HomophobiaI'm different.Homophobia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't fit in.
I like something different...
And I keep it all in.
Pick yourself up.
You're different, yes.
But you're just as good as them.
No matter what they say...
I won't earn their respect.
Don't you see?
They hate me because I am me.
They walk all over my dreams.
I won't accomplish anything.
I won't be let in.
Thrown away like rubbish.
Just left and not let in.
You can accomplish anything.
They don't know what they say.
You are an amazing individual.
Don't let them stop you dream.
I don't know how to stand it.
All the comments and the digs.
Just stop this Homophobia.
I want to be let in...
The SketchHe loses his first kiss in autumn. He's twelve, she's just turned thirteen, and at the time he isn't sure what all the fuss is about but knows how special it is anyway.The Sketch3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She's gorgeous, pale-skin, brown hair, dark eyes always filled with happiness and joy the way he wishes he could be. She doesn't want to be there any more than he does, and they grouse to each other about how they don't need a 'special school.' It's the first time he's worked up the courage to say it.
She carries a book too, just like his sketchbook, but she says it's a diary. It's hung with a little lock on the front and he jokes about it being the key to her heart, a little boy's poor attempt at flirting but she laughs anyway. He wants to hear that laugh again, and he does, when he shyly asks if he can draw her.
It's half-way through his sketch that she leans in and presses her soft lips to his. It's a little clumsy and awkward, given how she's standing up and he's cross-legged on the ground, and nowhere as romantic l
Cold CoffeeThere’s a cold cup of coffee on the table by his hand. He can’t stop picking it up and tasting the liquid within, only for it to slide out again with his breath. The man sitting across from him wrinkles his nose at this, but won’t stop talking about the very important Paper in front of him and how everything would be so much simpler if Mr. Staden would just sign, thank you very much and enjoy the rest of your coffee without me.Cold Coffee5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mr. Staden just looks back at the man and the papers, feeling the pen that he holds loosely in his left hand. It’s heavy, but looks cheap. He scribbles it against the napkin coaster and it doesn’t leave a mark, moving it faster back and forth just tears the paper.
“This doesn’t work,” he says, and he watches as the man—the lawyer—reaches inside his bag—his briefcase, where the other Papers are—and produces another pen, this one lighter, blue ink instead of black.
“Here, try this,
Better Left Unsaid.You'll be a lawyer-Better Left Unsaid.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'll be a writer.
You'll probably make more money but-
At least we'll both be doing things we love.
And we'll live on a farm,
Just like you always wanted and...
I want to marry you-
I can't imagine myself with anyone else.
But you don't know that.
We'd both laugh if I told you.
So it's better left unsaid.
I can see us staying up late...
Watching kiddie movies and eating chocolate ice cream.
And having candle lit dates on our bedroom floor-
Taco Bell, of course.
And on winter evenings, we'll curl up on the couch...
With hot chocolate...
As I read aloud to you-
From a book of my choice, of course.
But you don't know this...
You'd think I was weird if I told you.
So it's better left unsaid.
And one day we'll pick out a huge chair.
A chair for cuddling.
And when I'm sad-
You'll hold me in our chair...
And we'll both stay real quiet,
Taking each other in.
And eventually we'll start to talk-
Quiet murmurs at first...
WashedSeems a high blunt tasteWashed2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Seems a beautiful waste
Such an elegant shade
Why is it to fade?
Ribs so grey made?
Cities blind in chase
Pictures greased to phrase
Just as the cloudy air planes that soar above
Once playful raindrops, now gloomy love
Off painted scapes they shove
Colors in history glowed childishly
Every tint of earth poured meaningfully
Eyes to see beyond what is to be seen
Textures and radiance never better then what could have been
Pinnacle in the canvas of the wind so lean
Glass works sculpted of broken diamonds too keen
Else Heaven bend to re-imagine
Feelings with no namesi.Feelings with no names2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The feeling you get the day after sending a letter, and you know there is no possible way that the recipient has received your message yet, let alone formulated time to write a reply, but you still get just a little hopeful when you hear the mailman drive by and rush out to the postbox a little too quickly and are disappointed by the pile of free coupons, bills, charity flyers, and a late Christmas card from Grandma Moses.
The noise of a faraway car driving late at night, or perhaps early in the morning, in that sleepy place somewhere between consciousness and dreaming where everything is warm and vaguely fuzzy. The remote sound of tires on asphalt speaks to a sense of curiosity – where are they going? Why so early? – but the blankets are so heavy, your eyes are so heavy, and before you can wonder anymore, the car is long gone and you are long gone, carving out a hollow place to rest in just a few hours more.
A sudden awareness that occurs during funerals that y
Hellsing: Dreams Part 2For a moment, Seras couldn't answer. Her mind went blank, her jaw slacked very slightly, and she could not look away from his intense and pained gaze. His words started to sink in, and then she looked at him, really looked at him, as if for the first time. Instead of teasing and cruelty, violence and bloodlust, his eyes just held a sorrow that cut her to the core, a wound that had never been healed properly. She wanted to suddenly embrace him, hold him, and make that look go away.Hellsing: Dreams Part 28 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
This wasn't the Master she knew.
