Letter to the WorldA note in a bottle,Letter to the World2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a message for the world.
'If I scream as loud as I could,
would you be able to hear me?
Thrown into the ocean
for the sea to swallow
the single sentence.
As the sea swallows its prize
she lets out a horrible hollow cry
for the world to hear.
The world does nothing
but capture her scream
and store it for later
when it asks why she cries
and why she hurts.
For if she screams as loud as she could
would the world listen?
Or is it just a message in a bottle
meant to be swallowed by the sea?
Pokemon Creepypasta- .000Pokemon Creepypasta- .0002 weeks ago in Horror More Like This
Numbers. That is the first thing I remember. Numbers filling up every part of my design, in the same way that cells fill up a human. In every part of me, every detail. Numbers. They made me more than just a mass of pixels, randomly arranged. They gave me strength, they gave me a personality. Numbers made me a Pokémon. Along with me, 151 pokemon were also made. All of them were mere copies, inspired from other life forms. I was the only one who was truly unique, for I was the one who connected two powerful pokemon species: kangaskhan and cubone. I was born from the suffering of a baby kangaskhan, over the death of it’s mother. That was my original form; a baby kangaskhan with no mother. I would stay by the body, and when only bones were left, wear her skull and carry her bone as a weapon. I would then be identified as cubone. Thus, I joint two powerful pokemon families together. I was proud of my identity, although when I was created in the first games, pokemon red and blue,
True and HaikuArt is lingerie;True and Haiku4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
silk and satin draped upon
our starving egos.
bipolar hearts.we use to watch Fight Club together, because she said that it made her feel a little less alone, and i could never reply so i held her in my lap.bipolar hearts.5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
and she told me she was kalea's dizzy mind.
and in real life, you would think nothing of anything really, because she watches the birds fly just like you do. the morning rises on the same side of her window, and she can watch the clock tick away hours, just like you.
and she told me she was kalea's spinal cord.
i watched her pick at her fingernails for too long, and always decided i would leave as soon as they started bleeding. her arms are full of scars where she thought she felt something crawling up her skin, only to find she was still alone. i told her i was here, but she turned over(and i can still hear her uneven breathing)
and she told me she was <i>
YouYou2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The reflection in the Mirror is no longer broken,
The flower in Bloom no longer stained,
The song that I Sing is no longer sad,
The Unconditional love I feel is no longer strained.
The Supernova I see is an explosion of desire,
The Unknown no longer compels me to fear,
If a Hospital is where I seal my fate,
Let it be known I died loving You, my dear.
Fairytale LoverWe were the starsFairytale Lover5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of our eternal night
Time ceased to exist
all else faded away,
secure in my arms
until i open my eyes
to a blankness
mirroring my heart;
the reverie i clutched
a mere shadow
a decrepit dream.
a sharp reminder
this residue of
messages.it's twenty degrees outside, and when he breathes into the air, the smoke spells sex.messages.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
but not the loving kind, the kind where taking a shower just isn't enough to get the smell of him off of me.
he's all wrapped up into disney movie, magic shit. when i know that he is just some dirty subliminal message, and i'll get sucked in.(but i'll tell myself it's not my fault, because my sub-conscious should be more aware, and i'll pinch myself to make sure i'm sleeping.)
i know that's not right. (anything to keep me asleep)
if and when he holds my hand he squeezes 3 times, and that means "i love you." and i am aware that i should squeeze back 3 times because that is just courteous to do. but for some reason i squeeze once, and that just means, "okay."
(there is this part of me that wishes my subconscious could catch
Pawn of Wizards - Chapter 1Prologue Pawn of Wizards - Chapter 16 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Archwizard Lerrin Tocsell looked up from the work spread across his desk at the sound of the soft knocking. There, standing in the doorway was the portly shape of Stefan Ostwick, nervously ringing his hat in his hands as he looked into the tidy office. As the Arcane Brotherhoods Chief of Messengers, Stefan was responsible for the safe delivery of its goods, both magical and mundane, between its many buildings and outposts. Lerrin placed his quill in an inkpot with one gnarled and shaking hand, and affected his warmest smile.
Please, do take a seat, Master Ostwick, The Archwizard rose partially from his own seat as he spoke, his back protesting slightly as he gestured to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. And many thanks for taking the time from your busy day to cater to an old mans needs.
It is no bother, Archwizard. The jowly man went wide-eyed as he spo
william.dreams make him vomit.william.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
he has spider-leg fingers and eyes so cold they could stop your heart.
(and they will.)
every night william goes to sleep knowing that someone else is waking up with his only friend, and he wishes he could brush the honey-stained hair from her cheek.
(not the man, who can't even spell love without cheating.)
william dreams at night.
his spider fingers are creeping up the jagged edge of her spine. her skin is the color of milk, and lightly freckled. william keeps her safe, and has made a tiny door, where he keeps her in his heart.
