Rainbow SpraypaintClose my eyes and then I'm flying
If I were younger I'd say I'm dying
But somehow wishing death on my mind
Is a solution I can no longer find
When my eyes fly open, I see everything
My world is empty yet somehow moving
Fire burns me down, storms wake me up
The hurricanes toss me, push me up
Floods are the only way I can breathe
Safe underwater, where lies can be seen
But just as I'm happy I feel it calling
The endless guilt, always haunting
I'm dragged through destruction back to the city
I promised I'd fight but it's hauntingly pretty
All I feel I'm entitled to do
Stop you from hiding from the truth.
Something's not right, the walls are melting
The shadows, growing
The sky is burning
Rainbow spraypaint, I'll leave you a warning
It won't help much, but everything's ending
For the first time I realise how much you're hurting
That's when I know that my best isn't working
Close my eyes and say I'm flying
If I were younger I'd tell you I'm dying
I'll never let myself become so weak
Heart Made from Hands.Bodies pressed together, anticipation peaksHeart Made from Hands.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Devoid of all the chaos that anxiety wreaks
Very little space but fear has drained away
Everybody's waiting for the guitars to start to play.
They're there before they even appear
Presences felt as time grows near
Hands are raised high, the scream begins to swell
A single moment falls and they're captured by their spell
A girl in front makes a heart
With two hands, once broken apart
Bound together by the songs
The only thing that forced her to live this long
The lights are too bright for the band to see
The crowd, but in her head she dreams
That the one on the left sees her hands
And he remembers
And her remembers her.
The singer pauses and feels the crowd
He smiles and hears the screams, so loud
He gave them purpose, he gave them life
He gave them reason, strength to fight
He gave them something to keep in their hearts
He gave them a wish to make on a star
He gave them the will to stay alive
He gave them the legacy that never dies.
A girl in
We all need a hero.When my brother was a young kid, he loved superheroes. Seriously, he had DVDs of Batman, Spiderman, you name it and it was his. I'm pretty sure they were his favourite thing of all time. And it's easy to see why - kids love to be inspired by these things, to become something that they're not and impress everybody. But as I grew older, I started realising that there is more to why superheroes are so loved than what a child's perception is.We all need a hero.3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Every superhero is an outcast, even if it's not directly obvious. They stick out like a sore thumb, and nobody wants to be friends with them. This is an obvious trait in Steve Rogers, aka Captain America. He is small and scrawny unlike the rest of the men around him who are joining the army, and is desperate to belong. Take Peter Parker, aka Spiderman. He's the nerd. Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. The genius billionaire who thinks on a wavelength above normal humans. Even before they become superheroes, they're different. But when they find their alt
Steve RogersSteve Rogers is just one of those guys who doesn't fit in - like all other superheroes before their lives are turned around. He was short, weak, his hair looked greasy and clung to his head like a bad dream. He was all skin and bone with no muscle mass. Naturally none of the girls wanted to date him. We can tell that he was clearly rejected many times when he was younger - just the very vibe we pick up from him suggests a severe lack of confidence. This is why he's so nervous around Peggy. In the car ride with her, we can see just how terrified he is of the opposite gender. Peggy is treating him differently to all the other girls he has ever talked to. He seems scared that he is going to say something wrong and so says very little.Steve Rogers3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Although Steve might seem "weedy" on the outside, there is no denying that he has a personality far better than all the other better-looking men. He is desperate to do what is right - we see this in the way he anxiously asks, "Is this a test?" every ti
Of Chemistry and DigivicesIf you'd asked me when I was five years old, I would have screamed and jumped at the chance of having a Digimon. Seriously - it was my favourite show ever, apart from perhaps Sonic X. Terriermon, a small and podgy little creature with long, floppy ears and a tiny horn perched in the centre of his forehead, was my first imaginary friend - and he stayed that way for approximately a year and a half. That's a long time for a five year old. It was true that it was unbreakable. But something was wrong.Of Chemistry and Digivices3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
While Terriermon was my imaginary friend, a cold yearning began to settle inside of me. The things I would give for Digimon to be truly real! The adventures myself and my friends could have with them! Life would be so much more exciting - from eating breakfast together in the morning, to playing in the school playground at breaktime, to brushing our teeth in the evening, I knew that life would be wonderful - or so I thought. I spent many days just waiting for Terriermon to be brought to me. Na
The PatternSome thoughts:The Pattern2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What is it
That makes us decide who we
When does a THOUGHT
Become an ACTION
Caught between fractions
Of a broken heart, made new again
Only to be broken
Frozen, lying open
What is it
Was it the thought that-
What is it that makes us DECIDE
We can't LIVE
What is the spark
All we thought we knew about us
All we know is how to fall
Was it the pattern of-
Put a hole in my heart
Hold me while I
It's hard to live this long
When deep inside
It feels so wrong
Much to strong
Was it the thought that started?
Was it the pattern of my beating heart?
Was it the careful balance of what we love?
Was it the way you saw right into me?
When does an ACTION
Become a CONNECTION
Caught between friendship
A broken one at that, meant to be new again
We lie here, aching
So what do we
Was it the careful balance-
Put a bullet in
Tony StarkAnthony "Tony" Stark, son of genius Howard Stark, Iron Man. Whatever you know him as, as long as you have at least the faintest idea of who he is, you will know his basic personality traits. Cocky. Selfish. Uncaring. "Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist," is how Tony Stark depicts himself in Avengers Assemble. This is a reasonable perception of the man to have at a basic level - however, with every character, there is more to him; layers. This is my perception of a superhero - how I perceive and connect with him on a mental and emotional level.Tony Stark3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
As a superhero, we automatically know that Tony Stark is a lonely man. Why wouldn't he be? He is so intelligent that it is impossible for him to be understood by many people - this is why he becomes so changed by the presence of Bruce Banner, aka the Incredible Hulk, when the pair first interact in Avengers Assemble. The way Tony's eyes light up the moment he realises that Bruce actually has an idea of what all his scientific jargon mea
The Broken Child A small child,The Broken Child3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
She sits alone,
Waiting for a place to call home.
Bruises and cuts,
Scrapes and broken bones,
The hatred she hides within her soul,
The tears she cries when no face is shown.
A small child,
She sits alone,
Waiting for someone to love,
To pick her from the ground,
To heal the broken bones and cuts,
To patch up her wounded spirit.
The hatred she hides,
The tears she wants to cry,
Waiting for a place to call home.
Afraid of being hurt,
Of being bruised,
'Please don't break me again.'
She hums to herself,
Singing a lullaby,
A painful tune.
Heal my cuts,
Fix my broken bones,
Help me seal my disoriented soul.
The small child,
She sits alone,
A painful tune,
'Please Don't Break Me Again'
I Will Become a Martyr (Peeta)Nobody can ever understand what it is like to be Reaped until it happens to you. The word in itself is capitalised out of respect, to show the importance of the occasion, the greatness of it. They might as well capitalise Death for all it is worth. There's always that suspicion in the back of your mind that it might be you - that shadowed cluster of terror that comes back to haunt you when you wake in the middle of the night as you pull yourself free of a nightmare; or when you find yourself contemplating the use of your very existance. What's the use of living? I have asked myself so many times. What's the use of even trying to make something of yourself when there's a chance I might be dead before my 18th birthday? The Capitol think we're stupid. They think we believe all our propaganda about how winning can change your life forever for the better. Watching all these old tapes of the previous Hunger Games makes me realise. Winning doesn't help you at all. In fact it makes it worse. II Will Become a Martyr (Peeta)3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This