So I Shall Stand Here and Watch...So I Shall Stand Here and Watch...3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
From here I shall stand and look down on the world. I shall watch as the leaders of great nations look for ways to fill the void. I shall watch as they lead their followers down the road that can end only in ruin.
One day they will all realize that the void can only be filled by God. Only God can lead them down the appropriate road.
So I shall stand here, looking on as the world leads itself toward its own destruction. And I will pray for them.
Morning's RegretI wake with the dawn, but then just roll over. I pull my pillow over my head and try to go back to sleep. It's so cold and lonely in this bed all alone, and I don't want to remember what happened last night. I drift in and out of melancholy dreams only to wake a few hours later still feeling groggy. I notice it's still pretty dark outside and look at the clock to be sure it is really still day. Yeah, nine-thirty. I'd stay in bed all day and sleep if I thought it would make me feel better. I know really I'll only feel worse, like you were right all along. I decide I'll lie here a little longer and try to plan out my day some before actually getting up. As I stare at the ceiling making invisible lists, my thoughts drift to a few angry words so fresh I can still hear their echo in my heart. I don't know why I said them, or why I let you go. All I know now is that this bMorning's Regret8 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Love....If love is for the young at heartLove....3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Can you please explain
Why my heart should miss a beat
Each time I hear your name?
And why is it I hunger
For every word you tell?
Each scrap of information
I memorize it well.
I may not be as young as some
But have a heart that's true
I just had to let you know
This heart beats just for you.
Crush - FrerardCrush - Frerard7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It's hard being the new kid.
Gerard picked up his worn out backpack containing only his sketchpad, some pencils and pens, and a few well-read comics. He figured he'd be prepared to eat lunch alone. He would have had lunch with Mikey at least, but unfortunately they didn't get the same lunch period. He'd gotten to his first two classes alright, but he had no idea where his next class was. It was Art. He knew it was somewhere on the second floor, so at least he could just wander around until he saw some art kids. You could always tell which ones they were. Most of them dressed like hippies. Lots of tie dye and long hair. He didn't exactly fit in with them, but he liked that they never seemed to care. Of all the people he'd met in high school, they were the only ones he didn't feel the need to disappear around. They were accepting of him, even if he was the quiet kid th
Non-FictionI live through my pen, through my keyboard. Writing lines down, lives down. Ideas spin through my mind and my fingers struggle to keep up. You are a reoccurring character, I wonder if you always knew that. What I can't tell you with my vocal chords, my fingers will lay down in strokes. Woven words and bits of truth, tell stories I live (if sometimes only in my head).Non-Fiction7 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
Sometimes I wonder how much of my life is purely fiction.
The HusbandI took a nap, and when I woke up, the dog that had been sleeping on my chest had become a husband.The Husband6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I said, “Get off, you’re heavy.”
And while he sheepishly slunk to the floor, I asked him what he thought he was doing, being a husband when all I wanted was a dog. He kissed my foot and said that I needed a husband.
This is something that many have tried to tell me in the past, and I was not up for hearing about it. Not on a Saturday afternoon, when I had to fully wake up from my nap, make some coffee, and putz around for a few hours before meeting Sammie for drinks down at Calico’s, so we could watch all the cowboys wearing their finest, most colorful shirts and tightest jeans. Which last part seemed like something to which a husband might take offense.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not a wife, so you’d better change back now.”
“Could you be a wife for a little bit? Try it out?” His eyes were still brown and far too reminiscent of a
All Up and Down the CoastAll Up and Down the CoastAll Up and Down the Coast11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The weather ballons have shut down
out of boredom. The sky is the exact opposite
of an exploded circus. I'm feeling let down,
thinking I would miss you more.
Puddles are even leaving town
in search of something more famous to reflect.
I could go for a walk through the streets
you've left behind but I know they will someday
open up, swallow everyone who trusted them.
I think I will stay inside instead
and rummage through empty wine bottles,
hoping to disturb some hungover genie
and ask him if he's ever had any wishes of his own,
maybe a pleasant sunny day to himself
on top of a water tower,
some grapes and cheese to nibble on
while he calculates the chance
that it will never rain again,
then writes it across the sky
in a language no one understands.
My allotment"For a man is destined to but once to live and allotted to each one time to die. This is the way it has been and will always be."My allotment5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Well, I can't really explain how it all happened or even why, so you'll get no help that way. What I can do is tell you what happened and maybe you can help me with the rest.
I was born the same as everyone else, went to school in Bozeman hated it just like everyone else grew up, got a girlfriend, got a job nearby; you know, I was a normal person. I got married and had two kids. I never moved out of the area. When my eldest was just three, war broke out. The entirety of Western Africa decided that it would be a good idea to invade Europe. With the sheer force of their numbers, it only took a few days. They greedily set their eyes on the rest of the world and, joined by certain expansionist nations in Asia, they opened the tides of battle.
Being a patriotic man, as far as you can b
Home is...Finally my arms are filledHome is...9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My heart is returned to it's home
The cold melts around me
You've returned, my love
Distorted ImageSuch a pretty girl she was,Distorted Image9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But she never knew her beauty
The mirror lied to her eyes,
Her loveliness shrouded
Reassurances always needed
And rarely accepted
"Am I pretty?", she asks
"Am I worthy of love?"
