Don't CryIll smile,Don't Cry8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Although Im crying inside,
Because thats what you all want to see.
Dont Cry you tell me,
So Ill bottle it up inside,
I smile to make you happy,
Because thats all that matters.
Im dying inside,
But Ill smile
Because thats what makes you happy.
And thats all that matters,
Dont Cry you tell me,
So Ill keep all these
Unhealthy, poisonous tears
Locked in my heart.
Ill seem happy for you,
Because thats what you want,
I wont cry
I wont cry anymore.
No more tears
Unleashed from my breaking heart,
Because you dont want me to cry.
So I wont cry,
Because it makes you happier.
And I want you to be happy
Even if I must suffer my silent misery
Ill be better off if youre happy.
Because my happiness does not matter,
It is yours that counts.
Dont Cry you tell me,
How My Chemical Romance Saved My LifeHow My Chemical Romance Saved My Life3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
And that was that, I guess; The pills weren't working, and so there wasn't anything left to do except put that big old kitchen knife to her throat. Or fly off the top of that big bank building downtown. Or take then entire bottle of those lovely little pills that were supposed to make everything better.
I slunk across the floor of the house, silent at three in the morning, and unmoving under the silver moonlight except for me, trudging along with the bottle of pills in my hands. I laughed a little at the irony.
These pills this medication was supposed to make my life brighter and take away the depression and pain. They hadn't done their job, so they were being commissioned by me to perform one final fling. A contract kill that'd relieve the pain permanently. Seemed about right, to end a futile life that I was tired of living. I'm a fish in a barrel anyways; waiting to be picked out by the stronger, bette
Honor Your FallenOne for the man who answered the call.Honor Your Fallen3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
One for the brother taken too soon.
One for the man who gave his all.
One for hearts made heavy and sad.
One for families torn apart;
One for a boy now without his dad.
One for the onslaught of tears,
One for the new struggles.
One for so many lost years.
One for the mother's only son,
One for the memories;
One more, one more until this war is won.
One for the brother coming home under his Nation's flag,
One for the ultimate sacrifice,
One for the man in the body bag.
One for the love of the fight,
One for family born not of blood.
One for that final flight.
One for the free.
One for you
Until it's just me.
A final salute for those who no longer hurt,
For the boys who paid the ultimate price;
Twenty one guns for my family in the dirt.
maybe you never belonged to meI can still feel the weight of your lips on the curve of my collarbone. Sometimes, it feels paralyzing, crushing, absolute. Sometimes, it feels like home. Like everything.maybe you never belonged to me3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I once heard that when you can't fall asleep it means you're awake in someone else's dream. I wonder which one of us was dreaming that night, because everything was too quiet, too easy, too perfect. You used to fall asleep next to me, your body curled against mine. It's a warmth that's not easy to forget. A hidden smile tucked into pillows and sheets. It's easy to think these things will last forever when you're tangled up together. For me, the strings of my life will always be tangled up in yours. Forever tied to you. No matter hard they attempt to fray. To fall apart. To sever.
It's snowing for the first time this year. Soft and gentle, glittering in the sunlight, falling in large flakes, easy and quiet – nothing at all like the storm that rages inside of me, turning up the corners of my heart, throwing shrapnel
if i knew what this meant, i'd tell you.I'm positive that you're still missing the point.if i knew what this meant, i'd tell you.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Your house is just over the hill and I keep gasping for breath like this is the first time I've ever been alone with you and my skin hasn't memorized the loops and whirls that your fingerprints make against the indents of my hipbones. Sometimes, I act like I've never met you before because I'm afraid of losing the excitement of falling in love. I once heard that everyone is just looking for the next big thing someone brighter and better than me. You've already started calling me "annie," because you got bored with my real name. I wonder if I should be scared. I wonder if I should be worried. I wonder why all my clothes still smell like you and why I'm counting off the minutes until I can see your face again. It's gotten impossible to know whether I'm telling this story backwards or forwards. We're all in the wrong order.
