Maps Not Meant For FollowingI bet you missed me when I went away. "You’ll come back," you thought. When I didn’t you bit your lip, but was sure I would make it with time. After the next day, and the day after that, the doubts started to creep in. You caught yourself sucking in a painful breath whenever you saw something of mine lying around. Bits of my life left with you would slither into your sight when you least expected it the same way the memories would swamp you if given the slightest chance.Maps Not Meant For Following7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When days turned into a week, you entered into a hush drunk state: eyes bleary and sore from holding back any semblance of emotion. You were quiet, but not calm. Your hands became tumultuous storms when you'd glance over at our picture, fingers becoming tidal waves as you would toss it onto the bed. You were tired, but not nearly tired enough to forget.
On its own, you would find your body shaking at the brush of your own fingers across your skin, a reminder of where I touched you last. And then you c
.I beat my head into the glass shop windows – as if that would knock you out of me – clutching at my heart to assure this aching chest that I still live. Perhaps, in a way, it was the motivation I needed to keep punching pulses into my wrist. (I ache more acutely than any time before, or for any person before.).1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
I know this is a cheesy love-thing (one I thought I’d never write, and therefore can’t find it in me to name), but I can’t help but fill you into every single word and page - and therefore need to ink you out. I need to breathe you, need to tell you… tell you that sometimes, just sometimes, I can’t help but hate you – and love you – for ripping me open to bleed him out; and I’ve tried to grip at the scars that see him differently. But he will never be you, and I’m starting to doubt that I’ll ever feel whole, while I marvel over not why I still breathe, but how, when sometimes all
Solar East - Chapter OneLast night, I witnessed the death of an ancient smokestack. It coughed its lungs into submission and fell without dignity, tumbling through the graying air, and crushing itself to the earth, much like many of the ill-fated citizens in North Alincourte had twenty-three years ago. The city is a grandiose place, even with the presence of crumbling cathedrals and lonely abbots. The whole area is a site of festive attraction; thousands of Better Alincourte's citizens mill around, snapping pictures, buying souvenirs, and generally running amok through a decomposing city.Solar East - Chapter One7 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It's not that I resent the tourists. I just dislike how freely they allow themselves to wander around one of the few places where history was preserved, a city in which industrial technology merged with flourishing stone and tile.
Let me introduce you to my home.
I live in a reclusive fortress which has seen far better days than now. Vines creep up stone, seemingly pulling a man made structure back into nature. Pebbles slip
just say so.I learned the other day what people mean when they say that you don't stop hurting, don't stop feeling the sting of grief, you just learn to deal with it. You adjust to it and it becomes normal after a while.just say so.1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
It still kicks me in the chest and I have to catch my breath. I heard your song in the supermarket Tuesday afternoon and I dropped the bread. I didn't even notice until someone started humming it and I asked myself to please not cry in the middle of the bakery aisle and at least wait until I was outside. I made it to the car. And I broke and it was hard to remember that had forgotten for so long.
But I wished it had stayed forgotten.
cause I miss you again and now I'm back where I started and feeling more defeated than ever.
Socially Acceptable LyingHi there.Socially Acceptable Lying10 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You don’t know me. That’s okay, I don’t really either, I’ve come to accept that along with everyone who knows me. It’s especially weird when someone meets me for the first time and I’m wearing a sweater vest and poring over that math textbook and then the next day they see me and I’m in that short ruffled black skirt with the pink fishnet gloves. I'm the queen of whiplash and indecision.
I’m here to audition. Again. Well, again, I say—it’s not really again, not for you, because I’ve never auditioned with you before. I’ve auditioned with other people. Thirteen of them.
The first twelve were voice-acting casters and I almost got a role in two of them but then they were canceled at the last minute because they lost their animator. Actually, the second one just plain got rid of the character, but the first reason is the one I tell people.
The last one was a director, a real live director, and I st
UnattainableWe've all liked that one person that makes the poster at the foot of the bed look like Gollum's really ugly cousin. You know, the one that's always moving in slow motion...or tossing their hair like a horse and managing to look like a Grecian Deity. The one that's so popular it's almost sickening, or so mysterious it's scary. The one that makes you gibber like an idiot when in close proximity, and blush like you just ran a marathon.Unattainable6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Maybe I'm the only one that can attest to colliding with walls or breaking personal items in order to 'catch a glimpse.' Oh, and then-of course-the 'mysterious note' we send via our best bud with the orders of 'don't tell'. But-of course-he does because Xander is a blabbermouth; but you should have known better in the first place. Uh, but 'The One' kind of already knew you liked them but didn't want to hurt you feelings. Or so Xander says, despite the phone number in achingly familiar handwriting scrawled across his right hand.
