Bones"There are good days and there are bad days," you would say to me as you would try and explain away why the whiskey bottle was empty again this morning, why you smelled like her and why you thought it was best to let me know what you had done. At least that way, you were absolved of the gift of lying; the one your bones were too light to lift and just couldn't take, by bestowing me with betrayal.Bones3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My mother would bring me an encouraging cup of tea in a giant pink mug instead of a cup and explain, "There are good days and there are bad days." Her eyes were always full of positive energy and strength and good will. I look back to those days and try and gain the strength she had in her bones from her words. I always fail.
They told me I had a disease within my bones. It started from the bottom of my knee and was moving upwards. Because that is what bones did. They broke from the inside out. "There will be good days and bad days," they warned me. I knew at that very point that it was going
bodies like star systems.“the neighbor’s house smelledbodies like star systems.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the ocean when i walked past,” you say.
“it’s a sign that i’m drowning.”
“i stepped in two patches of fresh dirt.
it’s a sign that they’ll be digging my grave.”
“i saw the boy i’d lost my virginity to today.
it’s a sign that i’m going to cheat on you.”
“you wake me up with this shit,” he says in annoyance.
“is that a sign i should break up with you?”
“no,” you say, not looking at him, fighting
to keep smiling. “it means -”
he goes back to bed.
he thinks you don’t get it,
but you do.
he teaches you about chemistry,
about physics and the stars.
he teaches you that the universe is finite,
but constantly expanding;
he takes you hand to his chest, and says
“like my feelings for you.”
used to be, you thought he was your gravity
because you were so drawn to him
End RemembranceEnd Remembrance3 years ago in Historical More Like This
Remembrance Day originates at the end of World War I. The idea is to honor those who died in the line of duty, defending their country from enemies. For all its pompous words and fancy granite memorials littered with colorful flower bouquets, Remembrance Day and others like it have failed miserably in achieving this goal.
I've often been criticized as having no respect, and that can be an impediment when discussing certain topics. However, I am often in luck – hypocrisy deserves no respect. What changed as a result of the enormous sacrifice of those who died in WW1? As the first bombs of WW2 fell just two decades later, millions once again obediently lined up under various pieces of colored cloths to slaughter and be slaughtered. It became obvious that absolutely nothing had changed, and that the millions of WW1 had died in vain.
Most would agree that all that lip service paid to the sacrifice between the two world wars wasn't good enough. To truly honor their sacrifice would be
After Words"I wish you would give it back to me."After Words3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Why? You'll just break it again."
"It's my heart. I will do whatever the hell I want with it."
"Yeah? Well, you take terrible care of things that are yours."
"Fine. Keep it. I am equal parts concrete and soul anyway."
"You say that, but I'm not entirely sure that you are. I think you're deep, and fragile and broken, and that makes you beautiful."
"Again, concrete and soul. "
"I wish you wouldn't make this so hard."
"So hard? I'm making this easy. You gave me dreams of half feathered swans and a stupid house on an endless beach and a city made of an ocean, and now you're taking it all away. But at least I had them for a while."
"Don't be that way."
"I am going to be awake every single night and wish for a shooting star, so I can wish upon that shooting star to wish thoughts of you away."
"I wish this could be easier on you. You gave me so much and so many too."
"So much of love and so many wishes?"
"No, so much wishing and so many love
Dark CornersHumanity, humbleness, hope; all words that lay stale on my tongue as if heavy rocks or stones that wish to crush my sentences into perfectly moulded letters. The looks of despair are like poison mixed with the swirls of sickly love it makes my stomach turn vile. The deadly touches to my shoulders, my neck, my cheeks send the shivers of Jotunheim through my bones and attempts to crush my skull into the sweet mercy of submission, though I will not bend into this macabre style.Dark Corners1 year ago in Drama More Like This
Treasures once so dear to me now collapse at my feet like the dead sparrows discarded by a panther, pathetic, useless, hated. Delicate swooping inked books and soft silks are offered with eagerness, with those same useless glances of hope and pity urging me to recognise, to take these lifeless items in my little hands and clutch them to my chest as if cradling a new-born babe to my heart. Instead I abandon, for I have no heart to beat.
But the expressions refuse to dissolve away with my acid.
It sickens me, tu
DaffodilsDaffodils3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils.
