PretendI should stop pretending that:Pretend3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
grapefruit and lemon juice
aren't my little gods
I don't want to stuff myself
with chai and chocolate
I don't wish I had the courage
to freeze off fat with liquid nitrogen.
The BlueSo here I stand,The Blue3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the air,
Like a cloud,
Oh how I stare.
Creeping, creeping, through the blue,
Like a snake down in the grass.
No one can see.
No one can pass.
Creeping, creeping, through the blue.
Bring yourself up one step,
Then you'll be beginning again.
If you give me your one heart,
I'll give you something worth the bargain.
Creeping, creeping, through the blue,
Like a snake down in the grass.
No one can see,
No one can pass.
Creeping, creeping, through the blue.
Slash one here,
And slash one there.
Your screams flow through me,
Oh how I can bare.
Creeping, creeping through the red,
Like a demon in a flame.
The art of being human.What does it mean to be human?The art of being human.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sleep with one eye open child,
the worst is yet to come.
You have no more hope to hide,
It's time to fight or run.
The night air is stained by lights both red and blue
and the phantoms are out tonight.
The daggers are calling and waiting for you.
Your blessing became a blight.
White coats and checklists,
you are but a number now.
Knuckles of blood and guilt ridden fists,
you are but an animal now.
The dead are awake and the living sleep,
dreaming a violent dream.
The dead are the wise with wisdom to keep,
while the living just wait on the seam.
The edge of the blade.
With one hand we help a man,
with the other we choke his brother.
We're the species with the violent plans,
and choose to be fighters rather than lovers.
In naivetè we sleep.
In anger we cry.
In pretence we weep.
In reality we ever so slowly... die.
This is a remedy for loveThis is a remedy for broken loveThis is a remedy for love3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sit in your room at a quarter to midnight
Switch on Regina Spektor and write
Write till the blistered words of smashed promises
Stop flowing from your hands
Write till the scrunched up drafts
Fill the hole in your heart
Write till the ink
Starts to bind with your blood
And the cool calm words
Start to stitch up your wounded skin
Don't stop till every last drop of words
Is safely scratched upon the page
As dry as your tears are now that you've cried them
Into the pages you wrote
This is a remedy for love
And it doesn't work
The Brightest StarThe Brightest Star3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The brightest star is you.
You used to be a dim star, becoming overpowered by sin.
All of those failures turned into stepping stones of success across a long, winding river.
And you took courage and crossed it.
Look where it led you.
It led you to where you are now, this moment, this second;
You succeeded in so much.
No more of that sin is within you.
You're full of light.
A time in in your life, your heart was full of sin.
Now it's filled with love,
And thanks be to God that you are a wonderful person that came into my life to make it better as well.
You make me happier than I can imagine everyday.
You're NOT a failure.
Never doubt or forget that,
Because I believe in you without a doubt in my mind.
You WILL succeed in New York and will be able to pursue those goals.
You just have to believe it yourself.
Like I said before,
You are not a failure.
I love you.
Rain Of FateRain Of Fate2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Rain Of Fate
