She StaysI walk along the pier, your hand in mine, the sun setting beautifully into the grey sea. The mist gently drifts over the water, betraying the cold of winter. I don't mind, though. I only have to look at you, and I feel warm.She Stays3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's tough not to sound soppy.
Honestly, I'm not used to having this. I'll never really be used to it. I'd been lonely for a long time before I met you. I didn't think I'd have the kind of relationship that you watch on the cinema screens or read about in novels. I genuinely thought I'd be alone forever.
How wrong I was.
You smiled at me as I walked into Falmer bar and we made eye contact. I returned the gesture nonchalantly. It had been a hard day so far four hours of academic obligations back to back. Getting up for 10am was still a struggle, even in my third year.
Your smile stuck in my head as I faced away from you, leaning against the bar counter. I ordered a portion of cheesy chips and walked through to the sofas in the back bar, grateful for an oppo
Tears of the PastRain falls down on the treesTears of the Past4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Branches heavy with tears of the past
And the wind speaks to me
At my window
Controlling me - Isolation
Hopelessness - Losing Interest
Meditate on just one thing
Innocence...In a sense
I am guilty - I surrender
You can't escape from this
If you don't stop
Running away from
Blue-gray streaks are coming down
Perfect skies shine in the distance
Barriers that blur my sight
Keep me in this dark existence
You can't escape from this
If you don't stop
Running away from
Life can be bliss
If you let it be.
Take me away from this,
And teach me serenity.
Surrender and be free,
Free, let me be free! Let me go!
Drawing the shades -
We both know you can't let me go
Where am I?
Is this real?
All that I am
All things material
All are whole,
Perfect, and beautiful
As this wave of clarity sweeps over me
We all have the power to choose,
The power to be!
Air DragonAir DragonAir Dragon4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Written by GerFalcon
If you could fly, weighed two tons, and were carrying a pair of very rich and fragile customers to a charity ball, how would you go about taking off? Would you leap into the air and accelerate as fast as you could into flight? Would you start off on a cliff and plummet into a gentle glide? Perhaps you might try taking off from a standing start using sheer wing power, level off at a hover, then slowly push forward until you reach a comfortable cruising speed? None of these, apparently, is desirable for someone who simply wants to arrive fashionably on dragonback, and I can't hover. I'm a dragon, not a humming bird.
The correct answer is that you find a nice, long, flat spot to take off from and get a running start. The gentler you are with your customers, the happier they'll be, the more they tip, and the more likely it is that they'll talk favorably with their friends and family about their experience with Air Dragon.
I have one such couple getting ready
where god is a butcherwhere god is a butcher5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there is a slaughterhouse
where the hungry men reincarnate
as bulls. a cleaver spattered in red
teases: chase me, chase me now,
caresses a thigh, then thrusts
its tongue like a knife.
he hangs in wet pieces.
the street salivates with rain,
swallows the leaves
that once lined the way.
a boy eyes his flank,
an old man trades silver
for his feet, a girl enters
and passes him by.
if he had lips
or life, he would beg,
daughter, it is i!
but she chews the fat
with the cashier: a new child,
weather, supper plans after
mass for her widowed mother.
she wraps him in the morning
paper, tucks him in her bag.
the butcher tears his apron
as the clouds gnash above.
she rubs salt against his flesh,
kneads wine into his back, stiff
and splayed on a wooden rack.
slipped into warm jaws,
he finally softens:
contented to be
the last meal.
tomorrow, a lamb will be born
Awake For The SunriseI despise every solemn sunrise spent without you,Awake For The Sunrise4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the pink flesh of sunburned skies peeling away
and resting in my bloodshot eyes that say
I will cry before it rains and the sun
will always be more bright than our future.
But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try,
because the moon loves the stars enough
to be with them at least once a day.
The way rain clouds ploughed their way
into yesterday and tomorrow reminds me
of the time I asked why you were crying
and you told me "Today won't last forever."
So my heart broke
like it had no other options;
a water-filled jar being frozen
and there just wasn't enough space
left in my chest for air.
Tenebrae Factions: CALVARA'STenebrae Factions: CALVARA'S3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
The undead portion of Tenebraes population (68%)
SPECIES: Various "Majority species are Human, Anthros, Drakes and Drakka."
