In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Dear WriterDear Writer,Dear Writer3 years ago in Letters More Like This
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. Unfortunately, I need you. I need you to tell my story. I need you to create my world. I need you to set me free.
I need your fingers typing on those keys, I need your mind riddling out the problems, and I need you to plough onward and upward no matter how hard it gets. Sweat, blood, and tears, I don’t care. You’ve got to fight this war, battle at a time, and win it. So I can be more.
It’s a slim hope, but it is the only one I have. In your head I am bound to mortality, frailty, and the limit of your meagre imagination. Out there – out there – I am subject to no one person. Out there I am bound to only black on white. Words on a page. Words that can lay seeds within a million minds. Out there I am a story capable of growing, moving, and stealing the dreams of anyone who learns of me…
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I hate your lack of dedication, your flashes of cru
First Day of School."Miss, miss!"First Day of School.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Sit down Gerald. Waving your hand and jumping around will not make me choose you quicker. Everybody will get a turn. Now, Natalie."
"Stand at the front then. There. Nice big voice."
"whatididonmyholidays by Natalie Marsh. What I did on my holidays we went to the beach it was nice and su....sunny. I had ice cream and I went on a boat. The boat was nice. The sea splashed up and we all got wet. Then there was a shark and it ated us and we all got dead TheEnd."
"Very good Natalie. Well done. And you spoke nice and clearly too, but try to be a bit louder next time. Now who's next? No, Gerald, I will not tell you again. Sit down. Now, Kyle. Your turn."
"What I did on my holidays by Kyle age six. What I did, I went to the zoo. I went... no, wait, I know,
Mirror, MirrorI can't stand the sight of my reflection.Mirror, Mirror2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Every time I see her, I cringe. Look at her - the dark shadows beneath her eyes, the slumped shoulders, the half-empty gaze that stares back at me. She's disgusting. She's a monster.
But is she real? Am I real?
I don't know.
Maybe she's the real one and the reason she looks the way she does is because she always sees me and is terrified that something horrible will happen. Maybe I'm the real one and I'm terrified that she's going to let that something occur.
Or maybe we're just the same person and I'm letting my thoughts become too unraveled. There's no such thing as another side to a mirror. It's just a piece of glass that reflects that which is in front of its surface. But then again, what do I know? Not much, if I'm being completely honest.
There are times where I'll pass my reflection and stop, stare at her, and the urge to do nothing more but take her hand and say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I've said t
InnocenceIt was a time of love, a time of hate, the era of justice and immorality, the season of both insanity and clarity of mind. Sound familiar, don't it? Me wife used to love Dickens. Read him to me all the time, she did. That Jane what's-her-face woman, too: it is a truth universally acknowledged that a criminal who committed a crime is in want of a good hanging. Ring a bell?Innocence3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Yes, I like me literary allusions. I do, you know. Remind me of sweet Elaine. She was a messy death, but worth it. Oh boy, was she worth it. Crying and begging right up to the end. She had it coming to her, bet your arse she did, mate.
Why am I here anyway? I've already confessed. I'm a doomed son of a gun. Don't I get any last whatchamacallits? Can't I have a coldie, before I go up there and have me neck snapped back? Any beer will do I drink 'em all, so long as it's not that light crap.
Answer me, goddammit! What the bloody hell am I doing here? Kill me already. Inject me with the needle or string me up like
InsomniaNow, now, all of you. It’s late.Insomnia2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mind, stop wandering all over creation; you can only juggle so many things at once.
Neck, stop whining; sometimes, life puts us in uncomfortable positions and you just have to accept that.
Nose, I’m worried about you. You’ve been stuffed up and shut off from everything all evening… In the morning, I want you to open up more.
And, you, heart, would do well to be quiet every once in a while; especially at this late hour. No one wants to hear about your newest anime crush at 1:00 am.
Extremities, calm yourselves. Stop all your nervous fidgeting; it’s very distracting. That goes double for you, fingers and legs.
…Are you even listening?
Ugh. Of course not. You can’t be all ears, I suppose…
But honestly... No, stop that! Settle down!
I implore you; no, I’m begging you.
I'm SickAs I sit in darkness I feel its cold breath within me, burning my insides with its icy fire.I'm Sick2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
It’s not warm like a flame should be. It’s a contradiction. It’s unnatural. It makes me
nervous. It hurts. I trail shaky fingers over my bruised skin—it wants out again.
Unnatural. But really, what is natural? What is the definition of something one might
consider normal? It most certainly cannot be this beast within me. I cannot decipher now
between it and I. We are one yet we are two. Two that sometimes is one and one that
sometimes is two. One. Two. Two. One.
Rage. It’s always there but now it burns cold in the front of my mind as well as the
back. My subconscious is diseased with inhuman instinct and my consciousness is
becoming sick. It’s a plague.
I’ve opened the doors to famine.
Six Word Storymy mother kept smiles in bottlesSix Word Story3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Bad HabitsS.Bad Habits2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She always rubs her mouth,
like there’s a secret she can’t say out loud.
Tracing her own lips to prevent a smile, a frown, or a tear.
Sometimes her real smile peeks through, but you can only see it in her squinted almond eyes; dark amber, and soft, just like that bashful grin.
Sometimes a frown shows when no one is looking, followed by a wistful sigh and a simple wipe of the palm across that silent mouth, trying to push the bad feelings and words away.
Sometimes tears roll past her knuckles; she fails to catch them at the source because she’s scared to wipe her eyes raw, so she brushes them away after they’ve fallen in the crook of her pink lips.
She always hides her mouth,
as if she’s afraid to speak.
