Cine-i cine?Eu si tu.Cine-i cine?5 years ago in Mystery & Suspense More Like This
Tu si eu.
Ma uit la tine si parca ma vad pe mine.
Tu te uiti la mine si ai vrea sa fiu tu.
Stiu ca eu sunt faurit din tine, dar nu vreau sa recunosc asta.
M-as simti vulnerabil.
Tu esti sensibil. Foarte sensibil.
Eu nu plang in public.
Cum as putea eu sa recunosc ca eu sunt parte din tine?
Imi e frica. Acesta e secretul existentei mele:ca eu sunt tu...
Sa nu ma tradezi,te implor...caci daca faci asta, vom muri amandoi.
Ne vom muta intr-o stea.
Vom exista, intr-un fel sau altul, impreuna.
Oare cat de bine ne-am intelege tu si eu, eu si tu pentru o eternitate doar noi...?
Tu esti sincer.
Eu pretind ca sunt .
Tu ma certi,eu ma fofilez.
Iarta-ma,dar nu vreau sa mor.
Ar insemna sa te ucid pe tine.si nu pot!
Te iubesc. Tu ma iubesti? da?!? chiar daca te reneg?
Iti sunt recunoscator...
Tu... esti eu || eu sunt tu ...
Candva vom fi doar noi.
Pe o stea tacuta, intr-un univers de vise.
Burying SeptemberIf you were a person, then I'mBurying September3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
something you've forgotten; something inadvertently lost,
discarded on damp, cobblestone walkways where tattered
beggars are just lingering sympathies.
I think I now can relate to unintended loners,
the ones more enforced than observed
Lost within themselves, as I remain lost in darkness;
They without company, and I without you.
If those like you are people too,
then they are all virtual, resembling you with acute precision;
your glow, your warmth, your light,
all which bring about feelings of belonging, and correctness
Yet I find myself abutted to clinking cans lacking of change,
huddled within people-filled corners
beneath tender aches of darkness.
Forever searchingstudying, passerby upon passerby,
eyes half blind to hopeful light;
they've adjusted to comfort of night,
and shady withdrawal.
Maybe we're no longer yours to claim.
Maybe you've given us up,
like ash to the wind.
Midnight SuspensionDevour me, moonlight, within yourMidnight Suspension3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tuck me safely within shady craters,
so my eyes may then halt their steady gaze of
longing, so focused that you sometimes
smear with dribbled darkness.
Let me fly from the inside,
my toes burying themselves in light and lunar dust,
twirling as you spin your radiance below.
Grant me absentmindedness,
towards my worriesmyself.
Just rip me from my soul,
so I, too, may know the sensation of silent
UnfoundedI cram words within murky, hollow spaces,Unfounded2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
replicating ways in which blood fills a wound.
I squeeze articles and adjectives
supporting metaphors and similes
into tight-fitting corners,
until that which is empty begins to bloat.
The ache of something missing,
the loss of one internal, now painfully unknown:
it finds no satisfaction within passion
and phrases so desperately created, upheld.
Why give transparent, misleading hope
Does pleasure derive from humiliation
the catalyzing of previously weakened hearts?
Where is the limit of cruelty defined,
if not in the cries and weeping of dreams:
Language wilts on my fingertips,
turns to ash in my mouth
the gorge in my throat which partakes in
how significant is agony endured within silence,
inside pitiful thoughts?
It is nothing notable of specific emotion,
only biting veracities upon repetition
and foolish belief:
"I am no poet of words."
Habitual PatternsCircles, always circles. The juncture of an end and beginning, bringing about lightheadedness, which too becomes cycles of circles; spinning and twisting. Trapped in dizzy revolutions; a prison of the infinite, holding and containing like rope rubbing raw bruises and scars. There's no room for escape, for breath, or thought, just an oval path that lures desperate feet, slapping their shoes off pavement as they outrun themselves, but arrive nowhere.Habitual Patterns3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And I'm guilty as charged: a marathon runner motivated solely by the buzzing desperation of fear. I outrun my footsteps, my shadow and thoughts myself; I'm so sick of circles, their continuous lines of motion that stir bile and saliva. They get me nowhere nothing; just disoriented thoughts, and an overwhelming sense of vertigo.
Dare to DreamSo bravely envisioning goals within your mind,Dare to Dream4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
those same goals that slowly change to dreams,
reflected in your eyes not just the aspirations
of a creative mind,
but of a dreamer.
The smallest of smiles,
as if to seal the deal...
already so eager to reach your destination,
with butterfly wings strapped to your back
and arms outstretched to soar.
Hollowing My HeartYour fleshly homeHollowing My Heart3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I crawled right in.
Vein and artery cradled me
Within open womb;
The origin of safety and adulation.
and so I burrowed, nestled
finally accepted into your heart
and bodily corners
Where you could never
l e a v e me,
Where you would always
l o v e me.
