3:00 AM3:36 AM3:00 AM4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i forgot to mention:
i'm looking for you.
and did i forget to mention
that you're impossible to find?
i know that you say
you're above technicalities,
but that's not what i think.
so i say, 'let's find each other,
and we'll break a few clichés.'
we'll fall between the cracks,
so honey, don't mind the bruises.
'cause they're just reminders
of how much we love each other.
['cause if you li[v]e for love,
maybe i[t]'ll die for you.]
i miss the dandelion wishes
and waiting for the flowers bloom
in fields of "maybe" and "what if"
so i can pick you a flower for your hair.
'cause you'd look pretty with a
'maybe i love you'
behind your ear.
but that was beforehand.
[now i know]
[and you're not coming.]
it doesn't matter what you said,
you belong to me
the bruises are proof.
you think he'll save you?
did you think i wouldn't notice?
did you think i wouldn't care?
Diavolo Nuovo-cap 03-Ole Santan!Diavolo Nuovo-cap 03-Ole Santan!3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Diavolo Nuovo es una serie original de Producciones Gran Torre, se prohíbe su reproducción o uso por terceros salvo para material de Fan Fics, Fan Arts y Juegos de Rol.
Si alguien hace un Rol de esto que me avisen para entrar XD.
Serie: Diavolo Nuovo.
Género: Sátira religiosa.
Fecha de inicio: 29/08/10, 7:26 pm.
Fecha de término: 03/09/10, 1:36 pm.
Autora: Silvia Vega Gutiérrez, directora jefe de Producciones Gran Torre.
Pamplona, España, 25 de Enero de 2010.
Después de casi 20 días con Demian, Emanuel tenía que aceptar un hecho claro: El león no es como lo pintan y el diablo menos.
Siendo francos la verdad aquellos dos casi no se habían tratado hasta entonces, la primera vez que sus caminos se cruzaron fue cuando Emanuel estaba haciendo ayuno en el desierto y el otro apareció como una sombra funesta (nada que ver con el de ah
For Youshe tells me i'm crazy,For You4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but i can't help myself,
there's something addictive in each word,
[and i swore i'd never feel lust
but i'm a master of lying to myself]
every word you write
stays with me,
but i'm waiting for the right moment
[i'm in the right place, but the wrong time]
you'll never know the monster in my chest,
[is it pathetic
to hate someone i don't even know?]
you don't know the panic i feel
when i think that
you might not be there someday.
[it's the right time, but the wrong place]
did you know that i need you
like i need the stars and sky,
like the sun and moon?
[you are the only star i need]
you're a song that's
running through my head,
and i've memorized the words:
"i love you."
stardust and sun drenchedOn your birthday the sea leaves salt at your doorstepstardust and sun drenched4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And a few broken pieces of seashells
That seem to no longer whisper
Their little quirky remarks
Tickling against your attentive ears
You rush across the front porch, trying to chase shadows
Footsteps against the pavements of summer heat
And when you look up at the bruised sky
Of violet against stark cerulean you start to wonder
Why the sun left you without a farewell and
When would it rise again without a 'morning'?
