This Is For YouThis is for you.This Is For You7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
This is for you, who would always say that you weren't 'good enough'
This is for you, who would always wish that you were as good as them.
Sometimes, you throw your pencil across the room in frustration when you realize that you'll never be an artist.
Remember when you told yourself that art was a passion that you would never let go?
But yet, it's slipping between your fingers, right now.
You want, so desperately, to be an accomplished artist.
But you never believe in yourself.
It's painful, I know.
But isn't art worth it?
Maybe you just don't know the meaning of being an artist.
It doesn't matter what you do, or how skilled you are.
The fact that you love art, is all that matters; and that's what makes you a true artist.
Don't you remember your art bringing you so much joy?
Now, it seems to do the complete opposite.
It seems like demons are haunting you, telling you that you're 'not good enough'.
You want to know what I say to tha
Caged InWho would have thought the years being locked in a cage would be the happiest time of my life?Caged In8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I used to dream about gliding- my wings spread wide as I rode the breeze over a horizon that went on forever. I would wake in the dark and scream out in frustration, hoping that someday I could sing my real song.
The nights became longer and the dreams became unwelcome. You see, when I'm too caged in, fantasies are more like nightmares, taunting me, teasing me; a blatant reminder of what I can never have.
It was all I wanted. It was everything.
I escaped the first time the opportunity presented itself. Barreling through the unlocked door, I ran down the table and leaped through the open window with wings unfurled. I sang then, the sweetest noise I have ever made.
Until I fell.
I had never truly experienced the sensation of falling. It wasn't as peaceful as I imagined. It was terrifying.
I thought flying would come easy. I thought I would simply beat-be
Free FallingFree Falling1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The wind was frigid as ice. Sharp as razors. Coupled with the delirium of being amongst the clouds, she felt more alive than she ever did on the ground.
"Ready?" The deep voice crept into her ears.
"Aye," she gasped. They were higher than they'd ever been. Her body shook as much from want of air as it did the cold. She dug her nails into the dragon's pale scales and stood on weak legs.
She stared up at the sun. So close, she could almost touch it. She smiled as its warmth cut through the cold air.
She lifted her arms up as high as she could.
Not close enough.
The sky grew hazy. Blue to grey where there were no clouds.
Time to go.
"I'll be waiting," he rumbled.
Of course he would.
Pain rushed through her veins. Her body warning her of the fall.
Plummeting. The razors were knives now. The cold burned.
The clean air filling her lungs more and more until she could see straight. Blood rushing to her head.
The icy ocean below grew focused. Another surge of
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,Abandoned Chapel6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls
chipped away by the wind;
cobwebs align them
like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in a broken window,
gathering in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic)
My eyes seek out the sermon,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
(beneath nick and scratch)
as light needles the shade,
breathes new fire over candles,
measures the weight in these empty rows,
breaths that haven't ceased being prayer.
Portal 2 - TomorrowOn her first working day, Caroline was overwhelmed with activity.Portal 2 - Tomorrow5 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Illusions had never been an habit of hers; all along, in between the internships and the extra courses, she had guessed. She knew way before crossing that doorstep as an employee, for the first of countless times to come — no previous experience in the world could have fully prepared her for Aperture Science.
The place was already enormous, yet not enough for its ambitions. She had to notice, with attentive eyes, the tiniest details that fell under her gaze. She followed the unraveling of a vast net — it was made of lies and truth, of balance and mistakes, so fragile that it could be torn anytime by a single breath.
The good impression she left behind at work could not spare her nerves. When she met the sight of her home in the evening, it felt as if whole years had passed — she was a different person, tired in an entirely different way.
She stared at the darkness, swimming in a tangle of thoughts. She
MethuselahLike your predecessor you're destined to live long.Methuselah7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Destined to fly the canopies of Africa,
The conductor of your own orchestra.
But destiny plays no part in your life.
Passed from saint to saint,
You make a home out of your cage.