So now "ooh" tu
symphony iv: requiem of a dream.I.symphony iv: requiem of a dream.7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For a long while I stumbled through the darkness, groping out along the corridor. Through the gaps in the blindfold I could see the stars up above, twinkling uncertainly; distorted by the narrow vein between the fabric and my forehead.
No one had tended to the house for many years. It had become a tradition to visit and camp out in the reading room, where the most sky was visible. For in every book was at least one sky, and there must have been nearly a thousand books stacked neatly on the shelves there.
My palm raced along the rough, splintered surface of the wooden wall panels, reading the uneven pattern of the half-eroded varnish. Somewhere beyond the dark, she was waiting, and I knew this with certainty. She’d be waiting, standing perfect and luminous and shining so brightly that I’d surely see her like a lightning storm of beauty and brilliance even through the blindfold. Or maybe she’d run from me, just as I ran to her. She’d trail her fingertips around
My worst mistakeI was never lucky when it comes to love. Women, for some reason, were never very fond of me maybe because I am, c'mon, a bit of a geek. In the middle of all that there was an experience the left a deep mark on me. It was during my first year of high school when I deeply fell in love with a girl. When I realized that, I came up with a little scheme for her to know it. But she was already taken and, of course, I got rejected. But still, a certain friendship began to develop between the two of us and I tried to enjoy it. But I wasn't satisfied. I wanted more. I wanted something deeper, something more serious. So I started to taunt her, making moves on her, making stupid comments. As I should have expected, the friendship turned into hate. She even attacked me a few times.My worst mistake11 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
In the next school year, we got separated from each other and we lost touch. It was already too late when I realized my mistake and I've never corrected it. I stopped to believe in love, I get disgusted when I hear
Love-hate relationshipLove and hateLove-hate relationship5 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Different but equal
His MistakeHe bought flowers for our date, but left them at his girlfriend’s.His Mistake5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Little FuryThe storm throws you to my door, drenched and bloodied, god-light dimmed. The crest of the hill is underwater. You have no boots.Little Fury1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
Morning dawns cold, clear, a watery gold. You are gone.
pine cone heart. it is 9:36 on a Tuesday night. i don't know if it's still snowing, but i do know it's cold and my palms are covered in a thin layer of sweat. slowly, it eats away at my epidermis like a parasite. soon i will be nothing more than skeletal muscle and a decaying pericardium. i think this is beginning to happen already, this disintegration. it began five minutes and thirty seven seconds ago when i realized two things:pine cone heart.6 months ago in Emotional More Like This
you will never love me.
i will love you all the same.
our timelines were never meant to connect, not really. there was just that second-long contact, a chance, a lifetime in my eyes. i keep replaying that moment again and again. i don't remember what you were wearing, how your hair looked, the way your smile looked. no; all i can recall is how your skin felt on your forearm, the sound of a marker against flesh.
i realize that that is all we will be: a fleeting smile. a promise to keep in
Fences I can feel the world spinning. Or if it's not the world, then just life. That's what it feels like as I lay on my back in the grassy shade under the oak tree.Fences1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember the first time I mentioned it to you, but you just shook your head and told me that I'm dramatic and think too much, which is funny because you're the smart one. Or you were. Before we drifted apart, no longer inhabiting the same circle of existence. Before we had less in common than most human beings and began to speak languages so foreign to one another that communication became impossible. I still think about the way it once seemed that we were two peas in a pod (as my Mom would say): you with your amazing thought power, me and my ridiculous imagination. Somehow we complimented one another but now the only thing left of that time is memories.