And the world is oblivious to you
They call you names like
'Girl with a rabbit heart'
'A lost child'
And 'little angel façade'
But in the shadows of your feigning smiles you know it's because
They envy your sun drenched hair
And staccato feet born for dancing
Across the spotlight with specks of flying fairy dust
They say you are just
A ghost of your mother
An empty dream unfulfilled
"Her clock is always
Twenty four hours and three ticks off"
They let you watch sunrises while singing
Childhood tunes with flower in yo
EMO is notEMO is notEMO is not4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
EMO is not
Or hating the world because it doesn't revolve around you
Not locking your door
Or a type of music
EMO is not a person
A feeling of being completely alone
It is not hate the world for not revolving around you
It's hating yourself for not for not being seen by anyone in the world
Not hating the world
Emo means Emotional
Not hate or goth
But the ability to feel and see yourself
And be able to express yourself
Wearing black because you feel you're not part of a set pack
VerdigrisThe sun was red the day Slicker died. She watched him fall a hundred levels, to shatter against a fat, reinforced gas pipe, shards of him breaking across archways and supports and cables, plummeting into the foggy void below. His blud drenched a cluster of backup valves. It dripped from the nozzles, thick and syrupy.Verdigris5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Slicker was unsticking the gears on the Bigtime, with such focus that he paid no attention to the approach of the Quickhand, making its minute-long journey around the Bigtime's face. He had clamped safety cables to the supports, but was careless. The Quickhand caught a support line, and dragged him off the gears, sending him plummeting. The Bigtime was in such poor repair that the other clamps had torn free, sending scraps of rusted steel along with Slicker to his death.
Shine had tried to shout a warning, but Slicker couldn't hear. Or wouldn't. Slicker loved his work, loved the way things ran smoothly when he was finished. Mostly, he loved it when things worked, as
xronosΔε θα μιλήσω για τα ξύλινα πόδια σουxronos3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ούτε για το ζωγραφισμένο σου χαμόγελο και τον λευκό σου χιτώνα
Έχω δει την θλίψη στα μάτια σου-
Από μένα δε ξεφεύγεις.
Άσπονδέ μου φίλε, παράξενε ταξιδευτή
Silent SuffererYou pretend like life,Silent Sufferer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is happy and carefree.
But deep down inside,
You are ready to die.
No one knows your story,
They think it's all ok.
I know what has happened,
Because you were willing to share.
You suffer in silence,
Because you're afraid to speak.
You know you'll be judged,
If you tell them what happened.
Your way of comfort,
Is not the answer.
So I'll do my best to help,
And not let you suffer in silence.
Stop CryingPlease don't cry;Stop Crying4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate seeing you cry.
I wish you had someone to hold you-
someone to wipe away your tears-
someone with a shoulder for you to cry on.
I wish I knew how to make you feel better.
I wanna tell you that you don't deserve this,
but I'm not quite sure I believe that anymore.
You're a bad person;
you treat everybody horribly-
you don't care about anyone.
No, stop crying.
I can't stand to see your tears anymore;
I can't handle seeing you like this.
I like to pretend that you and I aren't the same,
but when I hit the mirror in front of me,
I can see you pull your fist back in pain too.
I hate you;
I hate seeing you like this.
When I turn away from the mirror,
Among Us - Chapter 1Chapter 1 The InvitationAmong Us - Chapter 13 years ago in Emotional More Like This
A year had passed since that fateful battle between his father - Fire Lord Ozai - and his friend - Avatar Aang. A year since he had nearly been killed by his own sister... Zuko turned under the covers of his bed, staring out his large window and pulling a hand up to the large scar in the middle of his chest. Unlike the scar on his eye, this one was still tender, still painful to the touch. He cringed as he felt at it, remembering how he had been struck down and then saved by Katara. He owed her his life.
It became apparent to Zuko now how much he missed his friends. It had only been a year, but it had been a busy year full of royal responsibilities for the newly crowned Fire Lord. All he wanted to do now, even if just for a bit, was to see them again and pretend it was like old times: before he had all those duties that he had once yearned for.
*Well, I am allowed to take a break whenever I please...* thought Zuko to himself as he flipped back over t
PrisonAs long as you are jailed in the past, you will not live free in the present.Prison6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
The Friendly Creeper Part 33The Friendly Creeper Part 333 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I always thought I was the weird one. Ok? You like that? People would make fun of me for being different. Back in my old village, some people would even throw eggs at me, calling me Gilly the Stupid, Gilly the Dull, Gilly the Weird. So one day, I ran away. That's when I first stumbled upon a nest of creepers. All of them were so cute and cuddly. I was so tired that night that I slept in the nest with them. But the mother came back. And she was angry. She couldn't do anything either, because I was snuggled in with the babies.
