Brick by boring brickThere’s a song that I don’t skip over.
That I’m not allowed to skip over when it comes up.
It’s not a particularly good song, but it has very fitting lyrics. And if I can hear them without thinking that someone needs to hurt me, then everything is okay.
I know that I’m okay.
The first time that I’d stood on this bridge I got Stairway to Heaven, which is a great song, and which I’d been happy to listen to while I watched the running water and worried about a class and a guy who’d unnerved me. And I’d been hoping I’d get a similar song this time, sitting with my back against the railing and my feet under me to spare my legs the snow and ice.
But this song came up, and I had to let it play.
I don’t have a lot of rules, but I don’t ever, EVER let myself break the ones I do.
To the point of cruelty sometimes.
And this guy is still unnerving me, because it’s not something I’m ever supposed to feel. It’s
BrailleI can't read you by sight,Braille2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't remember which arm
Your birthmark is on,
Or the number of freckles
On your face.
But by night I learned
Your Braille by heart,
A secret language
Hidden by touch.
I don't remember the exact
Hue of your eyes,
But I remember
Your skin under mine.
One Who Masters Magic: PrologueOne Who Masters Magic: Prologue2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A Prophecy Worth Blood
Prophecy is both a gift and a curse. It can gift a man with insight into the future that can benefit all of mankind, but it can also curse him with knowledge that others will kill to obtain or to silence.
Terrand of Malorez, Master Prophet
429, Third Age
The sound of iron shod hooves clattering against cobblestones rang out as three dozen men rode hard toward a drab monastery nestled in a small grove of trees miles down the road. The men ignored the cold winter wind that bit at their cheeks and the looming darkness from the shortened days. They knew the way to their destination well and the simple road guided them even in the dim light. All of these men were dressed in expensive heavy plate armor with mail beneath and carried spears in their hand and a sword on their belt. Each wore the crest of their emperor upon their chest plate. The silver mountain and the four golden stars
StringString can be used for lots of things, but mostly tying things together. Connecting them, making them stronger. But what if string is pulling things in different directions, each direction demanding attention, putting pressure on the system?String2 years ago in Drama More Like This
Sometimes your strings might run alongside another, creating an affinity, improving relations. It's not dragging you sideways and it's not dragging you down, it's not pulling you away from yourself but sometimes, it can lift you up.
Making me stronger is my closest friend, we don't tangle but we braid, we weave, we spiral round each other. We are each a kite bearer for the other, holding a few of the strings, sharing, caring and taking control when we need. We can give the string a bit of a tug and pull the other down to earth, we can reel them in if we need them and let them fly when we don't. But all this pulling and pushing is done in the spirit of sharing, the string will not break it just stretches and shortens depending on what we both need.
Nevermore Chapter OneChapter One- The Clockwork BoyNevermore Chapter One2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Fourteen years later…
The sleepy little suburb of Grindlestead was always so very quiet. Well, when the children weren’t awake that is. It was, lively to say the least, when the young ones would run about, screaming their little heads off in joyous games. Now, there was so another always in Grindlestead: the child that lived in 207 Albeister Drive was a strange. And “strange” was an understatement to most of the neighbors as a word to describe her. Sure, she was well mannered and well behaved but it was some of the things she spoke of that made her “strange” to the neighbors. It was always things about two mysterious folk that spoke, yet she could never hear what they said, well, except for the word “Nevermore.” But she never really understood what that meant.
Another little behavior of hers that made her strange was, that every evening she would take a stroll over to old Grimspire Cemetery. Of course
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.Redemption2 years 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
astrological.i. On some nights,astrological.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
street lights guide
this lonely heart
to her lonely bed.
ii. In this universe of twilight skin
& mismatched bones,
I wonder just how many poems sleep
beneath the inkwell of her eyes.
iii. My body is a house of stars,
and her palms are black holes
sucking ( me ) into their vortex of
iv. She says, "Please—my moon,
please—give these bones a reason
& I am whispering lovelies
into the sanctuary of her heartbeats.
v. "Goddess temple,
sunset eyes, &
my windowpane love-
Let us eat the stars
ChainedEscape these chainsChained2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Beaten, bruised, and bloody
Can't somebody help?