Alucard only looked away when Seras' crimson eyes started to soften, a gently smile gracing her lips. She walked over and sat down on her knees, trying to catch his eyes again. "...So even Master has his days," She whispered, and received no reply. She didn't expect one, and just kept smiling. Instead, she rested her head against his knee, sighing softly. The sudden contact would have normally infuriated Alucard. He didn't like being touched at all very much, and his fl
This must be how Gatsby felt.The dock slats of my FacebookThis must be how Gatsby felt.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
chat list have a green light
at the end, flickering on
and on again.
That’s Internet in small
town Virginia. So close.
So far from your Midwest
hometown, the one you left
me in, stretching my arms out.
And then one fine morning –
Awake - [Destiel OneShot]Hello Dean.Awake - [Destiel OneShot]2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dean jolted awake. He was breathing heavily as he surveyed the room.
“Cas?” he asked the darkness.
There was no reply, except for the sound of Sam shifting in his sleep. Dean rested his head back on the pillow and sighed. He hadn’t seen Cas since he’d first returned from purgatory. Dean felt uneasy about the whole situation; not that he wasn’t extremely happy that Cas was back, but the whole affair seemed… dodgy. He was worried about the angel. He had a bad feeling that something bad was happening, that something was not right.
Dean shifted around in the uncomfortable hotel bed, trying to get some sleep, but with no luck. He got up and to get a glass of water, and as he leant against the sink, he prayed.
“Castiel… hey man, just… get your ass here, will you?”
A second later, there was a familiar rustle, and there the angel stood.
“Hey Cas.” Dean half-smiled.
UselessI'm a cutterUseless2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That's all I'll ever be
Once you've learnt that
Defining fact about me.
You'll call me mad
Assume that I'm sad
And that I want
You'll check my arms
Only matters if you can see
But I can hide them
All over me.
You'll think I'm sick
Sick in the head
And that makes me feel
Like I want to be dead.
I don't do it
I don't do it
For a mention
I don't do it
I do it because of
That it's cast over me.
Short Sad Destiel DrabbleAfter Castiel had gotten his memories back all the feelings he felt before came rushing with. The intense love for the freckled hunter before him and pain he had felt for betraying his trust for betraying him. Along with the hurt look that he had caused to appear on his face when he found out. It all crashed down on him, making his vessels heart twinge and squeeze in agony. And now as said hunter stood before him, something happened to him for the first time in his long life. Tears poured uncontrollably out of his once bright blue eyes, he pushed away the concerned hand that reached for him, shaking his head back and forth. No. He didn't deserve to be comforted, not after what he'd done, and especially not by the man who's heart he stole and then destroyed. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be alive, shouldn't still be able to see those beautiful green eyes or feel the strong arms that were wrapped around him. He didn't deserve any of it. But still as a strong hand gently cupped his cheekShort Sad Destiel Drabble3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Destiel is my Drug of Choice.Castiel stayed with Sam and Dean in their usual run-of-the-mill crap motel while he was human. He slept on the overly stained grey couch while the boys slept in the two queen-sized beds. It was early in morning, and the three were about to meet up with Bobby to go on a hunt. Cas had taken his tie off before he went to sleep, for it was a bit tight and kind of strangling him. Dean slept in while Sam went to grab everyone breakfast at the diner down the street. Cas woke up and just stared at the untied tie in his hand. He went over to Dean and whispered,"Dean. Dean. I don't know how to tie a tie."Destiel is my Drug of Choice.4 years ago in Sketches More Like This
Dean's glassy eyes fluttered open and he saw Cas with an absolutely helpless look on his face holding his blue tie. Dean crawled out of bed and stumbled onto his feet. Cas didn't budge, so Dean was only inches away from him.
"Cas..." Dean chuckled.
Cas cocked his head to the side and widened his brilliant blue eyes as he said,"what?"
Dean just smiled and started tying Castiel's tie.
no -- I don't know himNo no -- I don't know him3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know him
I don't know his face
the curve of his nose
the freckles that spot
I don't know him
I don't know his habits
the way he rocks to and fro
anxious and impatient
or taps his finger
tap taptap taptap
on his knee
I don't know
the touch of his hands
the rolling rhythm of his voice
against my cheek
of his goodbyes
sharper than any blade
could ever be
the way he can turn
and be gone
I promise you
I know none of it
I don't even know his name
I never did
PIXAR Retrospective - Episode #9: WALL-EPIXAR Retrospective - Episode #9: WALL-E2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
And We're Back on the PIXAR Retrospective once again with "WALL-E".
The Story? A Lonely robot named...well...WALL-E has been doing the same thing for 700 Years. Sheesh that's longer than Ralph doing the same thing every day, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Collecting things and cleaning up the earth. But, one faithful day a spaceship arrives with an egg shaped robot named EVE. After they've met and fell in love, WALL-E follows EVE into The Axiom and it's a sort of race to get this plant into this Holo-Detector or else everyone's doomed to stay in space forever.