A solitary path I claimed
In seeking shelter from the crowd;
And lo, when all deserted me,
I wandered lonely as a cloud
I sought the green and grassy knolls
Between the rustic barns and mills,
And spied the new winged, dappled lark
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
The silent majesty of thoughts
Was broken as I dreamed aloud.
I was wrested from my reverie
When all at once I saw a crowd
This treasure grows and rests upon
the fertile soil where river spills
I'll rest my weary bones within
A host of golden daffodils.
I Walk This Earth, For NothingI Walk This Earth, For Nothing3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I walk this earth, for nothing
I have no dreams
I have no hope, for tomorrow
I'm not happy, I'm not sad
I can hardly smile
I rarely cry
My emotions, they are dead
I walk this earth, for nothing
I walk this earth
simply to walk on it
I walk this earth, and I keep moving
Nothingness, that's my reason
My reason to smile
My reason to cry
My reason, for everything I do
Nothingness, is my hope
The reason I live
The reason I will die
Nothingness, a sweet word
For me, nothingness is a reason, it's a reason to live
also , life is a dark road, you never know what you will find
FishermenFishermen4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from tiny boats,
sampans and coracles -
red sails threading the sky
like poppies in the autumn sun.
Whales slip through waves
hunting silvered krill
and the spiny dusk
of urchins clinging to the sand.
And they wait
for lines to pull
their hands under
glistening with eel
hauling the afternoon
back to market
in hempen nets.
TreesTrees4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The secret life
of elm and oak
and thin white poplars -
on a winter night,
grazing the moon
like tapers in December.
I smell earth -
peat and cedar
and the indulgent bulge
crafting the air
like a smith
lost in his work.
Chestnuts bear an offering
and the yearning pall
of pine scents the sky
till it's thick with resin.
And they gather
with boughs and limbs
bent like priests at play,
roots tight as ancient drums
to ruminate on stories,
sinewed in fragrant bark
making merry where
the green bends back
Sherlock/Mycroft textsWhere are you going? MHSherlock/Mycroft texts3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Take a guess. SH
I'll get someone to figure it out for me. MH
I hate you. SH
I should hit you on the head with my umbrella, you know. MH
You're irritating me. SH
That's the point, if I'm not mistaken. MH
-Ignoring your irritating messages. SH
Just doing my job; but you know you'll get bored. And being bored is well, "dull" in your words, I recall. I dare you to ignore me. MH
Challenge accepted. SH
And challenge failed. MH
Truce? Handshake? MH
My ring contains a needle dipped in poison from the South American poison dart frog. Handshake= bad idea. It's truce enough that I told you. SH
Fair enough. *shrugs casualy* I'll just tell you my secret later, then. MH
You spelled "casually" wrong. SH
You still got to what I was trying to say, though. MH
It makes you look like even more of an idiot than u
Sherlock : 5 + 1 Baby5 unacceptable names for baby and 1 which was just perfectSherlock : 5 + 1 Baby4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
They lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The Baby had been asleep in his crib for nearly two hours.
"What do you think of Mark?" John asked.
"No. It somehow reminds me of Mycroft."
"How? Mark has nothing to do with Mycroft!"
"The first letter is the same." Sherlock eyed him in the gloom. "It's enough."
John rolled his eyes. "What about Martin--No. First letter, right."
"Yes. And I don't want our child to grow up obsessed with aeroplanes. So Martin is out. As are Douglas and Arthur."
John giggled. Sherlock was impossible.
"Steven?" the good doctor asked, after few minutes filled with quiet snoring from the crib.
"Name me a Steven who isn't a troll! Come on, John, use your imagination!"
"Hey! I'm trying to! I've given you at least twenty names in the last two--"
He was cut short by a wail. Oh, so it was already two hours and twenty-one minutes? The Baby worked like a Swiss watch. John watched Sherlock--thank God it was
Windmilli am raw;Windmill5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
waiting for the skillet
me though the windmill
be careful not to
me through the windmill
paint on me, a target:
paint on me,
a smiling face
i am burnt;
waiting for the sunset
me through the windmill
be very careful not to
me through the windmill
lips like morphine
words flow like ipecac
until you come back
lips like morphine
against your scattered
love is a windmill
for this reason, i slow our blades
Fanfiction - Chapter One: An Eventful Meeting“Doctor, we can’t run for long,” said Amy.Fanfiction - Chapter One: An Eventful Meeting2 years ago in Humor More Like This
“We can’t stop; the Daleks will catch up to us,” replied the Doctor.
