MessEverywhere I goMess2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every single place
The troubles seem to grow
Every smiling face
Eventually frowns with woe
Why can't I do
I just screw
Up everything despite
The happiness I try to spew
Is it me
Am I the source of this ache
Does the pain flow free
Is this what I make
Should I go away and hide
Never to see others
Or the outside
But would I stop another's
Pain and be the only one that ever cried
What is a life with no grey
When everyone is sad
I'd give it all away
It wouldn't be that bad
I would finally be able to say
I saved a life
Prussia X Reader-To the Bar We Go!!!Prussia X Reader-To the Bar We Go!!!3 years ago in Romance More Like This
[Prussia X Reader-To the Bar We Go!]
Authors Note: I do not own Hetalia or Gilbert (though I'm not sure if I want him to be mine) they belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and you belong to Mother Russia da?
You lie on your right side hugging a pillow and hiding your face in it, you were lying on the edge of the bed facing Gilbert.
"I'm not going to rape you frau." He laughed as he propped up his head with his left elbow, watching you.
"Yeah well I'm afraid of what you MIGHT do." You laughed, peeking through the pillow. Gilbert shook his head and smiled at you.
"I wouldn't do anything to hurt you frau." He said.
You had been friends with Gilbert for as long as you can remember and you had been dating him for seven years now, Gilbert had asked you if you wanted to take your relationship one step further by living with him, you two had bought a house in a nice neighborhood and you had told him of your concerns about doing certain 'stuff' outside of wedlock and he had SURPRISINGLY taken in qui
Evening childWe’d sit on porch stepsEvening child2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Insecticide burning our lungs
Awkward and gangly attempting to grow into our limbs
You with freckles dusting your nose and I with a small dot on my cheek
You called it a beauty spot and I said god was too lazy to give me freckles
We were 15 and lust driven amnesiacs
Dissolving our flesh with cheap gin in your tree house
Throwing pebbles at the sky hoping to shatter it
We were an epidemic of the underdog prognosis
Playing encores to an audience of cowards
For some reason we’d always rush across rail way tracks
Metal bars quivering and our broken sneakers stumbling
We were branded in mistakes and embellished in thin silvery scars
Battle scars we’d say laughing because there was nothing else to do
The Man in the Coffee ShopThe man who works at the coffee shop looks like you. I noticed this some time ago and have since frequented the place. He recognizes me now. He smiles at me when I come in. His smile even looks like yours. He doesn't say hey though- you always said hey.The Man in the Coffee Shop4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I still work at the library even though you're not there.
Sometimes I look over to your desk and expect to see you typing at your computer, but someone else is there now. It's not you.
Sometimes someone will come in who looks like you. Maybe he will have the same hair, same stature, same profile, same laugh, same voice. It's never been you.
Sometimes I drive myself crazy. I pull at my hair and scream 'till my lungs burst. I scream for and at you. I ask how you could have left me here.
Sometimes I allow myself to believe that I will see you again. By chance we will run into each other in a Wal-Mart far away.
I go to the coffee shop on Tuesday afternoons. I order a small chai tea with milk.
Sometimes the man is working at th
Lucky Chance: SpainXReaderNoise pollution. Who coined the term again?Lucky Chance: SpainXReader3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Rhythms blasted in discord and words paraded all over the room. Chaos. Chaos everywhere. The lights were out and only the glow from the TV screen allowed you to see.
You couldn't figure out whether you should be happy about letting your friends decide on how to celebrate your day. Arthur instantly won their support by suggesting to go singing in a karaoke bar. They were sick of swallowing grease from Alfred's food preferences and so were you and besides, you were always up for an adventure.
You could only smile at your unbelievable friends. It was a good thing that they decided to rent a sound-proof compartment that only had two microphones, or else you wouldn't have a face to show from your embarrassment.
"Happy birthday, _____________!"
They cheered and sang you the most popular song in the world.
"Thank you, guys!" You said, giving them a tearful look, astonished that your sense of hearing still wasn't distorted.
Alfred and Arthur sn
these are the last things i'll say before i'm goneIf I had to give a name to what I'm feeling I would just call it disappearing. Because it's exactly like the way that you can know everything about someone one day and nothing the next. It's the quick death love has that leaves you wanting more or wanting it back in the best and worst of ways.these are the last things i'll say before i'm gone3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
If I had to explain I would say this feeling is something like standing outside of your door at four in the morning, even though I know I shouldn't be here, wearing the same wrinkled clothes I had on the day before, wanting nothing more than to beg to come home, but knowing better, because following the motions isn't really the best follow through.
I won't admit how much I miss you I can't, but I can tell you this.
The thing about disappearing is that it doesn't stop me from wanting to be completely impossible to forget. And maybe that's a bit of an anomaly, but I've never made much sense to begin with anyway.
And sure, we're all different in the same ways, but I want to be differen
Blue Eyed Childhood: AmericaXReader(NOTE: If you're American, assume another nationality)Blue Eyed Childhood: AmericaXReader3 years ago in Drama More Like This
The taxi driver thanked you for the generous tip and bid you a happy and safe trip. In a few hours, you would be leaving the Land of the Free.
You looked around and sighed. The John F. Kennedy Airport seemed so unkind with all the sadness you were carrying in your heart. There used to be so much excitement in the place when you first set foot in it more than a week ago. But now that you were leaving with such heavy thoughts, you only reminisced the past two weeks because you couldn't revive the feeling anymore
Your colleague, who was sitting by the window, squealed like a giddy child. "Hey look, we're already here!"
You were in a deep slumber when she did so, but you ignored the disturbance. You took a peek outside the window to stop her from squealing. The view from above made you understand how your colleague felt. The sun smiled so brightly at the Manhattan skyscrapers. It was simply spectacular.
The plane had landed. It t
The First Time I Cried While Reading PoetryHe asked if a soul can acheThe First Time I Cried While Reading Poetry4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
while I wondered
do little girls in Thailand
sleeping in servitude
and blameless sin
believe God loves them?
He reached across the sheets, pressed
the pad of his left thumb into my hip,
and impaled miracles on dull words:
"look at us, all agony and grace."
Then rolled away.
I kissed his palms,
closed my eyes,
knew love to be a rabid dog.
The first time I cried while reading poetry,
he sighed and asked:
"does the world make more sense
when it's blurry?"
But the bite doesn't hurt as much.