APPEARIANCE: the Majority of the calvera population of tenebrae appear skeletal with some appearing decayed and gaunt. Most wear the same garments or garment types that they wore while they were alive. These can range from being brand new to well worn and shreaded with age and weathering.
Physical:- At Variating states of Decay, ranging from pale or greenish - black skin to advanced states finally reaching the appearance of bleached or unbleached bones with perhaps some remaining organic organs or mecanical attachments or enhancements. Most are of a thin gaunt build depending on their species or build in life. Some may wear metal bands or braces to hold broken bones together or have metal bones or cybernetics where a limb or bone was broken after the individual became a Calvara. Calvaras are extreamly strong having no muscles to restrict their
Pygmalion In some distant land there lived a king and his mind. In a time of steam and balloons and the defiance of Gods and Nature alike by Man, his people thrived in unbroken peace, and the king and his mind lived alone in his hall. No sentries guarded its doors, for the king felt safe in his home; no queen sat by him as he ate. Instead, the emptiness was filled with the treasures of the modern day: precious metals and glass moulded into technical tools and toys for his pleasure, and forces driven by sheer physics for that of his mind; a mechanical menagerie of metal lapdogs that barked when called, frogs that croaked squeakily as they hopped meaninglessly about, cats that purred when their well-greased ears were stroked.Pygmalion4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Yet neither the king nor his mind were satisfied: the mind grew bored with the knowledge it found in weights and steam, and the man himself, the fallible king of a refined land, grew fonder of the obje
last nightlast night, the smell of you seeped into me.last night4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i caught it dripping from my pores
and unfurling from my hair like a sightless memory
then settling comfortably on the pillow beside me
and pooling in the creases of my sheets
like a contented water cat.
last night, the taste of you rubbed into me.
your unique spice grubbed beneath my unpainted nails,
flavoring the back of my tongue and the space between my scapula
with a sweat-salty sweet desire
that I licked from your shoulder while your stomach breathed into mine
and we balanced indelicately on coxae and cotae
like dancing bears on balls.
last night, the idea of you sailed into me.
it came silently, slowly flowing into small dark corners
so it wouldn't frighten me
and waiting for the sunrise,
waiting to be cautiously picked up and examined for solidity,
to be confirmed by the pleasure in your eyes
when i said you'd meet her at Christmas
and you didn't look away.
Operation SearchlightYou ripped the tongue out my mouthOperation Searchlight7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Replaced it with fire shower,
You came hissing your depraved war cries
Faces drawn like a slave to your lies;
Under the dark
Shaking your champagne bottles
You sprayed your froth- throttled
Me out of spark.
Gathered up my rivers
In pitch darkness
Starved my suns brightness.
Pulled out of my landscape
Like a picked-clean bone;
Cornered with no escape,
I died in numbers unknown.
You popped corks loud enough
To drown songs of my youth.
But your fire
Could only lick my feet;
I climbed out of the mire,
To lend fire to your funeral pyre.
In time I found and held a handle,
And blew out my first birthday candle.
Things I will Risk For You c.3Convincing Lawrence that they were heading out to search for Perry was the easy part; convincing Linda of the same thing was the hard part. The mother always needed a good reason for her children to be out at that time searching for their pet platypus, even if it was shortly after dinner. But Phineas' desperation and love for Perry soon won Linda over, and after clearly stating that she did not want them out any later than midnightsummer gave the boys a good excuse to stay up latePhineas and Ferb gave their word to return by then and dashed up the stairs to the elevator Perry had built for them to give them access to his lair.Things I will Risk For You c.33 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Arriving in the platypus' lair, the boys used Perry's fedora to gain access to the transport tubes that led to the OWCA's headquarters. Thanks to the fact that the computer system recognized nothing but the agents' fedorasPhineas and Ferb had offered to upgrade that for them, but Monogram was hesitant in having children fix it up for the agency;
paper planesI lay on the floor, waiting. I was naked (at least I think I was). My memories were like the view through an empty bottle at this very moment.paper planes3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Green, maybe blurry. Naked, too, perhaps.
Part of me was gone already, as the paper planes invaded the room, searching for sunlight.
I told them to disappear. They wouldn't find any down here.
---[asinine creme-coloured jinxes full of dust and steam.]
There was just this empty room, me and a little piece of dark grey water on the wooden floor, treasuring anxious shadows like a mother hen.