The proud flags were torn away
When warfare came
Burning buildings collapsed
Just like the nations which used to stand
We're no longer united
Because we're consumed by fighting
Quarreling over desires / selfishness is earned
Money sets lives on fire / morals are governed
Humanity conquered this gift of nature
Because we were given this curse of failure
Just our simple touch turns beauty into torture
And we won't stop, until we get more and more
The sins of our fathers
The prayers of our mothers
The tears of our sisters
The blood of our brothers
A man-made cycle of life and death
Believing in religion; and abiding by justice
Living a life of crime, and an unmatched wickedness
Made-up answers to made-up questions is all we will get
The last living tree burned
Pity among Mother Earth mourned
The dark clouds shed tear drops of forgotten affection
While we only care about our selves, when the planet needs compassion
The dire cries for help needs to be heard
50 Reasons to Love Yourself01. You are strong.50 Reasons to Love Yourself2 years ago in Letters More Like This
02. You are good enough.
03. You are smart.
04. You are kind.
05. You are brave.
06. You are caring.
07. You are aware.
08. You are important.
09. You are interesting.
10. You are rational.
11. You have talents.
12. You have integrity.
13. You have accomplishments to take pride in.
14. You have potential that you're not even aware of.
15. You are a part of this earth.
16. You have inalienable rights.
17. You have a right to be here.
18. You have purpose (even if you don't know what it is).
19. You are a human being with value.
20. You are capable of love.
21. And you are loved.
22. You deserve to be loved.
23. There are people who would miss you if you went away.
24. You respect others.
25. You have self-respect.
26. You have the power to effect positive change.
27. You are creative.
28. You can create something good.
29. Your life is a gift.
30. You have free will.
31. You've been through adversity and you're a better person because of it.
32. You have made mistake
Fakiru Week 2012 - LightAhiru sat at the windowsill in her cotton nightgown, her legs tucked up to her chest and hugging her yellow duck pillow close to her heart.Fakiru Week 2012 - Light1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Reading didn't do any good. And all of her bird friends were long past asleep already. The only thing she could do to pass the time was wait and watch, the snow falling softly outside the window. Her small breaths fogged up the glass as she leaned the side of her head on it, blue eyes sleepy and half-lidded.
She didn't want to fall asleep before he came home she wanted to be awake to greet him. Fakir would have done the same for her. He definitely would have .
And yet, as the minutes ticked by, Ahiru slowly found herself nodding off, eyes drooping shut and head leaning down to her pillow.
Sitting on a hard surface was not the best position to sleep in, but she managed to doze that way for a while. It was impossible to tell what time it was when she finally woke up. But what managed to finally draw her out of slumber was the abrupt flicke
The Epic of John and Dave-5▲: hello.The Epic of John and Dave-53 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
▼: hey whats up
▲: nothing really. what about you?
▼: man im just chilling over here laying down some beats and messing with my blogs
▼: you know how it is
▼: sup egbert that you
▼: hey man whats up
▲: i just spoke to you, or um... it was a you from a different timeline, i think.
▼: oh man time shenanigans here we go
▼: hold up bro how old are you right now
▼: well fuck guess youre still playing sburb then
▼: give my thirteen year old self a fistbunp for a little shit that kid was pretty damn awesome
▲: wait, how old are you then?
▼: 17 man
▲: wow! hey, do we win the game?
▼: no im speaking you from a deserted earth
▼: were living in the wreckage like fucking planet of the apes
▼: stumbling across the statue of liberty all oh goddamnit this is earth isnt it well fuck
▼: but seriously bro were fine i probably cant say much
ApologyI'm sorry,Apology4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I never saw it coming.
I was caught unaware.
I was never prepared.
I didn't protect my heart.
You were amazing.
You were irresistible.
You touched me in too many ways.
I became so addicted.
I want to make love to you.
I want to protect you.
I want to make a life with you.
I want to take care of you.
I couldn't be stronger.
I didn't try hard enough.
I couldn't halt my descent.
I couldn't get you out.
I fell in love.
i'm not one for apologiesthe earth is crashing down around me, the sky is sailing away and my tin can dreams are trailing behind it making as much noise as they can, screaming catch us if you can. i need a friend with talking hands, one who will say what they are feeling as their touch demands. my heart is sinking into my stomach like a billion grains of sand, i'm getting sick, time to turn over, my arms are too weak for hand stands.i'm not one for apologies4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i don't think you will worry but i'm insisting that you don't; i have made it my goal to get my fingers pinched in doors and my knees constricted by telephone cords. i plan on wounded trials and heavy empty hours displacing the air in my lungs until i wash up on indebted shores. i need a friend who doesn't see me as another chore, i'm getting sick, it's time to turn over, my immune system's too weak for any more.
believe me when i say i refuse to be a mess, believe that i am not romantic but an aphrodisiac at best. i can feel birth pains for something bigger, contracting within th
weak bones and sleep-starved eyeshe made wishes on gunshotsweak bones and sleep-starved eyes2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and sent out empty prayers to an empty sky
and sometimes, while he slept
[a vicious, taunting, halfway-sort-of-not-really-asleep-at-all sleep]
his fists would clutch at air,
and his swollen strawberry lips would twist and
and his too-young, too-pale face would
grimace and scrunch
and when he cried out,
the babies in the next room would start crying too.
