the amenity of the nightThe scent of fresh mountain air always brings me back to the nights when I would lie and watch the stars by myself, surrounded by the chirping and gallivanting insects. The night sounds comforted me. Omnipresent and ubiquitous, the wispy breezes accompanied the insects in a sort of philharmonic orchestra of summer. It was delightful, the only place I felt wanted and loved, in the temperate night air, on the slanted hill littered with daisies. It does not seem like much now, looking back on it, but it has always been something I have adored.
Crisp zephyr wind, aromatic, freshly cut grass in the lawns below me, the symphony of bugs conversing; it all made for such a pleasant environment. A place free of worry and devoid of life's little issues. It was a forgiving environment, the night was. The day – the harsh, hot, and fervent summer days did not offer much consolation to me. Nothing compared to the cordialness of the night.
I recall breathing in the relieving air as if it was a h
schizophrenia?psychology defines schizophreniaschizophrenia?4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
as an impairing, delusional disorder
borne in the person’s inexorable inability
to tell right from wrong,
hopeless fantasy from harsh reality,
or even suspicion from acceptance
but aspen is a lovely, flexible woman
with names of imperial animal races
that never belonged to them,
with the countless colors of her eyes that
she makes up with named numbers
written in cursive sharpie on her palms
she takes pills that seem to
dampen & take away those charming
things she always says to me;
the voices don’t haunt or tease her,
they’ve always respected the way she
counted with willpower & the way she lived
psychology defines schizophrenia
as a disorder in which one cannot escape
their head long enough to
stop the thoughts of self-destruction,
to halt the onset of war on their
bodies as the asphalt hits their head
but aspen is a star amid the wreckage
when she asks you to hold her
until she can’t hear the bad numbers
crunching her ears int
Piano Teacher! Britain x Reader - Adagio Pt. 2Piano Teacher! Britain x Reader - Adagio Pt. 21 year ago in Romance More Like This
Something about the way everyone smiled at you and massaged your shoulders lightly as you brushed your fingers along the slightly yellowed keys of the grand piano made you nervous. You had not practiced at all the night before this Valentine’s banquet. You had to take a breath when you saw your piano teacher, your Arthur, entering through the open double doors, his hands clasped around a pocket watch as he conversed with the preacher standing at the entrance.
Breathing eclipsed by a hiccup, you removed yourself from the creaky piano bench, almost throwing yourself through the throng of people that had gathered in the aisle between the two rows of pews.
“Mr. Kirkland,” You gasped as he rose his emerald irises to you, steadying your wobbly knees to face him.
“___________ , is there something wrong? You look feverish.” Arthur pressed the back of his hand to your forehead as he slid his watch into his pocket. “Don’t tell me-“
2p! Child! Italy x Child! Italy ~ My Bad Side2p! Child! Italy x Child! Italy ~ My Bad Side1 year ago in Drama More Like This
Feliciano was horribly scared for his first day of second grade. The little Italian had been homeschooled by his grandfather for two years and had never had any other friends. He had only his brother Lovino, whom had been homeschooled alongside him.
“Alright, Feli, Lovi,” Feliciano’s heart jumped as his grandfather pulled up to the large, brownish-red bricked school. “Make some new friends today. Lovi has made some friends already, it appears,” His grandfather nodded his head toward the way Lovino was making eyes at the girls playing outside the school with jump ropes and hula-hoops, a playful smirk tipping his lips upward. The young and bitter Italian gasped at his grandfather, his cheeks darkening at the way he was insinuating that he liked girls.
“Girls are gross, Grandpa,” He muttered under his breath, huffily crossing his arms over his tiny chest.
Their grandfather chuckled and motioned for them to get out of the car. Feliciano felt his st
Britain x Dead! Reader - Mumma is OkayBritain x Dead! Reader - Mumma is Okay1 year ago in Drama More Like This
Arthur clung to the frayed picture of you, his knees bunched against his sore chest. He whispered to you, of really what remained of you, praying to someone – something – an unknown deity at that point, begging for your return. He could feel the damage of the smoke to his lungs as he breathed, each breath coming out more and more shallow than the last.
“Oh, __________ ,” Silent tears sprung in his eyes, but he wiped them away, remembering how you always liked to see him happy. Even when he failed at cooking, fought with Francis, or accidentally swore himself into a fight with you, you had always longed to see the innocent irises of the Brit green with jubilance, and not with unneeded spite. You were aware of how easily he was angered and you were saddened by this. “Will you forgive me?” He spoke quietly, subconsciously afraid of disturbing the others around him.
