Midnight waltzNico slowly walked along the tombstones. Cold breath of the night made him pull coat closer to his body. "You´re late," said voice behind him. He turned sharply. "I'm sorry. I had some duties." Woman with beautiful blond hair jumped down from low wall. In light, quick step, she went to Nico.Midnight waltz2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Nobody followed?" She asked tenderly stroking his face. Nico shook his head. "You said it was urgent. What happened?" Woman´s features hardened. "The Vatican has gone mad," she whispered. "They want war." "No," breathed Nico and grabbed her hand. "Stella, it can´t-"
"It's true," she said sharply. "They sent us a declaration of war. I saw it. Tomorrow... Today at midnight it´ll begin." Both of them involuntarily looked at watches. It was quarter to eleven.
"What does this mean for us?" Nico asked worriedly. "We can´t yet..." Stella shook her head and sat down on one of the tombstones. "This wasn´t supposed happen," she whispered bitterly. Nico sat down to her and hugge
Love HurtsHow can you keepLove Hurts5 years ago in Other More Like This
F U C K I N G
me when I am
B E G G I N G
you to please
S T O P.
How can you
L O V E
me when I am a canvas of
B R U I S E S
inflicted by your
H A N D S.
I thought you were my
P R I N C E
but it turns out you're
N O T.
barren heartall that is left is skin and bone, breaths quiver as i lie against you, arms hold me tight, making me believe there is nothing missing here. nothing,barren heart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but really we are broken, torn so far from where we began. how did we get here? can you tell me? our hearts hold too much inside, hold too much history. each beat aches through my insides, whispering for me to let myself go, let
the pain take over, for you to take what's left of me. until there is nothing, but emptiness, an echo heard, loneliness felt.
we are balloons left from the fingertips of faces we barely recognize anymore, our surroundings untraceable. breaths barely swallowed, words barely heard, this world feels too still, too dead to me now.
how did this all stop making sense? the edges of my eyes ache with tears, not wanting to fall. pain runs down me, breaking my bones. it wavers through the air making
my thoughts turn stale, my body cold. i cry to you, cry that i cannot feel anything anymore. cannot dare to look into your eye
masochist likes the anorexici.masochist likes the anorexic5 years ago in Post-Teen (Mature) More Like This
i don't know where my life went. and what got me to this point.
i remember that one night where we didn't have enough money to take the city bus home. i remember you, with your devious good looks - that jet black hair and those tight jeans you always used to wear. your angular jawline and the way you looked all starry-eyed. you asked the bus lady if she can make an exception for us, justonce but undoubtedly she said no. so we walked on the side of the road to my house - giving the finger as the bus passed us by. we were like children in love at the age of five, dancing underneath the street lights with asphalt marking the soles of our feet, and blisters forming on our toes.
the night held a silence that was deafening, and an aphotic oblivion infront of us. i remember you had atleast 10 cigarettes as we walked home. i didn't ever say a word of protest, mostly because of the way you made me transfixed as you inhaled the chemicals - i would watch the end burn ferociously unt
I'll Hold Your Heart And Never Let Goyou fractureI'll Hold Your Heart And Never Let Go2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when he talks
when he laughs
when he meets your eyes)
and maybe he doesn't know
that he has you
like a butterfly in his net
(and doesn't he understand that your wings are ohsofragile?)
a paper boat
in his ocean
and he's got you
hook, l i n e and sinker
(but now you're mixing metaphors and
won't he reel you in?)
you think he knows
so he plays with you
like a cat
with a rat
and a sharpness to his laugh
that should S C A R E you
(but you've always been addicted to dangerous things like
and damn it, it's c h r i s t m a s
that magicandmiricles happen at christmas
when you get drunk
and wake up on his chest
the next morning
you thank god
and your mother for bringing you into the world
you thank the MOON and the s*t*a*r*s and the earth itself
i'm losti hold onto you too tightly, just how the clouds drift against the the evening sky. i find it comforting watching them, realizing that they are moving with us too everyday, running from something.i'm lost5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or maybe it's just that they are lost, each second farther away from the truth, from where they began, with soon nowhere to go.
they don't seem frightened, they seem at home in the unopened arms of the sky, the fact that nothing ever stays quite the same.
the way the hardwood floor feels against my hollow cheeks, my gaunt skin, makes me want to surrender. waver through the rays of sunlight, melt into the cracks of the ground.
it makes me want to shorten each unwilling breath until finally nothing hurts, nothing caves onto me, nothing feels anymore.
i hold onto you too tightly, i've realized. my knuckles flourish white, my bones ache against the empty space that keeps widening, without you to fill it.
the years stick to me, memories like bruises, never fading. only becoming
Cadaver HotelI live inside of your corpse. StealingCadaver Hotel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in through the incision
between your ribcage and hipbone, I burrow
myself inside of your embalmed organs and
wrap my fingers around your bones,
clutching until my knuckles turn
the same kind of white.