The Story is just PIXAR at it's most creative coming off of "Ratatouille", Animation? PIXAR Animation! Characters? Memorable for years to come. I say show this one to your kids and then your grandkids.
I'd put this in the same league as "Brave" because it's heartwarming like any other PIXAR film. It was necessary to hammer the emotion on the head good enough for a reason! Despite no one having cried at this film as much as the
Why Peter is not a poet.Cole is eleven. Age matters in October, when twelve is the only difference between the haunted hayride and the shelled corn sandbox. Age matters when a boy says the word "shit" in school (and Cole does). But age doesn't matter when the same boy has both sneakers dangling over the edge of a 250-foot grain silo, his hands sweaty on the rungs, the state of Nebraska breathing vacant and honeyed and infinite below him. For the first time in his life, Cole can't be quantified by the candles on his last birthday cake. Cole is young, but today, he is worth saving. Three facts about Cole:Why Peter is not a poet.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
1. His eyebrows are the most expressive arches his body has to offer.
2. He's so terrified that his very expressive eyebrows are threatening to take up permanent residence in his hairline.
3. He does not have suicidal tendencies, and later understands--for the sake of his mother's heart and Officer Roy's bladder control--that his strategies for
The Real Monsters of the NightShe doesn't like to sleep at nightThe Real Monsters of the Night4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Because she fears that monsters live under her bed
Her daddy looks for her but doesn't see anything
Then heads back to his room and falls asleep
She lies awake fearing they are climbing into her room
She hears a spooky noise then runs screaming for her Mommy
The mother soothes her child and wraps her in a blanket
Then sets her gently back into bed
She awakes from a nightmare of a monster trying to eat her
Then runs to her parents room fearing for her life
They tell her it was just a bad dream and to go back to sleep
She walks away slowly wishing they'd understand
She cries into her pillow that night
Because there really is a monster that haunts her
It is always alert and watching
Waiting for the chance it can take her captive again
She is scared beyond belief
Because the monster is addicted to her
And will do anything to get his hands on her
Because he is a dirty minded criminal
She fears he will strike again
Yeah I'm Stupid!Yeah I'm Stupid!:Yeah I'm Stupid!2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Indeed you are absolutely superior. A divine being, more intelligent,
Learned and completely right in everything you say about me.
However, if I might be permitted to as they say in slang
"Drop the beat", then I'd like to show you my own style of doing things.
Art thou ready for this my sibling from a different parent?
Sir can I have just a moment of your time? I think I lost
My will, let me sit and bust a rhyme rappin' like I'm
Edgar Allan singin' Raven songs, thank god I have a
life and love that keeps me really strong. See I
Understand the fact that you may not like the things I do,
Structure in your brain is wrapped tight like a metal screw.
But this is what you do when you are young
I'm breaking all the rules until I finally get sung!
So pass it on over if you're done with the whiny mic,
I'd like to show the world a new style it's the Chen life;
So everyone go 'Chen boo', this all the 'Chen boo',
Security Blanket -DestielHis power was something he'd shrouded himself in for a long time.Security Blanket -Destiel2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He'd use it as a blanket, to protect himself from the outside world. Or maybe to protect
the outside world from him..
He didn't know anymore.
The point was, he'd has his powers for a very long time and they were almost like a safety net to him now.
Whenever he was having a rough time -like when Anael disobeyed- he'd find a quiet place to just sit and feel his power was over him.
It made him feel invincible.
Of course, he was anything but.
He may've been an angel but he knew that even he had his limits, despite not being sent to Earth for over 2000 years he knew there were still dangers there.
So of course when he was sent to collect Dean Winchester from Hell he was cautious. He led the attack and shouted orders and his subordinates while at the same time he tried to keep his voice from wavering.
And then, everything changed.
When they reached Dean Winchester and Castiel saw his fractured yet beautiful soul, everything be
Strangely Fulfilling, Like Rabbit HeartsI was a hawk,Strangely Fulfilling, Like Rabbit Hearts2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a sweeping, broom-winged raptor;
a scent of violent and raw hearts on the air
eating my fill of rabbits—
brown and copper-breath’d,
witch of the western woods
sipping my hemlock-spiked tea.
I distrusted words like “always”—
something about the way the mouth falls open,
the throat muscles that clench, chicken-necked.
Fragility has its dark side,
a biding time, like Snow White
I wonder if you smelled me,
smelled the challenge on my dustland sighs.
I know I could smell the thief on you.
You came from my own forest,
a sleek and curly-haired monster
indigo and antler’d.
You said you hated always, too,
and we smiled our fanged smiles
and readied our claws for the weaknesses we’d found.
So imagine my surprise when
you said the always word yourself—
when I saw your Loki-tongue,
cynical in every tastebud,
rest soft and pink as rabbit innards
against the teeth of your open mouth,
gentle and hoping.
I would not beli