Lie To MeFingertips lace around my ribs
And pull at my skin
As my breath catches
At the coolness of your touch.
Calm these trembling hands
And hold them tight in yours.
I'll move my lips on yours
Just so you don't have to.
Hearts beat faster and
My breath shudders with insecurity.
Press my body close to yours
So I don't shatter into fragments.
Lie to me one more time.
Tangle your legs in mine,
Brush your lips along my neck.
Make me feel alive.
Only the Beginning Part 1The cool fall air breezed through the streets of New York as its citizens went about their business. Tommy, of course, took the time to enjoy some fresh air and avoid fighting the rouge villains that threatened whatever was left of New York’s calmness. New York on the other hand was already entranced in the debate of its newest mystery: Black Thunder. A great many of people would say that he was a normal hero set on keeping the streets safe, others would say that he was a menace putting the law into his own hands. Tommy knew that his alter ego was a force meant only for good and never really cared how New York saw him. However, part of him still wished that the police wouldn’t target him on sight.Only the Beginning Part 11 year ago in Scraps More Like This
There was only one thing that actually confused Tommy about his strange powers: why? He didn’t know exactly why he received these powers. He was only a normal boy that went about his business without a single care in the world. Why was it that this privilege was given to him
The Journal of Brother OthgowAs I plunge through such a torrent of apocalyptic dreams I see him. He drifts among sick phantasms so rich in colour and death, weaving through cosmic winds of tortured materialization, down impossible canals of maddened corporeality and dripping cognizance. At times he is but a shapeless and nebulous awareness of twisting imaginings splitting and gnawing at all will and perceptible uniformity. At other times he grows and arises impossibly into a singular form of horrible and abysmal perfection, a colossal steeple of crimson flesh and of fury and of all things screeching in their articulacy, fringed with snaking horns of black onyx and robed with tentacular limbs of dreadful and infinite perversion. What I hate in him is the embodiment and the joining and the swelling of what I hate in all men, madness and awareness of such madness enduring evermore in unspeakable revelry. In his tainted tome his dreaded commandment is stowed, a book from which it is said all chronicles and secrets arThe Journal of Brother Othgow1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
prison barsin a place where Sanity is a Minorityprison bars1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
Cruelty Conformity and Morality parallels Futility
where Innocence erodes
and Hope eludes our grasp;
to you i hold fast.
what I wrote instead of an essay I vaguely remember dreaming last night about being in a brightly but sadly lit gas station in the middle of the night, and the world felt so big and I was naked in the face of it- nothing to lose, a whole night of things to experience. There was something so stark and lonely about that bright gas station light, a kind of uncomfortable blankness. But that's what I crave, isn't it? I crave that unpleasant yet indescribably desirable feeling of the shedding of security blankets; the security of my house, of everyone I know, of my routine and my ideas about what my life is going to be- everything I've been wrapped up in all these years that now stifles me. But it was only a dream, and it brings me no joy now that the memory is warped with my disappointed hyper-awareness of the fact that it wasn't real. Left over from that dream is only a sense of longing; the fingerprints of a lover, gracing a windowpane after the night is over and I sigh, looking out the window at thewhat I wrote instead of an essay1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
Nuada - IntroductionTrapped, and nobody looking for you, can you imagine? Being alive but not really living. It's one thing to be trapped in your own body, with your own mind to deal with and yet another to be trapped in someone else's body. That, unfortunately, is my problem. My name is Nuada; I'm a male shadow dragon trapped behind a human female's eyes. I call her Nuala, she's pretty smart, completely beautiful, but her stress and her mindset get to her way too easily. Either way, I'm stuck here with her and I have minimal control of anything. Here's the thing too, nobody is looking for me and nobody even cares that I'm missing.Nuada - Introduction1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
Nuala is lucky, she doesn't realize that she's trapped. She senses it, but honestly, she can't really say that she is, and there's no way for me to communicate it to her. When I was trapped inside of her, they (my captors) trapped my memories away from me. Sometimes the memories come back to me in unexpected flashes that are very unspecific, so many times they don't quite make
RedemptionThe frost clung to the window of my hospital room. The late afternoon, nighttime sky was dotted with tiny white specks we as children came to know as the stars. Rainbow lights peeked over the edge and set any darkened reaches of the room a glow in a cheerful embrace. I was looking out the window, to the Detroit River that lie motionless beneath its thin blanket of ice; beautiful.Redemption1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
I sat there, feeling content with God and with life as I clung to the last moments of it on this Christmas night. I closed my eyes and began to pray, near pleading for acceptance. “sorry.” I whisper “I’m sorry.”
A knock breaks the silence of my prayer.
“Hey Marsi.” my brother Raymond comes in, biggest grin I think I’ve ever seen stretched across his meaty face. His three sons came trotting behind him and my two babies after them.