"Would I really listen if you said I was?"
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
And this beholder is blind
Oblivious to obvious perfection
All their Ooo's and Ahh's fall on deaf ears
Disregarding the beauty within her
And ignoring the beauty around her
Adoration goes unnoticed by downcast eyes
Raining down and rolling off
These words will never saturate her
And she's so thirsty for their compliments
She grasps at the words that flow through her fingers
Always escaping her grasp,
And her heart
As the days go by she repeats her daily routine,
She closes her eyes tight against her reflection and says,
Tomorrow I will be pretty
Smokes Chapter 1Smokes Chapter 14 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Zuko dreamed he was a prince who could control fire.
Zuko's alarm screeched and he jolted awake. The boy groaned and rolled over, kicking the tangle of sheets off his legs and slapping his hand down on the offending clock until it shut up. He got out of bed with a sigh, unhappy to leave the feelings of comfort behind, especially when he knew what was coming after.
Zuko wasn't a prince and he couldn't control fire.
The sleepy teen stumbled out of his room and into the hallway. He could hear his uncle moving around in the kitchen, but wasn't in any sort of mood to greet him, and so simply made his way to the bathroom.
Zuko caught a look of himself in the mirror and wished he hadn't. His hair had grown over the summer so that it was thick and messy, but it still couldn't cover the burn scar over the left side of his eye. He rubbed his good eye to clear it of sleep.
When he was little his mother had told him that the sleepies in his eyes in the morning were the left
Love and Eighth-Grade ScienceMy loveLove and Eighth-Grade Science2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is like white light,
Comprised of the entire color spectrum,
But for now it has been diffused into its original components
By the prism you have set forth.
The colors are brilliant but aimless,
Mere echoes between empty walls.
Is like potential energy, waiting
To be converted to kinetic energy,
At top speed and with incredible momentum.
But first, you have to push.
Norwegian Story: NykkenJeg hørte slik en fager melodi, der jeg vandret innover i de dype skoger. Det var en mannsstemme av den ytterste, beste slag. Den var som det instrument de spilte i paradis. Jeg var fanget av den. Jeg hørte kvistene knekke omkring meg mens jeg vandret. Skogen var allerede blitt mørkere, dunklere enn den var for en kort stund siden. "Hallo..?" sa jeg lavt mens jeg løftet på grangrenene som hang ned innover. Den våte myr som dekket skogbunnen føltes bløtere for hvert steg jeg tok i retningen av en fjern stemme, en fager mannsstemme.Norwegian Story: Nykken4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
"Hallo ?" sa jeg igjen, litt hørere enn sist gang og stoppet ved et stort, gammelt tre. Området rundt meg var blitt dekket av en lett, men allikevel tykk tåke, og bakken under meg ble enda mer bløt, nesten som grønn kvikksand. Rundt meg hørte jeg en vak, men tilstedeværende latter, små stemmer, nesten som barn. "Jeg er redd.." tenkte jeg mens jeg så meg rundt, lengtende
Poetry is my friendWallflower girlPoetry is my friend8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trying to blend with the scenery
Wishing for this night to end
And she can return to seclusion
Periods of small talk interrupting
Millennia of loneliness
Once the crowd is gone
She'll be safe once again
Surrounded by the comfort
Of the ones she truly loves
The ones who don't judge
If only books could hug back
Bits and PiecesSometimes I like to give awayBits and Pieces8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pieces of my heart
As if they'd grow back
Knowing they disappear forever
One day I worry I will give the last piece away
And think about the hollow in my chest
I won't regret it, how could I?
Even those thoughts don't slow me down
So here, take another piece
I have lots more to give away
I do think that maybe I will set one aside
And that one piece will be for me
Lie to me, honestlyYour lies blur your truthsLie to me, honestly8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so I can't tell them apart
I struggle with this dilemma,
wondering if I should let you go
How can I ever trust you again,
knowing I'll never be sure
I want to tell you everything
but what good would it do?
Why can't you speak?
Does the truth burn your tongue?
Your silence speaks volumes
to my unanswered questions
So I find my decision
but I struggle to choose it
Wishing I could wipe the slate clean
and start again with the truth
The Beginning Or The End?The Beginning Or The End?The Beginning Or The End?3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I dreamed a dream that was in my head. I had unexpectedly taken an afternoon nap, resting peacefully in our secret place. I laid out on the softness of an old quilted blanket I often took with me when I went deep within the woods outside of the town of Chester. My aunt Lori had made it when she was just a girl and then gave it to me when I was born. Raggedy and slightly torn, it was the perfect thing to use for a picnic without fear of it getting ruined because it was already on its way out. Octagon pieces of fabric of faded reds, blues, and grays, decorated lightly with tiny daisies. The stitching was obviously done by a child, tighter in some areas and loose in the others where hands had grown tired from sewing lessons.