Though you are dead,
your body sometimes quakes-
spasms and sends a flash-pulse of postmortem waves
over me. For quick sucks of air,
I crawl up and out of your pretty mouth, careful
not to hit your crooked teeth.
To avoid dying inside of you-
oh, how I long to-
I have taken
to gnawing on the insides of your cheeks
and the sinewy parts of your
Yesterday you began to reek
the way dead things do,
while it is sour,
it still smells like you.
and i call it revoltingand tongues that wag like the tail of a dog,and i call it revolting2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shit-stained teeth that glare in the suffocating light,
bouncing off lips that crack with each move,
canyons of dry skin as if fingers peeled it
like a sickly brown banana, pus slithering,
a melted snake, with a melted red tongue,
flowing between its lips.
lashes like whips that slap at the cheek,
worms burying into thin ducts, curling upwards,
away from the white swamp with mold in the center,
a vile stench stinging their nostrils.
they lick the pus from the canyons,
inserting their tongue in between cracked skin,
gazing into swamps, fluttering the worms,
and wagging their tongue like a dog.
they call it romantic.
The Petulant PetalProselyting the petulantThe Petulant Petal2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
petal of paraphrase.
Call him king
and move onward to the morrow.
Nothing else sells
such as sorrow -
Never has value more than Ever
and the risk is all venture in a capital
soul and mind the sinner.
We know the body is but a sloth
and society is but an atom
reflection - eve of Adam.
But do we see the artwork
of the sagacity and artist?
No, we supply the demand of man
and women falter to impress. . .
he who does not impress himself.
There is no reprieve -
from the dawn of another humanized dream.
losing everything i never hadit's an early morning as the sun is rising, stepping into my mother's room and moving towards her bed, careful not to disturb the dark shadows on the walls, or the lulling silence that's filling the steps between us, i ask her when she wearily opens her eyes, "why was i born?"losing everything i never had5 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
her face held no expression, and she didn't reply
she didn't reply
i might as well not have gotten out of bed today.
i might as well be -
and sometimes as i'm sitting in the passenger seat, i lose track of where i'm headed. i lose track of the fact that i'm moving, i'm moving somewhere slowly across a map. i'm moving with the world, and i'm just one person out of so many. so fucking many. i watch the rode beneath the tires blur passed us. i watch the clouds drift along with us, the trees look like ghosts. i feel the time move along with us, as the sun falls to the floor and gives up letting the stars take it's place. the moon has painted my skin white, just as i sputter out my words and let them fade
Chce zycNie, już nieChce zyc5 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
Nie chcę być
Takim jakim chcesz
Chcę mówić nie"
Chcę mówić tak"
Chcę być tym
Dość już milczenia
I mojego cierpienia
Dość samotności, łez
Nie chcę siły
Którą mi dałeś
Nigdy nie chciałem
Pragnę być normalny
Taki jak człowiek
Słaby, kruchy, nietrwały
Nie chcę być
Twoimi głupimi marzeniami
Niespełnionymi pragnieniami, żądzami
SOSthey sound-proofed the wallsSOS5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
we'd been communicating
through morse code again
PointlessPointlessPointless3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I looked up
Into the sky
And began to ask myself
"What if" and "why."
If life's so short,
What's the point of living?
If gifts are so worthless,
What's the point of giving?
A heart laid bare
Is so easy to shatter.
If it's so fragile,
What does it matter?
Are we all evil
At our heart
Regardless of our age
Or if we're smart?
If it's so easy to sin,
Why not just do it?
How can you say
"He really blew it"?
Go on, if you will,
And work for your bread.
But, in the end,
We're all just dead.
Facebook Stalker's Limerick"The Facebook Stalker's Limerick"Facebook Stalker's Limerick3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I love that picture you just posted, with your new style of hair.
I love that outfit you just bought, I had to stop and stare.
And your new place, the sweet new bed,
That tasty-looking veggie spread,
It looks so good, that if I could, I would go live there.
And your new job, how do you like it? Will you stay there long?
If I stopped by and just said hi, is that coming on too strong?
What if I just sent some flowers,
No name attached, so spend the hours
Wondering who admires you, pondering all night long.
If you don't know, I'll give you hints, leave some subtle clues.
I'll tag myself, "like" a pic, or make fun of your new shoes.
I'll comb your albums, read your wall,
Your status updates, I'll like them all.
Yes, I'll be there, know everything about all the things you do.
Not a single thing will I miss from my computer screen,
I'm your admirer from afar, your paramour unseen.
I see you there, on your foursquare,
I like that place, I'll see you th
Pointless MarriageOnce upon a time, in a city known as AtlantaPointless Marriage4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There lived a girl named Kimberly
Her mum was an actress and her dad a rockstar
Together, they raised this child pretty far
Their lives were filled with joy, yet sometimes they did fight
And at those times of sorrow, Kimberly couldn't sleep at night
When she turned three, it got really bad
Though she cannot remember what happened so
Her mother moved to California, and Kimberly had to go
Still very innocent, she did not understand why
Why her mother broke drown and cried
Why they had to pack up and leave
Why with her father she could not be
Mother didn't want to hurt her child
So she tried to keep the explanation mild
"Mommy and Daddy need some time apart."