I bound myself to you,
and became your everything.
The Maddest ConstructThe Maddest ConstructThe Maddest Construct2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Divine energy trickles grimly through the arteries,
Crackling wildly in his veins like overcharged batteries...
The power-hungry presence is a majestic hall of illusion,
But the pure aberrance inspires disgusted confusion!
The far-flung fancy of this new desire,
Shifting like the archaic Model-T,
Turns his scholarly engine into an intellectual fire,
Grasping and reaching for fuel constantly.
His living, beating scholarly heart,
Merely a crystalline orb containing fiery passion,
Yearns for companions of a similar fashion,
And waits anxiously for that joyous time to start!
For the sweet, numbing taste of camaraderie,
For any discussion, be it friendly.
Turn me on to your deviation and interest, said the Maddest Construct,
For I love to see your best, for the power of Art is hardly defunct.
-this windowpane loneliness-2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
has devoured too many stars
making love to ocean beds.
Hope in a Darkened Heart"Within the walls of concentration camps, people lived their day to day lives. Nazi officers laughed with each other over dinner each night, the commandants children worried about whether they were popular at school or not while his wife fretted about the housekeeping and the cooking, the same petty preoccupations filled their heads as ours. While, all the time, just over that fence people starved, were brutally beaten and killed, degraded and humiliated by men who went home at night to worry about whether they were putting on weight or their hairline was receding. And other people lived in the villages near these places seeing the people going in, seeing the smoke from the chimneys yet never truly seeing. Carefully blinding themselves to what was going on. It's amazing how little people see when they choose not too. How little they'll let the suffering of others effect their lives."Hope in a Darkened Heart10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She closed the textbook with an audible snap.
Somehow they both knew she wasn't just talking about the
pretty little poet fingersfabricated gods rest between thepretty little poet fingers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
languid crevices of
her fingertips, scribbling profanities
all over her skin.
she's just mismatched bones
& blue bruises, telling of forbidden
love through archaic letters.
a tongue made for
wanderlust, & eyes made
for the stars,
even the devil fears her.
To Live Is To DrownYou tell me things will be okay,To Live Is To Drown4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You tell me just to breathe,
But with my head underneath the water,
That's a little hard to conceive.
As I sink further and further,
The sunlight slips away.
I shut my eyes, accepting the fact,
That things will never change.
Countdown10 days till we dieCountdown6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
9 days till we cry
8 days till we run
7 days till we scream
6 days till we plan
5 days till we learn
4 days till we suspect
3 days till we dissapear
2 days till we laugh
1 day till we play our last game
On the Paper by My BedI don't want to be forgotten,On the Paper by My Bed3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
by the people who I have known.
I don't want to be the one who "might or could have been"
in history not yet shown.
Because I'm not there.
And of this fog with which I've been ensnared-
How to escape it, I am unaware.
For life I do not feel prepared...
And I am scared. I am scared.
Then I feel that jump in my chest
That always seems to get the best
And there's the quiet pitter-patter
That really doesn't matter,
The former's just withdrawal.
The latter means that I'm still living.
I wrote this on the paper by my bed
Where I sometimes laugh, and sigh, and weep, and sometimes wish that I was dead.
But the former's just withdrawal,
And the latter means that I'm still living.
Painted x Blue OneshotPainted x Blue Oneshot7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: I dont own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its characters.
Painted x Blue
It all started with a wish, an inner need of helping someone. To be the one who heard the prayers. So how could it have ended like this?
She was pushed to the muddy paddle on the ground. Her disguise torn apart, the red paint from her face was washed away by the pouring rain. She coughed as she tried to pull herself up with her tied hands only to be dragged on her knees facing the sneer of one of her attackers.
He was rather harmless looking, really the weaker from the two men. But fury shone in his golden eyes above a bruise on his face that was caused by her previous water whip. A failed attempt to get away.
Youre not that brave
321: Behind the Scenes321: Behind the Scenes7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
.:The contents below explain what occurred behind the scenes of the Avatar: The Last Airbender episode Avatar Aang, as the material shown in this episode does make everything quite as clear as it should be:.
Because they didn't tell you the whole story...
Hakoda wrapped his arms around his children and looked into their shining blue eyes. They sparkled in the sunlight just like Kya's did. The wind whipped Katara's long hair and softly brushed his face. He took a deep breath and embraced his children more tightly. And as the three of them stood there, the wind whipping their clothes and making them sway ever so gently, they could feel her presence and their hearts swelled with love and relief, and at last the bitter emptiness that had haunted them for so long drifted away with the wind.
Finally Hakoda gently broke the peaceful silence,
"I know your mother would be proud of you."