Every time I sit down to tell you my history, I realize that I'm always talking about things that didn't happe
these feelings should be finiteI'm terrified and I know there's nothing unique about this, but I'm standing here completely out of touch with the rest of the world, realizing for the first time that we all feel things a little bit differently, which is why this doesn't hurt for you at all. I figure the only logical reason for how you could do this as if it means nothing was if it really did mean nothing at all for you. It's easier to hate you this way. It's easier to forget you without the burn of your kiss against my skin. It's easier to stay mad if I don't have to remember the way that it felt. Most of all, I can forget this as if it's a memory in someone else's lifetime if I accept the fact that we're all different. I can be different like you. I can let this mean nothing.these feelings should be finite4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I could mean nothing if you let me. If I let me.
You talk in big words that I get sick of hearing after awhile with big ideas and wide eyes and a small heart. I once heard that you can only love something so hard, for so long, before the feelin
justit started out as a message of honest to god tearsjust3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
honest to god honesty
and she was saying she was saying she was
a mistake and we were we were mistaking
meaningless signs for road signs to somewhere where
the great elsewhere
and a qu-quiet whisper-per transformed
twisted twisted and bent and bled and
her voice her voice became this monster this monster of
feedback and static and feedback and feedback and heartache
(the sound of heartache rips
the space between your ears till you are nothing
left but lightness and heaviness all in one space all in one space
and you can't breathe you can't breathe you can't
fucking breathe or hear or see or taste a goddamn thing)
it was all noise noise noise noise no-oise-se
bouncing in the fissures of a love-torn mind
and it was it was the sensation of falling
then the greatness of the jumbled sound
dissipated like a f o g
you saw along the path
FableMoon cloaksFable3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(and you are)
left clad in only
the softest of
i'm not your symphony but i'm orchestrated anywaysit's not easy to explain --i'm not your symphony but i'm orchestrated anyways3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but i'm a rushed symphony of heartbeats, quick breaths and hiccups. i'm not made of skin and bones, but a complicated sentence structure and thoughts that i spew out before i even finish them.
i'm messy in all the wrong ways.
and i'm not right in any of the ways that matter. but still you're always here, picking me up when i fall, kissing me goodnight, making a life with me one day at a time. and you haven't gone yet but i'm always moving so how long can you stay. how long can i expect it. how long is too long when you're living and loving and breathing and hell, if i can't stay still i'll mess this up for sure. i just need a minute, to think, to stop, to be. so i can be yours forever.
all i know is that i'm a constant frenzy -- a kaleidoscope of words and ideas and minutes and clumsy steps and i don't know what i'm doing, but i'm always shifting and moving and growing and going and going
and going and
until i'm standing still again.
no one can stop
On wanting to commit suicide, she wrote.It feels likeOn wanting to commit suicide, she wrote.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
keeping a secret
for a very long
until suddenly you
can't speak for fear
of spitting out
So it rests bitter
on your tongue,
and heavy on your
And you give in
unfinished thoughtsi.unfinished thoughts5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
wake up. i can't stay long.
we are a series of fleeting moments that spell out "bad timing" and "tragic romance". you are broken machinery and i am still trying to decipher the binary code for love. ones and zeros collide into a lump in my throat and suddenly, the idea of saying goodbye makes my fingertips ache and my wrists burn.
do you remember when we kissed? it was a messy pile of metaphors and we were scared that somebody would see us and try to clean us up. i still ghost the back of my hand over my lips and imagine that it's yours, but then i remember that "yours" and "mine" are not words that apply to you and me anymore.
here are three things that i never tried to tell you (though i really should have):
you are so goddamn vain.
you look so beautiful from this angle.
we really are fooling ourselves.
here are two things that i told you everyday ( and that i probably should have told you less):
i love you so much more than you could ever comprehend.
