A Secret Cord"I'd like to bring this to a whole new psychosis."
Sweat pinned itself within the air. The temperature rose with every tug on the rope, those thick knots stressing a tight grip around a pair of frail wrists. The time of day became unknown when a busted eye opened to a room full of old colors. The windows were sheathed with a silver shield--a cheap brand of aluminum foil, and as if it were a mirror, he starred at his crumpled reflection.
"Did you hear me?"
Distance became difficult to judge. One eye swollen, and the other hazy, her body wobbled for an impossible freedom. Her strength weak, she respond:
"Where am I?"
"I don't know."
He stepped while finishing: "Do not know."
He kneeled before her. Suddenly, the pale colors of the room blurred. Her breath left her swiftly, and the man starred at her under such propulsion. The swinging ceiling fan chattered. The swinging ceiling fan chattered. It chattered.
A rapid heartbeat tampered with the tension.
Airless"Airless"Airless2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter Zero: "Young Observations"
The landscape confused me at times. My reasons for such misunderstandings made little sense to me until I reached adulthood, and even now, I’ve wondered about my birth within the corrupted society. Our homes were built sparingly of a single wood with so few nails that it often lead to the failure of an entire structure. Several homes collapsed within recent times on my very street yet my family viewed these instances so normally.
My father’s occupation provided me and my small family a bit more nails for our home and maybe a bit more food on the table. His wisdom earned him a seat among the Village’s Council, though he often complained about the fore coming decisions. My mother argued with him about his beliefs and morals surrounding these results, but they typically ended their predicaments agreeing to disagree and dropped the subject.
The serpent streets, serving as both paths and front yards, wound through the poorer qua
road signsi'm a carroad signs5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
driving down a street
filled with "no parking" zones
that lead to nowhere
i can stop
and ask for directions
but everyone says
"just keep going straight"
so i do
but the monotony
its getting to me
and the vantage point
seems so far
the sun in my eyes
all i do is squint
and look on
i'm just driving
never really getting anywhere
following the lines
painted to keep me
following the path
that leads nowhere
is the right hand turn
that breaks up the nothing
making my drive
seem to have a point
she took the boring
and changed it all
now i'm on a different path
no longer blinded
by the light
only by love. <3
somber sad and quietsomber sad and quietsomber sad and quiet5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
its how i wish to be
i can't really explain it
but its not allowed
something would be wrong
people would worry
worrying about me
how utterly ridiculous
but in my words
i can be whomever
i can be depressed
i can be selfish
i can be jealous
i can be cruel
i can be scared
i can be someone else
someone no one knows.
Old SoulsDoc says I’m an oldOld Souls1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
soul, with my postcards
and letters, and waste-no-words
policy. Doc says old souls still make eye
contact instead of playing with iPhones,
mirrors that stare back, and tell
us who we are by knowing
who they are.
Doc tells me I’m an old
soul in a young body, taming
wild Internets and bringing my words
to heel like a triple score
in a game of Scrabble.
That I was born in the wrong
decade, that I was meant to punch
typewriter keys like a boxer,
that the twenty-first century
wasn’t made for old souls like mine.
Doc thinks I’m too old
to be twenty-three, constantly forgetting
the barriers of my few years.
Like that I never wrote about myself
until he gave me moments
worth writing down, and cared
about the person behind the words.
That I learned who I was by learning
who he was, and drew a timeline
of intersection points where each
node became a poem, and each poem
became a stepping stone.
Doc unearthed an old
soul in my notebook.
Old like a favori
Between the WordsLETBetween the Words2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Apart from nature's wonders.
To an unforgivable place
The brink of extinction.
Undeniable series of events,
Thrills leading us on this devastating
To a new world.
My Rosie 'You got wires, going in,My Rosie1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
you got wires, coming out of your skin'
'If you should die before I leave, what on earth becomes of me?'
- Robbie Williams.
I approach the doorway with a bouquet of white tulips and look over at Rose. She looks so serene. So content. Her eyelids closed, her dark hair brushed and parted just the way she likes it, her hands clasped gently on the duvet over her stomach. She looks beautiful. At peace. I almost don’t want to disturb her but I need to be by her side. I need to be with her. I only left her side for ten minutes, but that’s ten minutes more than I would like.
Her hospital room is spacious, making her look even
(ii) The Sunlight Through The Flags 'These accidents of faith and nature,(ii) The Sunlight Through The Flags2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
they tend to stick in the spokes of you'
- Snow Patrol.
Who knows how long I have been sitting up on this hill? Watching the rain accumulate into deep puddles at the bottom. Watching the trees dance rhythmically yet decisively to a silent melody. Watching the weak sun struggle to break through the dark clouds. I think back to the storm five months ago, the storm that brought Reimi and I together. We were sitting in this exact spot all through the night until daybreak. My right hand clasped tightly over her left, her head resting gently against my shoulder. The red of my raincoat against the yellow marigold of Reimi’s raincoat. Our own material sun created in the dark.
That night we decided to stay and watch the storm, unable to tear ourselves
HammerMaybe we should keep things simple.Hammer2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
You know it well.
That mold can be broken
With just a twist on the simplest phrase.
On the simplest metaphors, we rise.
Maybe I'm not being clear enough,
But if you kept my head out of the clouds,
Would we keep this simple thing going
In the direction of happiness?
Maybe it's not that simple.
Maybe my clarity is too transparent.
You see right through me
In to the other side,
And realize I'm often invisible.
I'm often over looked.
I'm often threatened.
But if you broke me,
Broke me like you always had,
Would the cracks be more appealing
To your naked eye?
Then break me.
I can't stand it
When you can't see me.
Strike my soul
Like a heartless hammer strikes
A thin vase.
Is there even a slight thought,
Any bit of hesitation,
That you might want to pick up the pieces?
I'll let you assemble me
However you want.
Please don't cut yourself
Against the thin edges.
For creating this contradiction.
Am I the only person
Who sees majesty
In a o
Correlation and CausationSad people are notCorrelation and Causation1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
poets; poets are poets,
and some poets are sad.
Kiss Me ‘Together we were made’Kiss Me1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
- The Feeling.
‘I know the only thing I've ever found
that’s greater than it always sounds is love’
- White Lies.
Michael gently covers my eyes with his left hand and carefully directs me forwards by holding onto my side with his right. What is he up to this time? All I know is he instructed me to put on my best dress and meet him at the bottom of the stairs. I opted for my bright red knee-length dress that he bought for me last Christmas. I even curled the ends of my dark brown hair and touched up my make-up as he seemed to be planning something special. I can’t help but giggle as he gui