"She didn't want to explode and kill her babies. Creepers are actually very caring creatures. They just don't want others harming their children, so much of the time, they do what their parents probably did: explode, taking out the intruder.
"The mother realized that I wasn't going to harm the creepers, though, and quietly retreated. So, every day, I would play with the baby creepers. I would teach them how to talk, and soon, we had a whole group of hissing, talki
Lone Charlie ChaplinLone Charlie Chaplin3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Lone Charlie Chaplin
Standing part from the crowd
Why are you so silent?
Is that Hat you hide behind your speakers?
And the funny Mustashe your microphone?
You prance away from policemen,
and dance without a beat.
Your face expresses all the things,
You'd never dare to speak.
With a spring of your cane,
and a hop in your step.
You waddle away from the crowd you just upset.
A heart made out of Gold.
His life lives on,
His story without a fold...
.:Love and Lust:. You were there time and time again..:Love and Lust:.3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But now we are at the fork in the road.
This is something we can not ignore.
We must choose to go left or right together.
Or must we part ways?
But over the years you act like I don't mean anything.
I have tried to walk away but you keep pulling me back.
I crave your touch, Your body.
Why do I feel this way?
We are not together anymore.
And yet you rub your hands on my body.
Melting to your touch and the shivers down my spine from your breath on my neck.
I don't feel right.
We said goodbye. Why are we doing this?
All the love we made can not change this.
Sometimes I wonder if this is only lust.
Feeling your skin against mine.
All the pleasure you make me feel, intoxicating.
The way you hold me close in your strong arms, intensifying.
This night, let us jump into eachother as we become one.
My body loses all control, feeling your warmth inside me.
I lose control.
The line between love and lust becomes blurry.
I just don't want this noght to end.
Your Daughter has Sold Hundreds of Local PapersBut listen to me: I will tell youYour Daughter has Sold Hundreds of Local Papers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
how to love a bedspread;
a car seat; a sun dress
that you cleaned two months ago.
and should they find her
in the breast of a riverbank
or a cabinet,
I will tell you
facts about scavenger birds;
kettles, wakes and how to chair a committee
with a body on your desk,
as scavenger birds do.
Lying in the DarkEverything liesLying in the Dark3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Beyond the skies
Where the flies
Say their goodbyes
Me's and mys
Because they're wise
Ans able to rise
Above our eyes
Away from cries
Our poisonous lies
And poisonous lives
Our biggest disguise
A Coward's HeartWere confidence placed in boundless joyA Coward's Heart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and night airs sweetly scented
dancing to a rhythm band
reveling in senses,
hopeful heart's desire
would ease my
For sparrow I had kenned her,
dreaming tender love;
yet she a raptor
- nothing taming;
matched in kind.
A coward's heart I grimly bear -
from peace estranged;
this blighted soul
For giddy love
- within my grasp,
it's sensual clamor bending;
now felled by fear,
then ravaged there,
and cast adrift
downpour.Drip, drip.downpour.2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mother always said that raindrops were the tears of the people of the heavens, crying because someone great had died.
"Shouldn't it always be raining, then?" I had asked when I first heard this.
"No, only when someone great has died. They might not have known they were great, society might not have known they were great, but the tears still flow," she patiently explained to me.
"Did it rain when Ben-jay-mine Franklin died?" I questioned.
"Yes, it rained when Ben-jay-mine Franklin died," Mother answered.
I waited a moment, then ventured again, "Did it rain when Thomas Ed-son died?"
"Yes, it rained when Thomas Ed-son died."
"Did it rain when Rosey Parks died?"
"Yes, it rained when Rosey Parks died."
"Did it rain when Father died?"
My mother paused for a second, looking down at her clasped hands in her lap. She finally replied, "Your father isn't dead yet." With that, she got up and put me down for a nap, beginning dinner.
It did not rain the d