I'm thinking...you probably saw me duck when you stepped off your back porch and the truth is I just couldn't face you becau
Mah-Jong Sometimes my father would get temporary jobs decorating old lady’s houses within the area of our small harbour side town. He would come home speckled and cheerfully display his work jeans to me; “the sign of a hard day’s work”. He felt proud of the various shades of magnolia that repurposed what once was blue. At times like this, when I got home from school the house would be empty. At first I was delighted to have space for myself, I played Spice Girls loudly on my white cassette player or watched Pokémon on T.V. Eventually the novelty wore off, and when I’d come home to find Dad gone for work I would go truffling, snout in my parents papers to find secrets.Mah-Jong1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When I was ten I discovered the Mah-jong set. It lay in a small black briefcase-like box, unremarkable but it resembled other boxes in which I’d been able to paw through my mother’s old broken necklaces and pinless broaches so naturally I opened
Jellyfish.I remember running my finger acrossJellyfish.1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
that scar on your torso, asking you what
had happened. You told me that when you
were younger you went to the ocean, and
while you were swimming out to sea you
were stung by a jellyfish. Sometimes I
find myself wishing I was that beautiful
brainless creature that left that mark on
you. I could live on forever in that scar.
I could be, everlasting.
Civil TwilightI keep daylight steady, because one day this blood won't flow so eagerly. I nurse the fragile sun in my dust-veined hands, and you smile at the others talking around us. We've yet to show them how little we truly care. I'm slowly finding the roots to be strong.Civil Twilight6 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I finally let the daylight pour away, lost among the foreboding trees. You brush fingers through your wind-shocked coiffure and galaxies tumble, shrieking in a discordant orchestra. A few notes cling on chivalrously, and I swipe them to the whispering ground. My feet collide with nebulae in my wake, but I crush them. There's no stardust; only a powder of dimly glistening aurorae.
The roses bloom angrily in shades of violet and moonlight. We are dysfunctional, but you are my valentine tonight.
Spring Has Held Life in Her HandsSunlight is pouring past her lips as she cradles newborn fawns. Vines twist and spiral into a calligraphy of green memories; she bats her eyes causing petals to glide on softened breezes. As she hangs leaflets on branches and tucks in tree roots with blankets of moss she smiles. Mountains cry, with snow trickling down their peaks. She places circlets of white flowers at their feet; her hands brush the sliding snow away.Spring Has Held Life in Her Hands5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She builds a castle of iris and lilies over the world with purples, pinks, and reds dotting the horizon. The people look up and shudder as a sudden peace engulfs them. Spring digs moats of morning dew beneath drawbridges of grass. Placing a tiara of clovers against the sides of dead trees, grass spurting forth from their wounds she sings. Birds flit between the branches of her hair, chirping a song of return into her ear.
The clouds stretch awake at the sound of Spring, chuckling hello with a wave of white. Forests clamor for her touch and she obliges, unfu
If I Should ForgetDaisy still teases me about the three years of my life where I believed I was a shape-shifter. She'll smile and recount how I would sulk in a corner and shake, pretending to shed my skin, allowing me to transform myself into someone entirely new. She'll casually bring it up over our morning coffee, her laughter running along the pier as we walk. Some days I wish she would let it rest, but her memories of me are too precious to truly be annoyed with.If I Should Forget8 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"You would make the cutest faces," she would say, after taking a sip of her coffee, following up with my favorite part, "I used to try to mimic your faces in the mirror at home, but they were never the same."
This is when I would touch her arm and try my best to make some sort of face, in an attempt to recreate the memory. I always imagine the giggles that escape her are the ones we had shared during our childhood. "Close enough," she would whisper, a sadness would glaze over her voice and she would shake her head.
When the silence would we
West of the SunShe quietly touched the reverberating cymbals and sparrows descended on the drums.West of the Sun6 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Memories lay hidden inside pressed sleeves, the chilly wind brought the scent of snow.
Their dreams were pale blue against the deep greys, secrets sealed inside envelopes.
They climbed up the hill to watch the valley where the earth and sky come together.
He placed his hand on her hair, to calm down its restless flow from the past to the present.
But no matter how many snowflakes were caught in her eyelashes, all he could remember was her warmth.
She was to him a white rabbit running through the brightly lit office, a reflection of twin souls on a blue window.
With his eyes closed, he learned to predict the rain with his sixth sense.
They walked quietly while the seagulls were rushing through the breaking clouds, their white wings like sails.
The glittering blades of grass were heavy from the dew and a big oak stood in the heart of the rippling meadow.