He Never StoppedSomeone once told me that depression was like a dense, dark raincloud that hung over you and you couldn't escape from it as hard as you might try. I don't think I ever really understood because I have spent so many years running and hiding from that cloud. I finally understand now. I also know however that you can't run from this and you can't hide from it. Instead you have to find a way to rise above it, walk on top of the clouds and let the rain fall below your feet.He Never Stopped2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
In a world full of liars, deadbeats, cheaters and beaters it is easy to lose confidence that decent people do exist. Do you know how many times I have pinched myself in all the years I've known you just to make sure I am not dreaming you up? I will whisper the answer in your ear while you have your arms around me.
There isn't much in life that surprises me, but I have said many times to many people how you do. You hold onto your passion and devotion in a way I can't imagine holding onto anything. I have been so
Chapter 1: Flame PointsThe sound of water encircled the area. The subtle echo of the liquid splashing against the river stones, sent an array of euphoria to her ears. The piercing heat of the morning star kissed the skin of her face, as the frigid wind caressed her body.Chapter 1: Flame Points2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A loud crash erupted, the sound of the peaceful water being pushed out of its safe abode.
A piercing tone called out to her, “Butter! Please come in the water with me!”
She instantly recognized the voice belonging to her twin brother Scotch. Her cat ears twitched from the annoyance of her brother disturbing her tranquility. She peered one of her eyes open to see him drenched in the crystal like waters of Euteria. She couldn’t resist as the urge overtook her and the lips upon her face curved into a smile, her unmistakable feline fangs exposing themselves. The saliva dried quickly in the morning air.
“You are so silly brother, you are a walking contradiction.” She said, her smile growing wider.
Her brother tilted
Pokemon Apocalypse: Rivalry “Charmander, go!” Yelling just felt natural. The Pokéball flew from my hand and Charmander burst out.Pokemon Apocalypse: Rivalry1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Squirtle, take care of this punk!” Blue yelled.
The two tiny creatures faced off at the entrance of the professor’s lab. Charmander stood about knee height (to my waist) and Squirtle was just a bit shorter. I felt an instant connection to Charmander, that indescribable bond between trainer and Pokémon.
“Charmander, attack!” I yelled, pointing at Squirtle. The lizard dashed forward and slashed at Squirtle with his claws.
“Tackle him!” I heard Blue yell.
Squirtle lunged at Charmander and knocked him over.
“Get him off! Scratch him!” I yelled. Charmander flailed his claws, landing a
Racism At its FinestThat day my little brother was graduating the 8th grade, the lady kept asking mom about that empty seat that we were reserving for dad. She was very persistent. Mom had saved a seat for a family friend and one for dad. However, the family friend (who also had a child graduating middle school) never showed. So mom thought it reasonable to let the woman have the seat, next to her husband. I was present there along with my 78 year old grandmother that speaks no English. More towards the middle of the event, dad finally arrived. The woman kept complaining to my mom about how she had "reserved" a seat. The maximum number of people there was supposed to be 2 per child, but come on. No one followed that rule. The people seated in front of us had at least 6 people in their party. But they didn't hear any complaints, only my mom did. Then, the lady brought a friend. They talked for a bit, had a laugh. Then either the lady or her friend, I'm not sure who, specifically asked for my mom's last namRacism At its Finest2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Photograph “Mommy! Look! They handed out the yearbooks today!” Lucy yelled joyfully as she ran down the hall of the great mansion, her shouts echoing off the walls and her stockinged feet pitter-pattering on the linoleum floor. It was the last day of school and she was excited for the two-month-long summer break that stretched gloriously ahead of her.Photograph2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mother turned around, leaving her cooking for the moment. “Really? Let me see, dear.” She wiped her hands on her apron, smiling warmly at the sight of her youngest daughter – her light brown hair astray and her bright blue eyes filled with glee – as she bounded into the kitchen. In her arms she carried a thick, hardcover book.