But Kimberly knew the real reason deep inside her heart
They didn't love each other, at least not anymore
If that was going to be the case, what is marriage for?
Why I Write...I don't know what's wrong with me...Why I Write...4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I feel sick
I feel scared
I feel stupid
I feel hated
I feel loved
I am weak
I am strong
I am happy
I am depressed
I am missing
I am loving
I am needing...
My hands are shaking
My head is spinning
My stomach is aching
My muscles are tired
My mind is lost...
I need a hug
I need caring words
I need some attention
I need medicine
I need to write
I need to get this all out
But I don't know what I need to get out
Maybe it's the pain
Maybe it's the love
Maybe it's just the memories
The memories are sweet
The memories are painful
The memories keep me up at night
The memories make me go on with my day
I write to get the pain out
To get my feelings shown
To get the love that I wish for shown
To get the pain I wish to never curse anyone with shown
To get my stress to release
To get my happiness here
To get my pain gone
I can't think
I can't breath
I can't walk
I can't run
love's austere and lonely officesi.love's austere and lonely offices2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ronnie picks rose petals
and eats them, chews the pink to yellow
in his cigarette teeth. his sister, peggy,
asks how they taste, and he says, "good,
like whimsy and perfume," and picks three petals
fat with pigment and water; she tastes the first
and likes the second and the third is the sweet on her tongue
when ronnie dies of liver failure. she eats the reddest
blooms on his casket.
if tommy were a girl and jenny a boy,
the children would be perfect:
tommy with impish nose and nymph hands,
jenny rumbling with the rooneys from new city,
and mother frets for both their blond[e] heads.
peggy buys the twins paletas
but ronnie spends most days with grandpa.
he comes home and tells jenny they're blackfoot:
she could have been a warrior woman,
tommy a medicine man,
and mother wouldn't fret when tommy kisses jason.
ronnie is sixteen and thin.
willy is the youngest boy and clings to skirts,
plays with dolls because eva smothered him. tommy
pushes him down the stairs because jenny w
The Painter And The VeteranHe wanted to pull out the painThe Painter And The Veteran3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with a syringe, as if it were
black jelly that had accumulated
underneath his skin. This was
how morning welcomed him.
On saturday nights, he was
the kind of man who went around town
painting murals with a can. They
were gorgeous, especially when city
employees melted them with hose-water.
In America you can find dollar bills
stuck deep in the cracks between
sidewalks; you can find people stuck
deep in the cracks between
You can also find people inside
said buildings, inside beds,
and only one
night, the painter was approached
by a hairy young man with combat
boots who claimed to have fought in
Vietnam. The veteran put a grimy
paw on the painter's shoulder and
asked if he knew why airplanes
had so many windows.
The painter didn't
of them had flown
The veteran slurred with distinction that
before windows were on planes,
they were closed-off
plastic flying tubes. But,
one day every p
The Infernal Devices Fanfic: BirthJem. No one other than Brother Zachariah himself, formerly James Carstairs. The Herondales had insisted.The Infernal Devices Fanfic: Birth2 years ago in Drama More Like This
No one but him to witness the birth of their child, no one but him to put the protection on him.
He had just done his work, and was prepared to go.
Sun streamed in the great windows of the institute’s infirmary. Around one of the beds, quite a crowd had gathered: Charlotte and Henry Branwell, Charlotte standing behind Henry’s chair with her hands running soothingly over his shoulders (he was as nervous as though he were Tessa’s own father!), Cecily Herondale, and most importantly, William Herondale and Brother Zachariah. The Brother’s hood was pulled back, in order that his face might be seen. The same light filtering in from the windows caught silvery hair and eyes, making them reflect coldly, just one more sign of how different he had truly become.
Tessa lay back on the bed, a sheet pulled up over her now. Her breath still came in gasps, though they w
Such a Truth that was Never ToldSuch a Truth that was Never Told2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Such is true, yet nothing new,
That all debates should cease with compromise.
A halt has come, to the blind & dumb,
That even the sons believe their father's lies.
Truth never to be found, by the dead blood hound,
That the hunter without food, dies.
That founding father rolls in his grave, as patriots misbehave,
Dancing in the excrement that each of them buys.
Was never there a history to be told? A perfect perception to be told?
There was it warped, in none but a fools eyes....
Never again does memory remain, only to change unto disdain.
Fate walks among us, in tears and disguise.
Told were only lies by our Hermes, myths and false stories.
The cycle only carries on in repetitive disguise.
MemoriesMemories...Memories7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I remember when...
I was there
I walked these halls
I laid for rest
I ran for happiness
I fell asleep
I closed my eyes
I heard laughter
I saw joy
I remember all my memories...
And they are part of me...whether i like it or not...