(he wakes up next to an empty pillow, with an empty feeling)
william writes a book in his nightmares.
she is in every chapter. her legs stretch across every page, and taunt him with sex, and things that spiders are not allowed to touch. she holds
DepressionRed water, white medsDepression7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Lick, taste the imperfection
Clean trash is still trash
mertha.i like to seperate my thoughts into names, to keep them in order.mertha.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my lonliness is named mertha, and she'd like to meet you.
mertha sits by me on my bed and we draw pictures of tulips and snails and wonder when that math test was. she takes my hand and grips it slowly, while singing that song my mother use to sing when i was 4.
(and i wonder exactly how she knew the words.)
mertha walks with me in the rain and understands that i don't like to be asked questions in the morning. sometimes when i'm sitting in the bathtub with no running water she won't leave me alone, and mertha knows that she is unwelcome.
(but she stays because she knows i'll come back to her)
she hangs over my head when i'm getting dressed in the morning. mertha pulls on my flabby skin and reminds me t
watching you spin.you're a disco dancing, drama queen with dirty hair and the permanent smell of stale cigarettes. but god, are you beautiful, twisting and dancing under circular lights,watching you spin.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
and vomiting when you're done.(acid does some crazy shit)
your hair was once blonde and beautiful like your eyes, but now it's laying in clumps almost everywhere, because you fucking pull out a strand whenever i'm around, i don't know why i do that to you.
but i never really ever offer to leave, either.
there's that one song that i always hear you listening to, it's the same old shit about love and loss and never being able to forget that special someone, i use to get mad at you for giving in to such conforming types of art.
but now i just let you go, because last time i actually made you cry.
"would you rather fly, or read minds?" i told you i'd rather read minds, and know what everyone thinks, because you can fly on a plane anyday, but no one ever thinks the same.
charlotte.it was halloween and charlotte was dressed as an obnoxious pumpkin, because her mother tries to make her a normal child.charlotte.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(and charlotte will whisper that normal children smash pumpkins, not wear them.)
when charlotte was seven she decided that she would swim far out into old pine lake, and hold her breath until the colors in her eyes turned purple, like the bruises that slid down her thighs and touched apon her fragile feet.
(and it was then that charlotte realized, that no one would be around to save her, and that just wasn't the point.)
charlotte decides to be called "char" because it sounds like something silent, and distant. when you say a word so many times in a row it just doesn't sound the same anymore.
(because charlotte wasn't the same,anymore.
charlotte's first b
Life's Like An Hourglass......glued to the table.Life's Like An Hourglass...3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He was tired. He was always tired these days; between the chemo, the meds, the fucking fighting for his life, he was exhausted.
And it never seemed to end.
Life was hard, getting the best of him these days. Most of it was spent alone in a quiet apartment he shared with no one. Most of the things that had been important to him had stepped back - not gone entirely, but just far enough away that their faces seemed blurred, unrecognizable.
Looking back on it, it made sense and the more he'd learned over the years, he understood why it had happened this way.
He would never have imagined him thinking it then, in his youth, but women dealt with shit in a way totally different than men. They tended to stiffen their upper lip and face life head on, for better and for worse.
He remember all too well, her leaning against the bright red monstrosity that was her car outside of the hospital: him out of his first bout of chemo and feelin
lightening bolt eyes.he has lightening bolt eyes and one fucking killer smile.lightening bolt eyes.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
let me introduce you to whom i call "fire-fly."
he has ice white skin and something about the way his hair falls that makes me wish mine would conform to such a beauty.
looking at you for so long makes me feel. Really feel.
he calls them fire-flies but i say lightening bugs.
fire burns hot against his skin, and i can feel the heat in his heart
but lightening bolt eyes can destroy you.
but god, it's so beautiful first, but only at first.
he calls me his "freckled girl" and i call him my heart
and he says that i shine underneath the sun
like it was made for me, and only me
but he has telescope eyes, and those can see to the stars.
he has razor blade hip bones and they stab into me while i dream
lightening bolt eyes and freckles like stars
and in my bed at midnight is the perfect galaxy
and for a second we make one constellation
Music Is...What is music?Music Is...7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A little boy asked me that today.
I bent down so that our faces were level
And then I said to him with a smile,
Why do you care?
Out of so many people today
Why do you care?
He looked back at me
His eyes too thoughtful for his age
And he said right back to me,
Because I want to make good music.
I liked that answer, and I told him so.
He was happy and he smiled.
Take my hand, I said, and walk with me now
And I will show you those things that proper music make.
He put his small hand into mine and came with me.
I didnt know what to make of this, he trusted me.
But I led him along, and as I did I pointed out
Some of those things that proper music make.
Music, I said, is the harmony in the world
Brought together to create a myriad of sensations.
Music is our footsteps on the ground
Music is my walking with you.
Music is that ancient couple over there
See how elderly they are, yet they see each
DiwaliDiwali3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
festival of light
a time for peace, hope and joy