortune was not performing the toes-only run, the newspaper-over-head jog, or any other undignified movement. She had come equipped with a very la
FFM-2012-5It's been so cold since you left. I put on long sleeves because it feels like a hug but it wasn't enough. So I hugged my bear instead, but he never hugs back and maybe that's why I never gave him a name.FFM-2012-53 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I guess what I'm trying to say is I still miss you.