What would have been hymns
Turned to echoes of your jailers.
Their efforts to make you holy fail
As you paint portraits of their misery and pains.
This cage has crippled you.
Broken your wings.
Denied you your right to flight and truth.
You're the wreck your mother land's become.
Forced to live utopia surrounded by bars.
Looking at the horizon with a curtain in your face.
On a fateful afternoon, your sentence is over.
Your jailer sets you free.
But what does free mean?
He throws you into the air.
What little instinct you have left
Drives you to open your wings.
With struggle you flutter like freedom itself.
But what now?
The iron roads that surrounded you
Have become your bones.
Your true home a bad nightmare.
You run back back to your prison,
When I Shall DieWhen I shall dieWhen I Shall Die7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I ask not for a coffin
To display my mortal body
To the Earth beneath.
I ask not for a funeral
A celebration of my life and memory
Though both would be soon forgotten
I ask not for roses nor lilies
To slowly rot away in coherence with me.
When I shall die
I merely ask for a stone
With my name etched onto its soul
And of this stone I beg,
To remember me
Remember I was here , that I existed,
For all eternity.
For There Is A Girl...There is a girl who does not fit in.For There Is A Girl...2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
She couldn't be more different
In the society she was raised in;
She thinks the exact opposite.
She finds it odd that two girls
Cannot dance the way a man and
She finds it odd that those being
Accused of horrible acts are being
Accused by people who have done worse.
She finds it odd that there are
Signs and campaigns for allowing
She finds it odd that being a
Woman means you are weak
And it is an insult to be called
In the society she is in,
She is different.
For there is a girl who does not
Why two people of the same
Cannot marry. Why one group of people
By another that is far worse.
There is a girl that cannot
Why words are offensive or
People use them. She cannot
Why, as a woman, she is not
To wear what she wants without being
If she is white, then she is racist.
If she is black, then she is a criminal.
If she is straight, then she is homophobic.
While It BurnsWhy does a moth flyWhile It Burns8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Directly into the flame?
Perhaps its captivated
By the beauty to be found
In such pure recreation
It flies so surely
Into its own death
Because it believes
The flames of rebirth
Will allow it a second chance
And perhaps that this time...
It will appear a butterfly.
Perhaps this is the only thing
It can force itself to believe
While it burns.
Hate Sleeping AloneEach nightHate Sleeping Alone9 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I lay in bed...
Letting my covers
Try to keep me warm
Though they're never
As warm as your arms.
Letting my dreams
Try to soothe me
Into a deathly calm
Though they're never
As calming as your
Letting hundreds of sheep
Try to caress my eyes
To finally close
Though they shall never
In the way your gentle hand
In mine will.
And while the covers may try
They will never fill the place
Where you slept beside me.
My dreams will never
Fill the emptiness left
Without your breathe.
The sheep will never
Lift me away
Like the comfort of knowing
That your near me
And that you
Will be the first thing I see
When I wake
And each night I stay awake
Because without you
I'd rather not sleep.
viii.you tell them how you've been seeing his face in clouds lately,viii.7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and how fast your heart races,
and how tightly your hands clamp shut,
and how his eyes are just too green
for you to speak.
swaying and smiling,
a sigh in your chest,
you call it love.
they call it fear.
Do You Hate Me?Do You Hate Me?11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
You are sitting on the ground, pulling grass up as you stare at the horizon in boredom. A girl walks up to you, blocking the view of the sun.
"Do you hate me?"
You blink. "What?"
"Do you hate me?" she repeats.
You stare at her. "Uh, why would I hate you?"
"You don't talk to me."
"Just because I don't talk to you doesn't mean I hate you."
"So... you don't hate me?"
You think for a moment. "Well, I don't know you, so I guess I don't hate you."
"So, if you knew me, then would you hate me?"
You stare at her. She strikes you as being very odd. You are unsure of what to say; a part of you wants her to just go away.
"Uh, I don't know... Do you want me to hate you?"
