Lose YourselfLose Yourself3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
No one understands me as I fall to the ground
My heart is breaking with each thump and each pound
It all started back when my life was so great
I had the one I loved and I made no mistakes
But once it all shattered I fell to the floor
And I did not regret all I wanted was more
The pain that I craved was beginning to be
Everything that made me feel free
My head was spinning and I felt like a mess
I wanted to sleep and felt more than less
The bones that would jut from the cave of my waist
Was almost as bad as the blood I could taste
My knuckles were raw and my throat was soar
What was I even living for?
I always felt dizzy and wanted to cry
And I even remember wanting to die
My life was broken, my breathing was patterned
Sadly I had nothing left in my life that mattered
Tears streamed down my pale, white cheeks
And the blood on my lips began to reek
Eyes so blue are black, dark holes
I lost the connection of my soul
But as I lose myself and watch it drain
There is another mark on my hear
BlueAs I watch the scene unfolding before my eyes, there is only one word that comes to mind.Blue2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It is pitiful to see someone, someone who you thought was so powerful she could crush the world in her hand, floundering helplessly about and drowning in her watery grave: a pool of deep, blue water that she had dug and flung herself inside.
I cannot feel her pain, of course. I cannot feel anything, for that matter. I can only feel the deepness of the dark blue. It is the sort of blue that makes your stomach churn and your heart race. It is the sort of blue that slowly sucks you in, and before you know it, you're falling --- crashing beneath the surface and being pulled by watery, ghost-like hands towards its depths. It is the sort of blue that I hate the most.
And I hate blue.
Kelly When I was six, I was going through alot of stress. I was being bullied at school and, as you can expect, the school did hardly anything about it. Then back at home, my parents were always too busy with their own lives to play with me or really even talk to me. I felt very sad and alone during this period of my life. However, there was one person that helped me get through this time in my life. That person was my big sister, Kelly.Kelly3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Kelly and I weren't really sisters at all. In fact, she was just our neighbor's 16 year old daughter. She was blonde haired, loved the color pink, and was the best friend I could ever dream of having. I remember the day we met. I was on the swing set crying because everyone was too busy to pay attention to me. She came over to me and asked me why I was crying. I told her that nobody wanted to spend any of their time with me and then she offered to play with me. I agreed and we went to her house and played Monopoly, even th
Craving YouI woke up craving you this morning.Craving You1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is that weird?
I rolled over and the light hit my face
and for a moment I wished it was your lips
soft, kissing my cheek instead of the sun.
I reached for a moment, for your hand,
to intertwine my fingers between yours
it seemed as though I'd be reaching forever.
I woke up longing for your touch,
for your hands, gentle,
tracing down my spine.
I imagined you stroking my hair,
leaning down to whisper "good morning beautiful"
and I swear I could feel your breath on my ear.
I moved my legs, searching for yours
so we could play footsies
underneath the sheets, our sheets.
I woke up craving you this morning.
What a lonely morning it turned out to be,
when I opened my eyes and you weren't next to me.
HopeHope.Hope3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
One of the greatest allies you could have, and yet at the same time, also one of your greatest enemies. For what else could life your spirits in your time of greatest need, but also blind you to the truth, cause you to view the world through distorted lenses?
And when she deserts you, she'll leave you empty, because by that time, you won't be able to live without her. Despite what you might think, she isn't to be trusted; her whispers of a beautiful world that will come, if you only just wait, are nothing but delusions, lies.
But Hope, she is powerful, far more than any mere mortal like you or I, and even knowing all this, you will believe her. That is a fact, one that will never change. Because it is instinct to cling to any thread of light, and any creature will follow instinct, even if it knows that that thread is false, that what might be its saviour today will almost definitely lead to its downfall again eventually.
So keep trusting that beautiful little trickster, because t
The Melancholy MillinerTitle: The Melancholy MillinerThe Melancholy Milliner5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Fandom: Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland/Edward Scissorhands/ Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Pairing: Burton Trio (Hatter/Edward centered)
Disclaimer: I don't own these darling characters, but I slash them. Huzzah.
Summary: Angsty, fluffy drabble about lonely Hatter and sweet little Edward.
Author's note: I recently bought a book on the upcoming Alice in Wonderland movie that revealed some very interesting details, and so this is my way of tantelizing you a bit without giving too much away.
It had been a long, melancholy day in Hatter's opinion. Thackery, better known as The March Hare, was in a fine, foul mood, ranting about how careless he had been to arrive late to their party. The March Hare never took into account however, that his tea-party had been going on for an absurd length of time and one could hardly be expected to arrive on-time to something that never ended or really began.