i want to be with yo
after you diedi.after you died6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they asked me if there was something
of yours that I wanted to keep
to keep your eyelashes, your breath,
I said this, and they looked
sad, said they meant did I want your
clothes and possessions, your things
I didn't know what I wanted
cradling my head with my arms and
quietly saying no over and over
dry with the taste of morning sickness
and old seawater
a month later, I wanted all your clothes
I was scrub-faced and tired
of the walls hurt my eyes, buried in wet
towels, sleeping naked on the floor every
I fucked somebody else
after the funeral
"somebody else" sounds wrong now
as if you are still alive, kissing
my shoulder in the morning
I'd taken cocaine
and it made a sound in my ears like a hummingbird
like someone banging on a door or just that tiny high pitched scream
that someone starts to make when they have grown tired of crying
your mother was fixing my hair in the kitchen
a bobby pin tucked
self made maps.she used the lines on her palms as mapsself made maps.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
following the valleys to ends of streets
and through strangers beds
to somewhere she hadn't ever heard of
but must have been right as the lines
fell off the edge and she simply
couldn't go any further without their guidence.
i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.every time it rains,i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i think of you.
because that's all there is--
and a quick breath of air
before we all go under.
every time it rains,
i swear i'm drowning.
burboun bottlesi invited you to come sit with me, with doe eyes and innocence.burboun bottles6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
you let a finger trace the patterns my scars stained into my skin,
my wrist exposed just barely by the sleeve of my sweatshirt. i
told you you could tell me your problems, that i'd take them for
myself and i'd make everything better. your hollow cheekbones
were as sharp as the mania piercing my subconcious, and your
eyes were as hollow as my bone structure. light as a feather
you planted kisses on my forehead and quiet as a mouse i took
your grief, bestowing it upon myself in silence. how masochistic.
we exchanged names, tongues and silence. we spoke in quivering
quips of pseudo-poetry, gasping and shuddering as we muttered
on and on; angst ridden couplets that we couldn't remember if
our life depended on it. our skeletons rocked and the cracks were
audible as we snapped inside. 'call me.', i remember him asking
but he failed to give me his number, maybe on purpose. maybe.
i walked through life carrying his problems. the f
larry's sisteri imagine the slight, yellow-penciled body of my post-adolescence self, dipping the mined waters of junior high. young teens prowled the bathrooms, preening and tousling their hair, reflecting through the tarnished mirrors with faces of question like, where d'you come from, who's your brother, what's his favorite color.larry's sister3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
did he fuck hannah?
and i remember the word fuck like an arbitrary sanctification. my mind corroded to fit the word precisely between my lips and lunged from the bed of my lilly-pad tongue.
i didn't even know what it meant.
'oh yeah,' i'd tell them. they were big girls. they always were. the ones who'd pull you by your roots into a bathroom stall and spit things at you like, where the fuck you come from.
then i'd say, you know larry, the mexican-looking boy downstairs. that's my brother.
and i wouldn't tell them that he was a virgin because larry had told me two nights before the big first day that being a virgin was like wearing yellow w
Leech - PrologueLeech - Prologue4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Neil Tesla sat in a luxurious office space of an impressively large building. To him, it seemed that the owner of this room was going out of his way to enthrall him. Every inch of the place was decorated with some form of artistic antiquity, obviously with the intention of awing its visitors. Tesla noticed that most of these relics were of Egyptian origin, making him feel as if he was really sitting in the tomb of some forgotten pharaoh. The one which struck him the most was a mask of Osiris, the God of the Underworld, which hung high above him on the wall, looming overhead like a circling vulture. He had never been a particularly "spiritual" person. However, that mask did have a way of bringing out his superstitious side. It reminded him that maybe, just maybe, the world was not entirely under humanity's control...
And that no matter how firmly we may master our own destinies, there is still one fate that we can never escape.