I'm in love with a painterYou are the painter who streaks rainbows onto my lungs,I'm in love with a painter1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
who stains chalks onto my rib cage.
And every time I see you
I get so
o u t
b r e a t h.
I'm in love with a painter
Why Love Is A Four Letter WordLet me tell you why "love" isWhy Love Is A Four Letter Word10 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A four letter word
Its so people will overuse it
So they'll say "love"
Every other time they speak
(A secret plot to replace "that")
So it doesn't sound weird
Like an unpronounceable rumble
Of letters for every time
You feel the need to repeat
And repeat, those four letters.
("I love love love snickers"
Heard that sentence way too many times)
So we'll be confused by it
So easily replacing two letters
Changing "Like" to "Love"
With a flick of the tongue
So we'll adore the simplicity
Of the word that so easily spoken
Can define the thousands of emotions
We feel for each other
So it can be similar
To the words that are so
Easily birthed from it
Like "hope" and "need"
So we won't forget it
Like we sometimes forget
The smaller things about each other
Or even the larger things,
But those four letters
Will stay in our memories
And on our tongues.
"Love" is a four letter word
Because while nothing can define
They way that I feel for you
They way your ey
It's NotIt's not the lipstick glossIt's Not2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
that makes a kiss
the warm pulse beating through
It's not their size
but the words they whisper,
It's not the color
nor the length
nor the glint
of her hair
that makes her special
it is her smile
in the falling rain
reflecting the joy
of yet another Spring,
It's not the time
she spent getting beautiful
that makes her so
but in fact
it is the hours
she was besides my bed
when I was sick
and in fact
it is the minutes
I could hear her breathe
in my embrace
AND in fact
it is the seconds
I saw her cry
(out of happiness)
Because she's beautiful.
It's not the clothes,
nor the jewellery,
nor the colored nails,
nor the drawn-in brows,
nor the words she says
to other people,
and neither it is
It is her mind
that entertains my poems,
it is her charm
that paints my cheeks
and averts my shy eyes from her
It is her soul,
that I love.
Fan Fiction for the UnconvincedThis is an attempt at an informal essay on fan fiction, by a middle-aged woman who reads and enjoys fan fiction. It won’t really be a balanced argument—I will be concentrating more on what I see as the positive aspects of the genre. I’ll be using mainly examples from the Sherlock fandom, that being the fandom I’m most familiar with. (There will be some spoilers, especially for series 3, so if you haven’t seen the series yet and you intend to, it might be wise to give this essay a miss.)Fan Fiction for the Unconvinced5 months ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Why do I read fan fiction? The basic reason is exactly the same reason I read anything—some of it is of astounding quality. I think fan fiction is often saddled with the image of being written solely by beginners and being uniformly terrible. But it’s like any other kind of fiction. You have beginners, you have the competent, you have the talented and experienced. The very best fan fiction writers write at a professional standard; the very best sto
I AmI am single,I Am9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
but I am loved.
I am not a genius,
but I am intelligent.
I am not breathtaking,
but I have beauty.
I am not a saint,
but I am kind.
To the world,
I am not perfect.
But for someone,
Kids These Days.I don’t have swag.Kids These Days.11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have integrity.
I am not a boss.
I am a leader.
I’m not a hipster.
I do what I like.
I do not live only once.
I live every day of my life.
[Redacted]The sword is mighty[Redacted]6 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The pen mightier still.
Though blades can injure
Words can kill.
or maybe it actually is.thisor maybe it actually is.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a love poem:
this is not about
me and how i hate
the way realism tastes.
this is about you.
this is about how you
are one too many shades arrogant,
how nearly every night you
try to forget that time has
left you behind. this is
about your laugh and the way it
whispers "i can't remember
what i was like before i
became this." and,
if i'm being honest, this is about
how i will never see your too
cocky for your own damn good grin that
makes me go weak in the knees.
this is about you
and how you're not real and how i wish
to god that i wasn't either.