“Doctor, Amy has a point, we been running for weeks,” said Rory, holding on to the TARDIS tightly.
“Fine,” said the Doctor.
“Pikachu! Where are you?” yelled Ash
“Pikachu!” yelled Dawn and Brock.
“Piplup!” called Piplup.
“Pika! Pika!” There came a distant sound.
“Pikachu!” yelled Ash. “Where are you?”
“Pika! Pika!” said Pikachu again, popping up in front of his friends.
“There you are,” said Ash, relieved.
Suddenly, a blue box appeared with a strangely grating sound and a man with a bowtie came out, followed by another man and a woman.
“Who are you?” asked Brock.
“I’m the Doctor.”
“The Doctor?” asked Ash. “Doctor who?”
“Just the Doctor and this is Amy
Sherlock Holmes - An Adventure in Elementary“Office worker.”Sherlock Holmes - An Adventure in Elementary3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, seven and fourteen respectively, took turns describing the lesser people on the street to each other. The weather was dreary that morning, and the brothers’ feet smacked loudly against the wet pavement. Off in the distance, through the fog that had rolled in, a tall building stood out among the various homes lining the streets. This building was the school.
When they reached the school, the boys could see the mass of children, previously obscured by the fog, which had been converging outside of the doors to the elementary. Some were in tears, clinging to their parents’ pant legs, while others jumped excitedly and babbled to the others. Giving the woman who he could already tell was the teacher a disapproving look, Sherlock asked “How can she be a teacher after tha
Eight YearsMy daughter was bornEight Years6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eight years ago, today
Man, she's got some crazy blonde hair
Well, dirty blonde anyways
I got a guitar in my lap
My baby girl by my side
I strum her favorite song
For Fighting, and damn
I got to the part in the song
"In the blink of an eye,
Sixty-seven is gone,
The sun is getting high,
We're movin' on"
And I crashed
I burned hard
I muted my voice
And put down my guitar
I laid down one rose
And, shakily humming the tune
I left a pink guitar propped up
Against the tomb-
stone of my girl
She always wanted to play
My daughter died
Two years ago today
She didn't get
100 Years to live
And me, well, so far, I've only gotten six
As far as I'm concerned
I'm buried too
Everything my heart ever gave
Is lying in a grave
Right next to my kid
- Will Schenck
Three SlicesSebastian Moran had been a colonel, a hunter and a professional gambler. Becoming the right-hand man of a Moriarty teapot wasn’t the strangest thing to ever happen to him.Three Slices2 years ago in Humor More Like This
And assisting in its archenemy’s demise wasn’t the strangest thing he’d ever done.
As ordered, he’d casually mentioned to his girlfriend Ronnie how interesting Holmes teapots were.
She’d discussed it with Mrs Turner, who’d asked Mrs Hudson if the WI could borrow Sherlock for mid-morning tea.
“Why don’t I just ‘accidentally’ knock it off the table?” Moran had said.
But the Moriarty had wanted to play first.
After it was all over, Moran had gone to retrieve his CO.
“You’re too late,” Mrs Hudson had said tearfully, showing him the pieces of the Moriarty on the floor.
He’d controlled his temper. What was the point of risking prison over a batty old woman? The Holmes teapot was the one he wanted revenge against and that
ShackledThere is a corridor of insanityShackled6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the eastern wing of the renaissance man's mind
Rooms run up and down the hall
Containing, shackled, to the walls
Men of the wickedest and most chaotic descent.
These are not the criminals of the world outside-
They are the villains of our consent.
Open any door
In the corridor
A poet scribbles (madly)
A writer schemes (sadly)
A composer fiddles (badly)
And a painter dreams with melancholy eyes
As a lone musician cries
Over the state of his ungodly wound guitar strings...
Through their souls, insanity sings.
These are thoughts of a younger man put aside
Overcast by the western wing
Where "sanity" resides
And all of these creators
Can only sit and stare
Defeated by the beast of a man
Who has grown, while unaware
Of the things he has lost, of the talent thrown away
The prisoners do sit, and watch every day
Through a window, looking, across a field that separates
A young free mind
From a place so unkind
And yet still:
In every one of their cripple
Too shyOh god, look; He's online.Too shy2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Your heart lets off a harsh thud before going into a more... pleasant -if I may use that word- hyperdrive.