The sun was nigh, warming my skin through breaks in the tree branches overhead. The backs of my eye lids were swimming in crimson-orange flickering light from the shadows of the swaying trees in the comf
This Heavy Love of MineI'm heavy on your shouldersThis Heavy Love of Mine3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm a weight in your arms
I'm a concrete foundation
I'm an iron charm
I've been battered and bruised
And haunted by my past
The memories, they're taunting me
Oh trust me, they're vast
I can't begin to tell you
But trust me, I've tried
I had the words ready
But yet again, I lied
I promised you honesty
To never lie to you
But really, what's wrong?
I haven't got a clue
I'm a mass of confusion
I'm a muddled mess
But believe me when I say
That I can't love you any less
These emotions are suffocating
All bottled up inside
And let me tell you now
You're in for a bumpy ride
This roller-coaster inside
Is starting to rust and break
It's leaving a hole in me
And oh, how it aches
And when I say I love you
Yes, trust me, I do mean it
But it's never been a blessing
Dooming all those who hear it
I'm Sorry.I'm sorry.I'm Sorry.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sorry that I'm not perfect,
That I have flaws,
That I have anger.
Sorry for the ADHD,
For the ignorance,
For the pain.
Sorry for being gay,
For being born,
For being me.
Ways to conquer heartbreakDance with fistfuls of roses, shred their petals one by one and wear their thorns like armor.Ways to conquer heartbreak2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Write your secrets between the folds of paper cranes and tuck them safely between the empty spaces of your castle ribs.
Open your broken heart to hummingbirds, allow them the warmth and shelter of your arms.
Rebel. Tape poetry to your limbs, Cummings and Sandburg and Sexton.
Take a walk outside of your skin for a while, run with wolves.
Extinguish that forest fire that’s been curling too long in your lungs.
Be that lionhearted girl those snobby poets always write about.
Allow that cavern of stars in your throat to speak your truths in uppercase letters, in free verse yet to be proofread.
Write about wars and victory.
Be the hero.
Alone and UnseenAlone and Unseen3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The chill in the breeze,
The frost on the ground,
Crisp on a moonlit night.
A young boy's figure
Glides through the streets,
His breath a clouded fog.
Eyes like crystals,
Hair like snow,
He walks with staff in hand.
Alone in the world,
Unseen by all,
He strides like a ghost through the town.
Young children seen
Through a window pane,
Bask in the glow of the hearth.
Unseen goes the boy
Who stares unnoticed and lost
At the joy before his eyes.
A tentative move,
A soft hand to the glass,
Which freezes beneath his touch.
He turns away,
To the dark of the night
And raises his head to the sky.
A tear flows unseen,
Silent and soft,
To be dashed on the frozen earth.
Calling winds forth,
Around him to swirl,
His feet lift off from the ground.
Invisible and alone,
He flies higher until
He melds with the sky and the stars.
"I want to be seen
And I want to be heard."
Only one hears this desperate boy's cry.
The Man in the Moon
Stares down on the scene,
At the lost and forgotten child.
In Other Words - 11. We see what we want to seeIn Other Words - 14 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
But only a drop of what could be
Stop me if I'm going on
I dream in stale complacency
He doesn't sleep, but sometimes he dreams.
Sometimes, when it's late at night and Hanna has long since fallen asleep, he sets down the book that he's reading. He leans his head back gently against the brittle, paper thin wall, tilts it slightly so he can just about see the small lump in the middle of the mattress that is his partner. He watches the slight rise and fall of Hanna's shoulders as he breathes, listens to his ragged but steady rhythm of inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. And, lulled by the tune of Hanna's slumber, he closes his eyes.
He doesn't fall asleep, and he knows it. He hasn't slept in years, although he's tried. But at the same time, he isn't quite awake, either. He drifts into the vague space between aware and unconscious, barely tethered to cognizance by the faint sound of
Worth the Kill? Chapter Four"John doing ok right?" Karkat asked hesitantly to the human beside him.Worth the Kill? Chapter Four3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The boy leaned over and watched him wash the dishes. "Yeah, Karkat you honestly can't mess up cleaning the dishes. It's like impossible." He laughed and dried the plates and pans that Karkat would rinse off.
"Good. I don't want to mess up."
"I think tomorrow I'll have you out front," He watched the troll's head whip around and his eyes widen, "Well not alone! I mean, you'll probably just end up restocking the shelves and cases. I wouldn't make you work the register yet!" He dried another dish off and set it down. "Besides I don't think we should shock our customers too fast by introducing you."
"Well yeah. Sorry Karkat."
John noticed Karkat smile a bit, "Fine. I understand. I not ready yet too."
"I am not ready yet," John corrected, "You need to remember that one."
"Sorry. I not, don't, remember everything all the time."
"It's ok Karkat. We'll work on it. Soon you be super fluent! An
At days endTurn the music upAt days end8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So loud I can't hear myself think
So loud I can't hear myself feel
Anything I can sing to
Anything I can scream to
I need some anesthetic before I crack
counting, Counting, COUNTING
Threads of sanity unravel so quickly
I weave until my fingers bleed
My tapestry becoming steadily crimson
A stain I fear may never fade
But still I weave, I will forever weave..