eventually the shadows under his eyes got
that they swallowed him up
and his arms got scarred and broken from all the times
he'd checked to see if his heart was still beating
and he stopped having nightmares because he
stopped chasing sleep;
he spent his nights awake,
staring up at the empty sky,
tuning out the gunshots and keeping his prayers to himself.
disorderly, not a disorder.All of my friends have pretty eyes, because I'm convinced that they might see a prettier world than me. Mine are little more than holes in my face, originally hazel but usually b l a c k.disorderly, not a disorder.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Our garden is filled with flora of all scents, flavours and appearances, but all I see are the misshaped petals, hunchbacked spines and corroded barb wires regardless of their individual p-pulchritude. I value the withering and the withered, those with no shell for their vertebrae and no petals for their stigmas. At least they are so glaringly flawed that there are no foibles left to unknowingly search for.
I fall in love with silhouettes because anything tangible h u r t s. Little jagged pills are the bane of my life and concealed, violent red paths narrate a story of everything in it. I spent so much time in hospitals that everything smells like grief and disinfectant.
I see imagination three-dimensionally. The dark shadows curling around my body aren't so false anymore. They ar
IT'S PAST ONE AMtell me, is it the eyes? is it the small, one-toned coffee eyes like stainsIT'S PAST ONE AM4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on wrinkled sweat-white shirts or wrinkled pages of poetry i will throw away?
is it the coffee of my skin, not enough cream, to hell with the sugar,
instant decaf not mixed to its entirety, not capable of keeping you awake?
is it the green swamp adder scarfed in my coiled intestines, that thrashes
every time i am forced to swallow something i am too proud to accept?
is it the crow, fuck hummingbirds, cawing and flapping in my chest like a duck
on water mistakenly hooked with a first-time fisherman's pole?
fuck crows, is it the great white ramming its broad head against the inside
of my breastbone, breaking down my feeble studs so that my air insulators
may collapse and leave me cold? tell me, is it the fucking shark unable to turn
around, charging for your hands with teeth teeth teeth as they hover near my
heart, waiting to clamp and keep you here?
tell me, is it the eyes? because i don't see a word worth readi
wanderlustshe was a s e v e n t e e n year old girl from nowhere [or was it everywhere?] with dark hair and long eyelashes and skin that was always pale white. when she was young she played in the poppy fields of greece and when she got older her tongue started yearning to speak italian and russian so that she could travel to other far off places.wanderlust3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she was born on a friday between two ice storms, and the first word she ever heard was b e a u t y. her mama told her that when she first opened her dark blue eyes, her pupil was surrounded by a ring of pure white. the blue stayed but the white turned to green [and from then on her eyes were always her favorite feature].
she always had nightmares, never good dreams, but maybe that's because she could never stop d r e a m i n g with her eyes open. all she ever wanted was dirt roads and stars and mud under her fingernails.
[maybe one day, when she's older, she'll take a crinkly old map and
The NothingsThe NothingsThe Nothings2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Once upon a time there were somethings.
Somethings where the little girl with the pigtails would come bouncing home talking to her mother about what she did at school today, how was her friend Jimmy, and oh! she almost forgot her crayons, but luckily Emily was there to remind her.
She would prattle on and on delightedly while her mother listened, her euphoria taking her higher than the moon.
She insisted on acting "grown up".
She would sit, straight and stark, and never forget to keep her elbows off the table and her napkin on her lap. She would always say "yes, ma'am," , "no, ma'am,", "thank you very, very muchly," and "excuse me!", over-enunciating the words and biting off the ends of sentences, so that to her they sounded sharp and crisp, just like her daddy talked on the phone, and she knew everyone wanted to be like daddy.
Her parents shared subtle smiles, hidden amidst floral handkerchiefs.