She gently took the yearbook from her daughter's hands and walked into the living room, settling down comfortably in a sofa. Lucy jumped up beside her. Mother flipped through the pages as she and Lucy laughed at funny pictures and talked about her classmates.
The Man Who Never DiedThe Man Who Never Died3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Countless men in history have dreamed of becoming the man that I am today. Sacrificing everything for their own personal gains. The fools. They could never be me. Oh, but how they've tried, some coming closer than others, though not without my permittance. They remain with the hope that they could one day replace me as I string them along like puppets. After all, all men, even I, wish to be challenged. Yes, I must always have them believe in the beauty of possibility, no matter what the truth may be.
Therefore, I believe that I have some duty, some obligation to myself, to keep the hope alive in every man. Each man must feel within his heart that he is the author of his own destiny. But the reality is, the truth is far harder to swallow. And the truth is this, there can only be one. There will always be one. And they will all be crushed, in time.
I am what men call, immortal. Though I am also secretly all powerful, but that is something they needn't know.
I haven't always been this way
dust.I'm chokingdust.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the ink-dipped fingers
of verbs & metaphors
still lodged in this bruised,
paper crane throat;
of your words,
still kissing my ribs.
How can you judge me-
when you don't bother
to read the naked poetry
beneath the temple of my flesh?
How long can butterfly
ankles hold up a
Don't bother whispering
your secrets to nebulae,
not even the dust in my veins
will listen anymore.
A Beast's Wish She had only left the mansion two weeks ago to visit her sick father, but it already felt like ages. Before she left, he gave her his ring, making her promise to return in a week. He remembered her smiling – oh, that smile drove him wild – and saying, “I promise,” before turning, her white horse galloping and disappearing into the mist.A Beast's Wish2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He paced around his garden quietly, missing her more by the minute. The song of the birds was the only thing that stopped everything from falling into an empty silence. His nose was filled with sweet fragrances of lilies, asters, and roses ... Roses – those were her favourite. He would send her a million roses if it meant that she could return to him this instant.
Belle. She was the only girl that he had ever fallen truly in love with. She was beautiful – long auburn hair, warm brown eyes, and a shapely body a man wouldn’t be able to resist. Of course, he had met many other women equally bea
SehnsuchtOctober again;Sehnsucht2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the curtains billow
with broken glass echoes and
Mendelssohn's bride waltzing
to better times
She becomes the rain,
and breaks her own heart as the sound
right through us.
Zombie Mages Bend RealityZombie Mages Bend Reality2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Time is the symmetry-breaking act of the mage's vision. By distinguishing this vision, we quantize time and introduce the concepts of 'change', 'speed' or 'phase'. The context they manifest in we call 'space'.
By now we have enough to observe the Holographic Principle, the corollary of which is that all dimensions curve. Understanding gravity is not that hard:
As a response to the continuous exhale of sight, space/time inhales in the direction of time. If you prefer to think in cause-and-effect chains, think of it this way: mass doesn't cause the gravitational field - the curving of space/time causes that which we quantify as 'mass' and 'matter'.
- Dreamer's Handbook
Emerson rattled the chains that bound him to the operating table. "Increase the dosage! More Serum!"
Dyna observed calmly from behind the bulletproof glass. Too bad surgical research yields no results. Experiments with Serum overdose were cheap in terms of time and equipment, but required cripplingly lar
TriggerBetrayal and derisionTrigger2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Were the bullets in your gun,
And you shot with the skill and precision
Of a seasoned marksman.
But just as I was expiring
on the edge of existence,
You decided that the sea
Would not carry me
Off to a diluted heaven.
You brought me back,
Back in the lonely tower,
Where you fed me lies, coated in sugary syllables,
Pretending they were medicine.
You rubbed salt in to my wounds as you stitched them shut.
I needed rest.
While I slept,
You blocked off paths
that might have led to another's hospitality.
Demons were outside the window.
They watched as I suffered,
Hoping I would die.
But I could not.
You sometimes check my vital signs.
I am held together,
But never whole.
You never could remove that one last bullet,
Can't heal the hole in my heart.