It was not just this annoyan
Confession of Betrayal"There was a time when I feared you, avoided you, for what you were - before I knew the person you were. A time, even, when I believed that because of that, you would have to die. That you were evil because of that irrational fear, and that all things 'evil' must be eradicated." She sighed deeply, clutching his hand for support as she spoke the truth that she'd never told him.Confession of Betrayal3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"When you first spoke to me, and I answered, I lied. I was willing to sacrifice my own morals if it meant reaching my goal. Killing you."
He watched her expressionlessly as she confessed what she had meant to tell him long ago, but had never had the chance - or perhaps the courage - to do so.
"And what made you change your mind?"
She blushed and glanced downwards, before continuing. "I-it... Honestly, I don't know. I was..." She mumbled incoherently to herself, and he patiently waited for her to speak up again.
"Every day, I plotted against you, even while I gave you fake smiles and claimed to be some
Die deutsche Passion english translationDie deutsche Passion english translation2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
by Uwe Lammler
We live in tribes, where strife and envy
From the edge of history cries out for fratricide
We dream in forests with dense foliage,
In the fog and below the silence of the Rauhnacht,
We reign in legends, sung from far away,
Noone penetrates in the glow of our Sun Fire
And lately became a name our taint and reward
But even our becoming was always passion.
The wall of the Romans cut through our land,
The West and the South supported the enemy
And bought from outside with good profit
Amber and various household items made of tin,
But even the tamed in the Roman state,
Thought about renunciation and vile treachery,
Wakes up in the Cherusci the old teutonic spirit,
Varus will become the victim of the German passion.
Who doesn´t avoid horror, should be warned,
Death won´t be longer a suffering, the death will be passion,
Who stays close to the source, who gives birth to life,
Laughs at the fools who adorn shamefully themselves,
Barbar, which was meant a
Tale of TwoHe is the one nobody sees.Tale of Two2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The boy in the corner of the room, the one who speaks only when spoken to, that constant, shadow-like presence that is noticed only by others when he's gone, and they wonder why they feel as though something is missing.
It is no wonder, then, that one of the things he seeks the most is recognition. This, and one, two, a few people he might be able to call "friends."
And who can blame such a person for making the choices he did?
"You'll be one of us."
This is the message they feed him, the words that he has longed for more than anything else, words he needs to hear with almost the same necessity as the need to breathe, or the need for nourishment.
But of course, it could never be as simple as this. Because, of course, no great gift is given without a single catch.
"Just do as we do. Forget what they told you was right. If you want to fit in, then you'll have to be like us."
The notion entices him in a way nothing else has -- give up a small fr
The Big WorldTitle: The Big WorldThe Big World5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Pairing: Edward Scissorhands/Willy Wonka
Summary: This was my birthday present from my husband and it was so awesome I decided to share it with all of you. Special thanks to Hellsingfanchick for helping him with this!
The sun was setting upon suburbia. As it did, the nightly rituals of television, bowling, gossip, and meatloaf were taking place. Children rode their bikes into garages, racing their fathers home from work. Mothers worked over ovens or microwaves for TV dinners. Mindless sitcoms ruled the airwaves as American families surrounded the television. 2% milk was chugged down out of soap stained glasses; silverware scrapped plates, shoving pieces of meat into the last remaining blob of sauce.
This was an all-American suburb. Men were either too fat or too skinny; women were glued to their phones and their stories. A nameles
That Which is Lost chapter 2Coffee never smelled this bad. Normally Steve would start his day with a cup of the stuff, but with how it smelled he didn't think he could stomach it. He was sure it would make him puke. Not that he hadn't thrown up earlier that morning. And yesterday morning and the morning before that. If it weren't for the fact that he seemed to feel fine for the rest of the day except when he was puking he would think he had caught something. Actually he thought there was a good chance he was sick with something, but not with anything he recognized. For all he knew he could be over reacting and it was just something he ate.That Which is Lost chapter 22 years ago in Drama More Like This
Nonetheless, he decided to skip the coffee and go straight to looking for breakfast. Both the refrigerator and the pantry were stocked with a wide variety of foods to suit at least six different palettes. Steve had all of this to choose from and yet, for some reason, only Thor's p
The Ashes of My HeartThe Ashes of My Heart3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The ash that was once my heart
Flew away in the cold,
And unforgiving wind of reality.
Dancing with its twirls
Leaving a little bit of my heart
Here and there
So I could never recollect it.
All I've got now is a shadow of a soul
And who knows how long I have
Until that disappears in the world
Just like everything else that concerns me-
No one knows
And they never will.
WishHope.Wish3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Though some might claim that it brings with it only a futile sense of expectation, few can deny that without it, many a despairing soul would have long ago lost their minds and their lives.