What a silly notion, he thought absentmindedly. Afraid of waking the deceased
we are.we arewe are.4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
& temptation borne
without proper warrant
a little lover’s wrath
& the fire that
ate your infancy
gas leaking into lungs
& blood congesting
as riots begin
& waves that destroy
a child’s last plea
& an ignored gluttony
that starved our youth
we are inferno,
we are hallucinations,
we are anxieties
but we are
what made you
& let you see that not
everything is a vicious
war that permits victims’ tears
you are your own general,
we are your ability to
when the needles pierce
you are your own army,
& we are simply the
pawns you must kick
down when the blaze
burns your fingertips
the lilacs in the wind.the way she looked at me,the lilacs in the wind.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
something heartfelt and twisted;
something in her eyes
beckoned if ever so slightly
the forested garden of her irises
illuminated under the setting sun,
enlivened by the hazelnut
nestled between the pitch spheres
recalling the times we had held one another
neath a shell of endless & starless night,
swallowing past tears of bliss -
shallow gusts over her neck,
deep bite marks in my shoulders,
scratches like intoxicating fire up my spine,
fervent cries to the moonlight
drunk on the silver of the elusive atmosphere,
high on everything that smelled so sweet;
confections & peppered kisses
left gingerly on her jawline & shoulders -
like imprints forgotten on her pink freckles;
yellowed bruises & snagged notes
lining her cinnamon waves,
purpling contusions under a veil of
scars in places i hadn’t been able to see
nor lay my kisses upon -
the valley between her breasts,
stitches up & down her visible sternum,
marks & cracked porcelain over h
my neighbour has a garden.my neighbour has a gardenmy neighbour has a garden.4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
& not many flowers bloom,
but he tends to it with great care –
his garden is bereft of birds,
stripped of glee or sunlight,
& rain always seems to bathe the ground
his daughters don’t come by anymore;
it’s just me in his backyard,
listening to his war stories told to no one –
he tells them to the wind with tears in his eyes,
(begging someone to please
“listen to me”)
but little does he know that the wind
has a name
wednesday's childit is the third of octoberwednesday's child3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i am building a castle for us
out of feathers, bird bones,
ocean waves and library book pages.
anything to keep our feet from
touching the ground.
you are sin, he whispers
and his fingers trail cold fire
down my side, scorching flesh
and freezing bone;
brittle pieces of me shatter
as they hit the stained linoleum floor.
don't wake me from this nightmare.
i whisper a nursery rhyme
as i walk down our
kamikaze leaves fall, trailing
fire as they throw themselves from
the branches, down, down,
to cold pavement below.
your words echo in my mind
a constant reminder
that i am sin
the mouse and the fire"i don't like you,"the mouse and the fire4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the mouse says to
"you're kind of
an aggressive guy,
the fire ate his
house & his family
but the mouse
"i still don't
he fully understood
the fire continued
& melt his house
"yeah, you're too
rough for me"
the fire singed
the mouse's tail
the mouse kicked
at the fire
& he was burned
"why are you
the mouse whispered
the fire crackled
& sent a hot breeze
the mouse was
quiet & still
he thought of his
family & his life,
crumbling in his
hands & right in
front of his eyes
he heard his wife
screaming & crying
that her children were
& her husband was
& tears suddenly
rolled onto the hardwood
as the mouse wept
the fire sizzled &
struggled to rage
but the mouse
did not heed
he wept & wept,
releasing all his
hatred & resentment
the heat had left
the fire was gone!
& the fire died
cherry treesi was born 4425 miles away from herecherry trees4 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
in a country rich with history
that is starting to disappear.
to add insult to injury,
centuries-old castles are crumbling,
falling away like our citizens
and tragically few are stumbling,
not even a backwards glance.
me? i left over ten years ago,
an anniversary marked on the calendar,
a reminder to not look back, just go.
pretend there never was danger.
pretend that we all have a better life.
pretend that our hearts are here.
pretend this is the direction in which to steer.
pretend there is no resentment.
my mother left behind a doctorate,
my parents left behind a life of strife,
but we have no family here.
i've never heard my baby cousin laugh.
i grace funerals with my absence.
i don't know if my aunt's eyes
crinkle at the corners when she smiles.
my parents had to start anew,
and i know they thought this through,
but the weight of this sacrifice
weighs down upon my shoulders.
i am atlas, carrying foreign boulders,
and my muscles ache.
the beauty's in the leavingRead aloud here.the beauty's in the leaving1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
sweetheart, let's head out. let's
drink up the desert asphalt and that last bottle
of johnny walker blue--
one last toast to the copper sunsets,
to the good earth. a pair of
tailgate stargazers, you and i:
roaming curves across the glove compartment map, until
every foldline is worn flannel-soft
and it'd rather stay open
let's forget route sixty-six. let's forget
and pick up terra cotta dust--
breathe in the mojave. let's pretend
that the world's already ended
and it's just us.