“Auntie Marsi!” my nephews, Derrick of eighteen, Brian of fifteen and Alex the youngest, being only twelve; all shout in un
Empty ThreatsThere was a knock at the door, and nobody bothered to answer. The knocking grew more persistent; no doubt an angry fist was behind the simple slab of wood. The silver doorknob twisted in place, chinking back and forth, held back by the lock. Impatience was slowly blooming on the doorstep.Empty Threats10 months ago in Scraps More Like This
Upstairs, Susanne Foster was oblivious to the pounding, the rattling doorknob. The bathtub was filling up with water. She stood at the bathroom mirror, calm as a gentle tide. Headphones were jammed into her ears, their wires trailing down to a scratched-up iPod resting on the sink.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl...
She was beautiful, she had always been beautiful. It was her best asset, a perfect trap to catch her prey. Her face was fresh, clean. Long strands of matte black hair framed her pale skin. Her eyes were hazel, clear with intelligence; her lips were the rosy pink of peonies. Everything about her was springtime, her warm wind of a breath, her skin soft as daisy petal
her ocean eyesher ocean eyesher ocean eyes1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
I once knew a girl with ocean in her eyes.
There wasn't anything particularly special about herat first glance.
It was those eyes and the stark beauty beheld in them that captured me the most.
She disappeared beneath the rising and falling ocean waves.
I felt like a bird caught in a draft of air rather than a girl who pushed and pulled by the ocean and gave up.
In; out. In; out. In
The Ocean is a thief, stealing shoreline's treasures.
I felt as if a pin was being held to my heart.
The timeworn journal is so old and tattered; the lined pages yellowed with age. The cover was threadbare; and could hardly retain its place on the spiral bound. Obviously, she had this journal endure through much in the past years.
"So?" She furrows her brows, giving me a look of mock anger.
"Can you at least give me a valid reason to why I can't read what's in there?"
At once, she snaps it shut. "You don't see me asking why I can't I see your photos, do you?" she count
Where Is the Light?Where is the light?Where Is the Light?2 years ago in Scraps More Like This
I can hardly see
I've given up the fight,
I'm entrenched in despairity.
Where is your hand?
Is there anyone there!?
It's so dark in here...
Did everyone disband?
Where did you go?
Can anyone hear me!?
I'm so cold and alone,
It's like being on death row.
I've tried calling your name,
But all I hear is screaming.
Our time seems to be running out
And the tears won't stop streaming...
Where is the light?
I can hardly see
I've given up the fight,
And all that remains is me...
SeriouslyWhy can't you seeSeriously1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
What I see in front of me
You have a mirror
Look and see whats clear
Everything I love about you
Is written on your face as proof
Don't you understand
That you don't have to be grand
For me to love you and proclaim it
You don't have to go through all this shit
Because you are beautiful right now
Even with your face in a frown?
You don't have to conform
You don't have to fit into the 'norm'
So don't dirty the pages of your life
With societies magnetic strife
Put down that knife and blade
Extinguish the fire of pain
Your life is not the price to be paid
Your life is wiped of stains
Hell is a SanctuaryAtop the mountain, we can see the whole planet ablaze. Burning flesh and runaway sparks scar our windblown faces as the heat of what's below drifts up to our hell bound sanctuary. We watch strangers die from the safety of our perch, as the burning flag behind us quivers in the heat of the furnace. Red and white and blue all run together to form a smoky orange color, so vivid our eyes water and the tears stream down our faces, into the blaze they cannot extinguish. We have stumbled into a godless earth, a world where the saints burn and the sinners live, watching in horror as reality melts away like candle wax.Hell is a Sanctuary1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
And the lighter is in your hands.
That's What Cain WantedThe Earl of Hargreaves,That's What Cain Wanted4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Poison in eye,
His twisted love,
bring tears to the
people closest to him.
Woman after woman, death after death,
poison and poison,
His sister, so pure, so innocent, so beautiful,
sucked into criminal world,
no matter how hard he tries
to pull her away. She shall never dirty her fingers, a tea party,
that's what he wanted. He'd never try to hurt her.
His love entraps her in a cage,
would never want to let her go.
Aloof, stupid, what could he say?
Just keep Mary Weather safe. That's what he wanted.
Ghosts, Ghouls, offered to be in Delilah.
Turned it down. Money or for justice? Is that why he worked for him?
A medium, carried out his boss's promise; that's what he wanted. Found the corspe smiling,
so holy, unreal. Walks the path
of which he used to do.
Some Romeo and Juilet.
Never did she find it, never did he
10,429 days UNOFFICIALP R O L O U G U E10,429 days UNOFFICIAL1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
Everything is shrinking, and you have every idea why.
Fall is quickly approaching. Leaves are dropping onto the ground, turning the concrete back into earthly hues of brown and red. sloshing leaves around your feet, you open the front gates of your home, to find that it's 0.34 inches shorter than it should be. Your petite waist bumps against the rusted lock purposely- it's the first time you've been able to do that. Satisfied, you half-waltz into the door, or rather stumbling along with your bags of equipment. At least there was nothing in the driveway you could bump into.
Inside, there is no stereo sound. Not a whiff of your mother's bean soup, not a rattatattap of your father's typewriter. There's only the sound of wind drifting through the open kitchen window, but even the force of nature was half-heartedly blowing around the hot air.
Entering your living room you discover a lot of new things-
1. There are actual wads of cash on the counter.
2. You find out why you