Katara felt tears
Bad NightYou know it's gonna be a bad night when all you can think is "It's going to get me. Oh god, it's going to get me. Somebody save me. It's going to get me." and you can feel that pressure on your chest, in your head, against your heartbeat that signals a panic attack.Bad Night1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
You know it's gonna be a bad night when you're scared to look out the windows or have the curtains cracked, and the mirrors have to be covered because god, what if it can get in that way? What if the things in the mirrors get out? Fuck, what if the thing you see in the mirror finally gets you?
You know it's gonna be a bad night when the stairs freak you out, when you want to barricade your door because the stairs freak you out. The stairs are right outside your door, and they freak you out and you don't know why but they do because it's a bad night.
You know it's going to be a bad night when it looks like there's demons hiding in your hallway, right near the railing of your stairs even though you
SwedenxReaderxFinlandSwedenxReaderxFinlandSwedenxReaderxFinland2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It was a plushie of Hanatamago. You stared down at it, a goofy grin on your face. It was too cute!!! Strange that someone would send this to you, almost like they knew that Sweden and Finland were your favorite characters.
It looked exactly like Hanatamago did in the anime, a white puffball with glittering black eyes.
But it was strangely warm, like it was alive.
Geez, talk about having a Stephen King imagination. Next thing you be thinking is that it would come alive at night and eat you.
You tossed it onto the bed, wanting to look through the packaging for a note.
You tried to toss it onto the bed. But it wouldn't budge, because it was stuck on your hand.
You shook your hand furiously, trying to dislodge the toy.
It was growing up your arm. The small toy swelled, engulfing your entire right arm up to the shoulder.
Well shit, you couldn't cut your arm off (And didn't want to) So now
Once upon a tragedyOnce upon a tragedy2 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Once upon a time I wanted to die
I would hide in my room and cry and cry
No one ever noticed and no one would ask
And if they ever did I would put on a mask
It started a few years back when they got a divorce
My parents did split with both yelling and force
I was left alone and told to go play
But how could I lie and tell them okay
I was only a child, but not anymore
The year I was four is no more
Now I am considered a beautiful young lady
But looking in the mirror I no longer see Katie
What I see is the scars left behind
From a girl once little, perfect, and kind
I fight with myself every single day
I cannot win, and my body’s gone astray
When did I start cutting? I said I never will
When did I start cursing? Or start popping pills?
I must have stopped eating or something else is wrong
Dear God please can you help me, where do I belong?
My ribs jut from my waist
And is that blood I taste?
How do they not notice? Why do they look away?
Why do I always smile and tell them I’
Opening EyesThey often sat together in the afternoons and evenings, sometimes in her room, sometimes his and more often than not in the large conservatory attached to the main building.Opening Eyes10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ororo loved it there, loved the delicious familiar warmth and having her beloved plants around her. It had always, she told him, been her private sanctum. Her place to escape too.
When he'd asked tentatively if she didn't mind that he 'd 'invaded' that sanctum she'd laughed quietly at him and pressed a burning kiss to his cheek.
Now they sat as they did on most evenings, too close together for decorum and talked in the low whispers only used by lovers and thieves.
Yet they were not what the wildfire scandal of the school rumour mill made them out to be…he had never even kissed her. Yet there were other things, other things he knew he shouldn't dwell on- the touches she would bestow on him and no one else, the way she would press his hand as she leaned in to whisper a secret from her childhood or how she took his ar
Frostbitten Fire Entry(1 year following the ending of the War...)Frostbitten Fire Entry6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Have you heard anything from anyone else yet? I haven't talked to anyone in a while, not even Aang, if you hear anything from them please tell me
Sing For MeI want to rise and fly by their sideSing For Me4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A life with no worry, spending days in the sky
Yet this heart ~ they don't know
The song sang by the little black crow
My back shall always bleed
The wings that were taken from me
I did not know the right kind of words
I can not sing like the beautiful canary birds
Nothing but a forsaken tone-deaf crow
Black feathers replace what was once white as snow
Unable to fly with these cursed black wings
Hiding in the shadows
Quietly trying to sing
I ran out of time
My song has no rhyme
A throat scratched raw from their lies
A black bird that won't fly
'Till the day she stops trying
The day she curls up to die
Night after night
I fall deeper into this pool of darkness
It's impossible to take flight
With these stones tied to my wrists
Please, sing me a song my dearest little friend
I cannot just wait for the bitter end
I long to hear your lovely voice
You are my only hope~my very last choice
Fill me with your song
For I shall not last too lo
Butterfly projectButterfly project4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I drew a butterfly on my wrist
And named it after you.
Knowing that it would soon fade
In about a day or two.
For three weeks I have waited,
For it to fly away.
Hoping that it wouldnt die
When I cut my troubles away....
But for three weeks I have been strong,
And managed without the steel.
I hope that for the butterflys sake
I find a better way to heal.