So, fueled by this same hope, and also instinct embedded in our very nature we will grasp for a thread of light when faced with naught but darkness, no matter how fragile that thread might seem to be. Even a tenuous connection to hope, after all, is far better than none at all.
For the desperate will cling to these threads, dreaming of a future filled with the joy that their lives lack, no matter how impossible that future might be.
And from that one action, they somehow gain the strength to carry on when otherwise they might have given up.
Let not, though,
Mental Illness UntreatedFeel like crying, feel like dying,Mental Illness Untreated11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Don't know whats come over me.
Always spinning, never winning,
Need to stop, can no one see?
No one hearing, no one seeing,
Someone stop and hear my plea!
No one helped me, no one saw me,
Spinning stopped, do you miss me?
When I DieWhen I Die3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I die
Will you sing for me?
When I die
Will you cry?
When I die
Will you send flowers to my grave?
When I die
Will you be brave?
When I die
Will you still love me?
When I die
Will you let me be?
When I die
Will you throw away the ring?
When I die
Will you walk over the land like a king?
When I die
I will always be with you
By your side
And sing to you all day long.
Letter to my Love To whom it may concern,Letter to my Love6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know you. I know all about you, and all the things youve done. I know about your parents, always fighting. I know about the flowers you hid in your pockets in case you met the girl you were always waiting for. I know about the time you ran away but came right back, because you were afraid. I know about your secret fear of spiders. I know about how you almost thought you were gay in the seventh grade. I know about the questions you didnt stop asking, and the answers you never found.
Make me a promise. Promise me that when the leaves start to fall, well lie in the foliage and let it paint our souls red and orange and find shapes in the clouds together. Promise me that when I tell you about all the lies, youll pull me into your arms and stroke my hair and tell me that its okay, even though well both know its not. Promise me that youll mean it when you say you love me.
When I was little,
That NightThat Night3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I will do what I want! I don't have to tell you guys all the time!" I winced a little as I heard my brothers' voice yelling. I really didn't know why he was yelling so much, and always at our parents anymore. I mean I know that Toshi sometimes didn't agree with what they did, but he normally listened to them. As of late, that had changed.
I was in my room, in my pajamas, and hugging one of my teddy bears close to me. My room might be on the second floor of our home, but I could still hear them clearly when they were yelling. Just like I could hear my brother coming up the stairs right now. How did I know it was him? There were a few reasons: a) he was muttering: b) he was the only one that stomped up here. The room that our parents used was down the stairs.
"Toshi." I said as I climbed off my bed, and out into the hall. He stopped and looked at me in an irritated matter: even though I wasn't sure why.
"What is it, brat?" He always called me that lately. I didn't care. I knew h
Rain, my shelterRain, my shelter3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I love it, everybody else hate it
The sound of raindrops scrambling against my window calm me down
In the rain
I can hide under a blanket
With Me, a pen and a notebook
And just write till my fingers hurt
I can hide from the world
Under a coat so no one can see me
But the best is
In the rain
I can cry
Without anybody noticing
Untitled Tiger Project Part 1Untitled Tiger Project Part 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The strange feeling came over the tigress Penumbra once again. Her paws tingled, her charcoal hair rose as if electrified, and her body felt faintly as if it were being constricted by the air around her. She flicked her ears in irritation, but she was too used to the phenomenon to express actual alarm. She didn't even bother to raise her head off of her single broad foreleg. The sensation would pass, as it always did, and she paid little mind to it.
It was the water leaking from the rusted pipe above her head that caught her interest, though. She had been absent-mindedly watching the pure water fall, drop by drop, from the peripherals of her vision. Now the rhythmic, predictable dripping slowed until it stopped. Then, in defiance of every law of fluid dynamics that Penumbra knew, the drops of water began to rise from the floor and slip back into the pipe. Penumbra stiffened and swivelled her head to watch.
Lailah's Christmas listLailah's Christmas list3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Lailah's old Christmas List
I found this letter while snooping in my mom's room. I wrote this when I was eight years old.
Dear Santa Claus,
My name is Lailah Diana Morales, but you probably already know that. I have decided to write to you things that I want for Christmas. These are things I know mom might not get me. I know you will since I am on your "Nice List". I am on your nice list right? I should be. I better. I know where the north pole is. I'd hate to have to put on my snow suit, fly to the north pole and feed you your own reindeer before shoving you onto thin ice. Don't test me Mr. Claus. I'll ruin Christmas.
Anyway, these are things I want, and shall get from you for Christmas.
Barbie Dream House- I will put it to good use and play with it often, I promise you. First I will paint the pink house black and white. I hate pink. I will say once I am bored with it, it will be burned in a small contained fire in my backyard.
A red bike- Mother won't