She became a butterfly, she said. She wanted to
A Life Lesson on How to Livei.A Life Lesson on How to Live3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Learn how to hear when there is no sound. Listen to the last heartbeats of a dead man, for they will tell you how to hold on, and how to let go, but you are the only one that can choose between the two. Hear the sorrow of a silent criminal at a confessional, because it can tell you where the line is and how to cross, but it's up to you to decide if you want to or not. Listen to the chemistry between two lovers and you will learn how to appreciate the love in everything people do.
Uncover how to see in the darkness, because it's a whole lot more important than anyone ever expects. Look at the hues of red in the night sky and the neon colors beneath the snow and they will show you that what you see is what you get, but not everything is what it seems. See the emptiness that shines from fake smiles and you will realize that everybody lies. Look at the world with your eyes closed and determine that this is the only way you will ever be able to see. Now decide if you want to or not.
What Counts"I'll go get us some drinks," she said, gently touching his hand as she stood up from the park bench.What Counts4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He nodded, resisting the urge to grab onto her hand firmly and tell her to stay. But he didn't. He only listened to the clip-clop of her heels hit the pavement as the sound merged into the bustle of the park.
To him, it still felt weird. To be able to hear all these daily noises and perfectly picture the in his mind's eye yet never being able to see them again frustrated him. The wind howled differently as it creaked tree branches. The sun had a different warmth to it when it couldn't be seen.
He fiddled with his hands, head tilted down as if he were staring at them. Thoughts buzzed through his head. How he wanted to see Sam in her prom dress. How he would never be able to watch sunsets with her at the beach anymore. How he would never be able to see the folds on her forehead when she was
The ShoeboxI got a brand new heart todayThe Shoebox7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
it's nice and shiny too...
I'm gonna leave the wrapper on
till I find the one girl who
I'd like to share my new heart with...
Oh look! That spot is blue!
My new heart has accessories...
love, joy, hope, and trust.
I better read the instructions,
I don't want the thing to bust.
"Warning: Please read before you open"
HA! It's not from toys 'r us.
The Use and Care section tells me
to "Give it plenty sun"
"Don't over water your new heart,
tears make the colors run."
"Be careful who you share it with,
your new heart's yield is: 1"
"For best results use every day"
That shouldn't be too hard.
"There is a risk of burning when
you turn on your new heart."
"Don't leave it out there for too long,
or it will grow cold and hard."
So I met this girl on campus who
likes the sun, yellow, and flowers...
I got to thinking, "This could work"
And bought her some sun flowers.
I lent her my heart, and then we played
for days that seemed like hours.
But in the end, we were just
Ink Stain BruisesI don't hold a pen theInk Stain Bruises3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
way you're supposed to.
I write like a little
to scratch my sick words out
as my hand drags itself
across the page.
And I can't
tell you how much the
on my knuckles look like
from beating myself
And I can't
stand to see me
I Am.I am the silhouetted figure standing alone in the dead yellow glow of the single street lamp's flickering, dying light. The cold wind blows the debris along the cracked street, shifting the image but not the feeling. No one will fix it. No one is even here. I stand alone keeping company to the tiny, hopeful sprouts emerging from the long jagged cracks in the ancient cement, starting their lives in the place that others have died. I stay with them, watching over them to make sure their tranquil growth is not disturbed. Neither of us have anywhere else to go, so why not stay? Every second spent is not wasted because it is spent doing something. I am an outcast because of my wasting of time, because if time is money, then I am all too rich. I spend the rest of my time making sure that the new growing sprouts live long enough to be able to make their own time. How did it happen that the outcast from one society became the salvation of another?I Am.4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I am the friend of the darkness,
Nightmare NecromanticStanding clearNightmare Necromantic5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
of violent fears.
To lose what's left,
Of happy days
and skies of gray.
Of guide forlorn
and life unborn.
Lies of rise necromantic,
chaos fear and panic.
Of fallen men
to rise again.
Drained of mind
to follow blind.
scarred and torn.
void of breath.
Screams of pain,
screams in vain.
In hope we cry
that death may die.