Looking at each other by the ocean, their tear
Dear SocietyDear Society,Dear Society1 year ago in Letters More Like This
If I may be so kind, I will lead this letter by addressing your whole state of being.
Frankly, you are a hypocrite. I do not think you, in your current state, deserve to exist on this planet.
In other words? Fuck you.
This is for me. No...This is for all the boys and girls who don't feel as if they are worthy enough of love, or acceptance, or living. This is for all the boys and girls who feel as though they are nothing. This is for all the boys and girls who return home from school every day, just to sob into their pillow, for maybe being ugly, or stupid, or gay. This is for all the boys and girls around the world, who live in horror, but never get airplay of their events.
This is for us all.
In every one of my years, I have never been so upset.
You see, Society, you like to tell us that we are all beautiful, gorgeous, handsome beings! You tell us that we're smart and intelligent. You say the color of our skin does not matter. You put us in the mindset that if we work ha
eyelash. “Let's go to McDonald's. ”eyelash.7 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The car was a cloud. I don't mean that it was full of rain. It's a metaphor. Like, the car was so thick with smoke that you could stick your hand in it and feel clouds. The atmosphere. I would want to stick my hand in that. I mean, it's like the skin of humanity. I could be, like, touching humanity. Cool, right? I would do that.
Anyway, we were parked in the back of our the town's grocery store. I don't remember if we went in. We might've. But that cute boy from our school was at work there. Black hair. Oh, God, I'll always remember him. People say he's stupid, dim, even, but when you hear him talk, it's like he's a Greaser and I'm some dangerous prissy girl from the good side of town, and we're in some romance movie. But no, he's hot. Yeah. We still haven't gone, even though Jake said that like an hour ago.
Now, Jake is a guy. I mean he's a boy, yeah, but he's also a guy. Like,
Puzzles W1, D1I bought my sister a tangle of metallic rings in Leonardo Da Vinci’s castle because I wanted to prove her wrong. She had always underestimated me, saw me as a self-obsessed aspiring artist who is so wrapped up in her own ambitions that she can’t see the hurt around her. True, I don’t see the milk in the fridge when it’s in front of my eyes, and I forget my parents’ birthdays, but I do notice things.Puzzles W1, D17 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I notice my sister.
I notice when she stands in the middle of the room with a blank look in her eyes, or when she curls up on the couch for too many hours. I notice when she spends days locked in the bathroom playing games and solving puzzles on her phone in the bathtub.
I notice that she finishes them all, and that once she’s beaten the game, she starts over. And that’s how she looks at life: as a series of puzzles that must be solved, as a series of high scores to beat.
I’m one of her puzzles that she thinks she’s figured out. She look
Burnt OfferingsCloaked in a veil of night, I take a turn on the road of stars and diamond dust. The lights are obscured and smokescreened from my eyes, relinquishing their dazzling glow for a dull luster. I feel as though I have the power of a god, that even the celestial bodies could bend to my will. Of course, the galaxies just laugh at me.Burnt Offerings7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Pollution from the world below industrializes into a toxic smog, choking the nebulae and ribbon streets, streaking through the cities of space. It is gritty. Diamond dipped stars have their shells eaten away by the smoke, their pores congested with the dizzying fumes. And they slip off of their regal, cosmic hold to plummet into the ugly cataclysm below. Even the supernovas can be crushed.
More and more cosmos join their filthy friends in a meteor shower of comets. One lone star remains, struggling to shine, only to produce contaminated coughs of dust. I grasp it in my gloved palm, this one final offering the universe has to give me. Perhaps I could nurture it t
Just a wishI want to make something beautiful.Just a wish1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
Something that people can look at and become speechless
Something people will notice and share with others
Share this beautiful work that they have found
Because it's so beautiful
Why wouldn't they share it?
Maybe if I made something beautiful like that
I could feel beautiful
I could feel noticed
Instead of in a corner
Silently begging people to like what I've created
To hope they will find what I show them beautiful
Just like Ive always wished
I'm invisible to others
Im not attractive
I'm not special to anyone
I could find a way to stop being average
Find a way to be beautiful
Not with what I look like
Or act like
But with what I can create
What I can imagine
What I can put in words or art
I can be beautiful
I can make something truly beautiful
It's all but a dream though
Nothing will ever change
Ill never be beautiful
Never feel beautiful
Never create anything beautiful
Like Ive always dreamed