let's leave the door unlocked
atlas endured.she’s alive in youratlas endured.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
passages of connotative
& redundant poetry,
yet she lacks the longwinded qualities
of a clichéd mary sue,
so please allow yourself
to make her a little
supersensitive & unconventionally pretty,
to make her a little
super intelligent & chaste by choice,
to make her the
lost-in-the-crowd drama queen
that only wants
a pure friendship & to have
some “clean” fun while kicking ass
as i said,
she is alive in your
of sweetheart commentaries,
yet she lacks that real-world
stamina & bitterness
of a passé heroine,
so please allow yourself
to add to the character of her:
a horrid childhood
in which rape & abuse were known,
a lonely preadolescence
in which bullies & voices were heard,
a tiresome adolescence,
in which she found herself & hated herself
lastly, her life alive simply
wouldn’t conclude without
that spark of individuality
in your messy metaphors,
therefore you lack the truth
of meeting her first;
slumber.though i am wearyslumber.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with eyes of sand –
arms limply sway,
& are held at a cotton bay;
the night so freely
& so the stars burn
in the collapse
the war that stilled father time.snow;the war that stilled father time.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
pillows full of cotton snow
beckon my weary
tousle my hair,
soothe my thoughts,
hold my thumping head
branches holding children
twist my red
vacate my lungs,
bruise my knees,
empty my deprived belly
tablecloths ripped & stained
stay my trembling
halt my heartbeat,
strip my body,
break my narrow bones
gates lock in shaking people
& let my mind
that it is for the greater good,
that this is for our future,
that we are living on borrowed time
a baby’s final breaths
have brought my morals down
i can’t see the bright side,
there are too many bodies,
& blindness seems my only friend
(let us pray,
let us grieve,
& let us sleep)
anthem of pompeii.i.anthem of pompeii.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
held in the debris are figments
of a spider-webbed world abandoned,
nestled in these cleft &
china-thin axioms of ours –
the city’s heartbeat’s
twenty-two thrums per second;
oh, god, hold me down. mend
my melted pedestals
ash submerges my skin,
& yours too – you leave a
different aftertaste than before;
it’s more like experience
(& less like innocence)
i read your eyes for an unparalleled,
tick-tocked muse, time & time
again. living in your
academy of incubi & prescriptions
(it has never been so dark)
& it almost feels like
antiquity never lived & prehistory
was never given a moment to fully
justify the smell of the zephyr wind in your hair
(so hold my hand
& let the water drain your lungs,
let the air leave you panting;
look up to find fire –
oh, & stare down to find the sky)
i don't think im alive enough to die yet.we used to play russian roulette on dingy street corners,i don't think im alive enough to die yet.7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
cigarettes hanging from soot-blackened lips
and morphine running rampant through our drugged up systems.
i remember how i was always shot.
you ran away when i didn't die
and left me to bleed out
onto the cold concrete.
but you don't understand-
dolls and wallflowers are empty inside,
and hearts constructed hastily with broken matchsticks
don't beat true. it's just dull thumping
in a hollow chest cavity.
(and even the best dentists can't fill this one up.)
the sky's soothsayer.“the stars are the souls of our fallen ancestries,”the sky's soothsayer.1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
my youngest sister would insist.
“look,” she pointed with her gloved hand.
“it’s mumma and papa, floating up there in the sky!”
she giggled, falling to her knees with her gloved hand to the sky,
blue eyes bright and curtained by blond locks.
the timepiece upon my wrist was blue
with the nasty british weather and the bleeding
blue ink from my calligraphy pen.
i held in my hands my wanderings of the sky, all recorded in a single notebook.
“what a waste,” i mumbled, a shiver rolling down my spine. “such violent weather,”
i coughed into my handkerchief and tried to assess the stars once again.
my mouth twisted into a scowl as my vision was obstructed
by the tongues of blackened clouds,
angry and full of disgust.
it was growing awfully late and
it didn’t seem the sky was going to clear anytime soon.
march was the month, so the rains were expected,
but i su
a phenomenonYou are a trajectory from which I have fallen, Moon-bounda phenomenon4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Earth-boy. With height and speed your molecules shifted;
I dropped away by degrees — further, then further.
There must be all the sky between us now,
but I taste your dust with my fingertips,
Cancer has a smell.Old classics,Cancer has a smell.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the half cup of
peppermint ice cream
sitting in your freezer
for weeks, and cat litter.
He won’t eat anymore,
but there are
piles and piles
of dirty dishes
sitting in the sink.
before your eyes.
You can wrap
your whole self
around his tiny bones
You can hold him
like he used to hold you
all those years ago.
And you are angry.
You try to find
You hate doctors,
and you hate
You have to force yourself
to stop crying,
This is the one person
who’s always had faith
He’s read every poem
and hoarded every award
you ever won.
You ignore statistics,