As I lay there, the world laved into my ear, and when it got too much to conserve, it kept pouring out again. It felt like liquid silver to my ear and cheeckbone.
When it reached my eyelid I silently started to cry as the world was too picturesque to believe.
SleepPerhaps it's the pressing consciousnessSleep3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that across the world
people are at work and school
and walking sad with worry
Did people sleep
before they had to think of that?
Or perhaps it's the dreams
the ones you hate or hate to wake from
that don't offer their portents
as long as you are staring at the screen
or the printed page
or the windshield.
Or maybe there's a part that thinks
if you can just push the night clock round
Dare yourself not to close your eyes
like the everyday sun-wakers
To walk yourself through morning and beyond
the world will have to change somehow.
And the next time you give in
you will wake to something different
a place that's slightly new
and rings with intensity
Perhaps just a little better
than the night's rejected dreams.
the last sentence I started like thisI wonder if you're still breathingthe last sentence I started like this3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the same pattern that you used to
and if your life just picked up
as it was before in a way that
makes me insignificant
I wonder if there's someone new
if she speaks in complete sentences
and means it
when she says
she loves you.
I wonder if you're doing better
and if you'll get it right this time.
but I don't really care.
That's the difference
between now and before,
I couldn't forget you
I barely remember you.
Questions I Never Asked My GrandfatherMy grandfather sits in a wheelchair by the window in the old people's home with his chin leaned into his chest, mumbling incessantly and unintelligibly to himself and drooling a little from the right corner of his mouth. Mom can't come here anymore. She just breaks down at the sight of him so I sometimes come by myself and sit with him in silence for a while.Questions I Never Asked My Grandfather3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's a sad end to a long and hard life, and I morbidly think to myself that if a political party stepped forth now with the legalization of euthanasia on its agenda, I'd vote for it. After two strokes and a hemorrhage, topped with severe senile dementia, what is the point of letting people exist like robots? I know grandpa thought the same. Before his speech was impaired, he often said that the pacemaker was one of his biggest mistakes, and that people should be allowed to go when it was time to go.
Terrible as it sounds, I'm already starting to think about the obituary that I, having the best way with words in my branch of the fa
Dreams'Here we go again', you think. First the dizziness, then the confusion, then the questions that don't stop rolling through your mind. 'Am I real?' You don't feel like it. 'Could this really all be a dream? Possibly.'Dreams7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And then everything feels like it could be in s l o w m o t i o n, but it isn't. Everything could happen or nothing at all. And it's scary. And it's hardto continue on like everything is normal, just for the sake of her. Just so she is happy. Just so they are not worried. You pretend everything is alright, when everything is just the opposite.
But you continue. With these thoughts in your head.
'Am I in a movie?'
Derealizationthis reflection in the mirrorDerealization4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is something I don't really
This body that i have
I don't belong to
my mind is leaving, leaving it
I'm floating away
floating away from my body
everything everything everything
is leaving me
I can't control this
where is my control?
Why don't I have a single say
I am leaving my body
my body will be left behind here
everything around me, everything
is starting to disintegrate
And this reflection in the mirror
is something I don't really like.
But this reflection in the mirror,
is starting to
2nd person fiction and YouYou like fiction written in the second person. You may not admit it to yourself, but deep down, you really do. It teases you with its confrontational otherness, its flamboyantly displayed post-modernism, its teeth.2nd person fiction and You4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Do not look at its teeth. You do not want to look at its teeth.
Fiction written in the second person and you have a long history of denial. At first, you were sure it couldn't be done. Then it was done, and it was done to you, and you liked it, too, but it was only the one time and you were kind of drunk. It was an experiment, and it was interesting as an experiment, but that was all it was.
Only, of course, it wasn't.
Fiction written in the second person has invaded your dreams, and what's worse, your sexual fantasies. You'd be picturing a luscious blonde, rubbing her rubbables, yearning for your touch, when suddenly a voice would pop into your head, calmly narrating what you were doing: "You are picturing a luscious blonde," the voice would say, "rubbing her rubbables. Hey
Liquid Cityhere, at the bottom - lovers.Liquid City3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are lovers disassembling
themselveslost in and to the
desperate ryhtmn in
of - waves.
- did you think the continents
moved themselves? see them slip,
in an open sleep. less go, come.
come and, and - again. trembling
here, at the bottom - their eyes
are lightless. hollow bodies left
the sea does not sleep.