Other treasures clutter
he's on the wrong side of a.mhe says, "Time healshe's on the wrong side of a.m1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
everything," and I remember because he
crushes his wrist watch under his heels
as he directs answers into my
"Success is never giving it
"Life," he says, "fancies itself a
generous, well-worded testimonial, brimmed
with lucky dimes and trying times fought
back with 32-yellowed grins
dawned with tax stress and grime." I resign
as he signs a cursive lie into
papers he claims unimportant.
his smiles are a cold
kind of tight-lipped and scarce
with glimpses of unabridged sunlight
when he isn't
"You're not beautiful," he says, "you're
human and that's about as good as it gets." I
hold in a heart burn,
retorts churning sleepless and shivering under
my bruised, silenced tongue as he
slides two fingers in the flute of my wrist
to check a vitality, ever since been declared
his hands have always been
other people's heartbreakfifteen year old father,other people's heartbreak3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and he can't uncrumple the dollar bills for the automatic teller machine
where the bamboo walls
girls veiled in smoke,
thin-strap tank tops
the click and hiss of a soda can
she miscarries in the basement on a hot summer night,
the dregs of her uncle's offspring draining from her in hemorrhagic spurts,
her fingers bruising on the unsheeted mattress
mom and pop wake to a phone call from the county coroner
he is blue from the lake water and green from the nausea
and grandma knits afghans, over
raw collection of poemsand i am missing youraw collection of poems3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i am fucking
when you climb into bed, think of me. the
rosary that downs the bottom of your
drawer is a silly reminder of what i had
taken from you
ice cold and his
i was warm
i look at myself and i see lines
impending on themselves
bending from the weight of my soul.
i am heavy
i am middle-afternoon
and i can't uncurl myself
from the telephone or the
idea of you
we work like polar
but i swear to god i was meant to
meld with you;
you go north
and i south,
thwarting what we built
between force fields
i look at my self and i see lines,
cracks in the mirror
all down my thighs where you
broke me in two
i will come back together
(only to be
split back a
part by you)
come home, come
i need early morning
i need lack of sleep
and i need the cold
to my soul
just to stop
the world siphoning the
air from me
i am not doing
honey suckleyour dad thought i was polite because i took my shoes off before i fucked you.honey suckle3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he thought it was nice how i always said good morning and good night.
he drove me home for the last time,
that time you asked me to come back and i did
i got on my tippytoes and i kissed you and said i always do.
because i always did.
he's going to be a beautiful young boy, and i know you'll be the most amazing father.
and it has completely broken my heart and shattered my whole world.
and every stereotypical, cliched cliche.
but god, i really can't
can't wish you anything but the best.
you stopped my whole world, you shook my mind,
you changed me.
the feather to the bear.
the clockwork liari. we dusted dreams off people like the first snowflakes of the season. you'd take one and rest it on the center of your tongue because you hated the taste of ice cream and wanted to reset what cold tasted like to you.the clockwork liar3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
you taught me that the cold could be bitter, and so could people's dreams.
you drank out of out-of-order wells because you believed they still worked and that the government was keeping it all to itself.
i never realized how insane you made me before i wrote this all down.
ii. i wished on the sun because i ran out of shooting stars.
and just to spite me, you began wishing on raindrops because you believed that they were so many, one of them was bound to remember you.
but we both ended up laughing hysterically with protruding knives on a bloodstained floor, didn't we?
iii. i talked to clockwork towers and told them to lie because if they stopped for just a while, all the time in the world would seize.
one human, two human
i'm never careful enoughThe roads here wind in ways that I don't expect.i'm never careful enough4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometimes, I think that dashed yellow line is the only thing that keeps me moving the right way. That keeps me going. Because one wrong move could send me barreling off the highway and the freefall feeling that would come next is not something I'm unfamiliar with. It's the same thing that happens every time I think of you. I can't get over how much this place reminds me of you. I can't get over how little room there is between full-fledged fear and being in love.
Sometimes, I think maybe they're the same thing.
I don't know what keeps bringing me back here. But I find myself coming here more and more when I can't sleep. When I can't stop thinking about you. I drive the same familiar routes. Thinking the same familiar thoughts. Going to the same familiar places. I keep retracing the paths we used to take, thinking that if I follow them back far enough, I'll figure out where we went wrong. The absence of you is familiar. Almost comforting.