What should you do? Do you message him? Wait for him to talk to you first? What if he doesn't? You don't wanna seem desperate, but in all honesty, you are...
Just as you're about to cave, he beats you to punch. Your heart leaps with joy. He initiated the conversation! That must mean he likes you... Or at the very least, likes talking to you. You regain your composure as you type what you think is a witty response.
A conversation sparks, and the two of you talk for hours; though to you it feels like just minutes. He actually tells you he has to go rather than just logging off and you two are able to say a proper goodbye.
While you’re happy for that, another fact weighs heavy on your mind…
You still hadn’t told him how you felt.
It would’ve been a perfect opportunity; you were getting along just fine, and the mood seemed right. All
A New Order: Chapter 2A New Order: Chapter 24 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Alessa didn't know how long she knelt next to her sister's body. She cried until her eyes couldn't produce any more tears. She finally looked up and was surprised to find the man in white still standing there. He knelt beside her and he reached forward. He closed Lia's eyelids and she could barely hear him whisper, "Requiescat in Pace."
Alessa gulped back the lump in her throat. The man slowly stood up and he said, "If you want to bury her and your parents, come with me."
Alessa looked up at him in awe. The sun was starting to rise. The light made his robes seem to glow. He looked like a guardian angel. "Who are you?" she asked.
The man smiled sadly. "You'll have plenty of time to find that out later. But now, you need to focus on your family."
Alessa nodded. She knew he was right. Alessa tried to stand with Lia's limp body in her arms. Her feet cried out in protest and her legs started to shake. The man took Lia's body from her arms. He held the little girl gently and he let Alessa le
savedShe did it over Spring Break, while I was on vacation in Mexico. As I was sipping a piña colada, a magazine tipped open on my lap, my best friend took a deadly cocktail of Tylenol and pilfered wine. She left a note, tightly fisted in her hand, for those she left behind. In it, she divided up her belongings, said the necessary goodbyes. She didn't tell us why. We don't know why.saved4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That's what keeps me up at night. Not the teddy bear she'd had as a child that sits on my shelf. Not her text messages still saved on my phone. Not even the horrible funeral, her body like marble in the coffin. It's not that I didn't save her. It's that I didn't know she needed to be saved.
Find MeLily is five years old, but she doesn't act like it. Her mother, Hannah, doesn't know what to think of this little creature, all curly black hair and huge gray eyes. Lily's always talking, always asking, always wanting to know why. A week ago Lily was obsessed with the excitement of the world outside her bedroom window. Now, all she can think of is herself. In particular, why she is so different. Her freckled face is tilted up at Hannah and her features are pinched in confusion.Find Me4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Mama," She's saying, her childlike voice almost musical in its simplicity. "How come Liss and me look so different? But how come you look like Liss, and Daddy looks like Liss, but I look like nobody?" Lily asks questions that Hannah does not have easy answers to.
"Well," She ponders over her daughter's queries. "Well. Lily, it's because we got you special. Liss grew in my belly." Lily laughs and pokes at her mother's stomach. "But you, Lily-child, you grew right here." Hanna points to her heart.
"I don't get i
WondermentSome days, I find myselfWonderment3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the s e c o n d s
of my heart
what I could have
and a lot
l e s s
but all I can manage
. . . . . . .
I miss you
I love you
i love you
i love you
How to annoy MerlinBeware. Merlin is a sorcerer. If you turn into a frog, not my problem!How to annoy Merlin2 years ago in Humor More Like This
1. Show him the Arthur and Merlin fanfictions.
2. Remind him of his feathery outfit. Tell him it was fashionable.
3. Ask Merlin if he has 6 packs. Over. And. OVER. Again.
4. Say, "Hey Merlin, I think there's a woodworm in my bed, could you look?"
5. Whisper "EMMMMMERYYSSSSSSS" in his ear
6. Make fun of the way he says 'No' NOOOOWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
7. Talk in a false British accent, like 'ello govnah'
8. Tell him that you know his secret, very creepilly.
9. Tell him that you know he liked Morgana
10. If he denies it, just make up something like, "Studies say that when someone denies in the span of 5 seconds, that means it is true"