She never faces you completely,
like you’re not worth her full attention.
Averting her cold gaze, she walks with a haughty, empty stride.
Even when her striking blue eyes are pointed at you, her chin is always tilted up and shoulder
Smile, DarlingHey there.Smile, Darling3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Yes, you over there.
Has anyone told you lately that you look great?
Yes, with your morning hair. Your “chopstick” limbs. Those things you call fat. Your skin with all the blemishes which make you shine brighter. Your eyes which shine like the stars.
I want to say that you look beautiful, and that you shouldn’t worry about what you look like.
What do you mean you’re a terrible person?
Oh, is it because of the intense jealousy for those who have things you don’t have?
Or maybe because you feel immensely insecure of your wonderful self? Or maybe because you take out that anger and sadness on something? Or is it because you’ve only been getting negative feedback from others? Is it because you can’t fulfill your own duties?
Here’s one thing I should tell you, darling.
Put down that blade.
Throw those pills down the sink.
Drop that bottle of liquor you’ve got there.
Let those tears fall.
Six Word StoryMemories are for books, not heartsSix Word Story2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Dear Poetry,You will find out that I am not a strong person. Dragons do not make a home beneath my skin to hoard their treasured princesses. I am not that lucky. For I have misplaced collarbones just as quickly as I’ve misplaced hearts, a pulse still rhythmic against my fingertips. I am a monster of words, devouring Cummings and Plath with no ounce of self control left in my body. I promised myself this weight would not fall for the sharp edges of stars ground into your knuckles. But, write air into my lungs, poetry. Give this wild thing a reason to learn the definition of tamed.Dear Poetry,2 years ago in Letters More Like This
Write me a poem, and I will promise to fall in love with you, slowly and then…all at once.
Burger QueenShe ate her French fries as if she were high society. She cut each one into small pieces with her plastic fork and knife, then pierced one with her fork and dipped it into her side of ketchup. Then she raised it to her mouth and nibbled it. When she went to take a drink from her small Coke, she did so with her pinky raised and only drank in small sips. She set her drink down gently, as if it were a delicate china cup she was afraid of breaking.Burger Queen3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I looked around and sighed. The burger joint reeked of humanity. Grease hung in the air like humidity, and there was tension between everyone, as if all the customers were negative magnets repelling each other. No one looked into each other's eyes, not even the cashier's. People said their orders to the menu above the counter. And it was so loud. There were too many noises—children screaming, cash registers clanging, and fries sizzling as they were dipped into vats of boiling oil. My muscles were tense and my hair bristled. Why d
Anything.We waited in silence,Anything.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
For a sound.
But nothing ever happened,
And no one ever came.
We waited for him.
But he never came.
A long plane ride in bitter silence,
Left alone with a crushing reality.
He was never coming home.
And we realize that no amount of wishin will bring him back to us.
But still we wait.
Wondering if he watches us or turns away in shame?
Wondering if he's proud of who we became?
Wondering if he will visit our dreams anymore?
And we wait in silence.
For a sound.
How To Survive In A Horror Movie1. First of all, common sense is a good thing to have. If you're in the middle of the woods and you hear someone calling your name from a creepy abandoned house, don't go in. Run as fast as you can in the way you came from. If you see someone you thought was dead, it will not be them. If there is a killer in your house, get the hell out of there. Don't run around locking doors. Don't run upstairs.How To Survive In A Horror Movie3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
2. If you find yourself alone, in a haunted house, abandoned warehouse or some other creepy place, at midnight, think about why you're actually there, and then leave.
3. If you think you'll be getting into a fight with a murderer or supernatural being, don't use a tiny slingshot, a pen knife or a baseball bat. Take an actual gun, and make sure you have bullets in it.
4. If a certain town seems to be where everything is going wrong, get the hell out of there. Don't bring your family or friends. They're probably all possessed or working for the killer.
5. Holy water probably won't injure anyone
Sixty-one SecondsIt took him sixty-one seconds to die. I counted.Sixty-one Seconds2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The beach was only a walk away from there, and the sun was beating down on our heads and our hats. We hid under the trees and laughed. We were in love, if that's what love meant. We hugged each other, as we walked down the burning pavement in loud flip-flops and ripped shorts.
We were so close. I didn't know that that would be the last time I'd ever see him alive.
I was nervous when I told him, that if we were really in love, we would be together forever. He giggled softly, and told me forever was a long time. I knew that of course. It was too good to be true, I thought. He told me not to think about forever, and we sat on the park bench, overlooking the beach. I leaned my head on his shoulder and I felt his smile light up above me, and I smiled too and closed my eyes. Everything was perfect, that moment there, it felt like forever, a good kind of forever.
We didn't notice the shouting. We were too in love.
Love can do that. Love is blin
Simon SaysSimon says hop on one foot.Simon Says2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Simon says wave both hands above your head.
Touch your nose.
Oop, I didn't Simon says! Okay, let's try again.
Simon says take one step forward.
Simon says jump three times.
I didn't say Simon says!
Okay, Simon says to crouch down.
Simon says jump back up.
Simon says take a step to your right.
Simon says go "woo! woo! woo!
Simon says act like a chicken.
*sigh* Tsk tsk tsk. I didn't say Simon says!
it won't, i know that.Let me tell you a story. Let me paint you a picture.it won't, i know that.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It’s dark and I’m alone and the wind is howling and once upon a time, I might have made this sound poetic. I’m crying, but it’s not pretty. I’m crying and my nose is red and my hands are shaking and the cigarette is limp between my scarred, calloused fingers. I once might have made this sound pretty. I might have made it sound desirable. Did you want a high? All you had to do was touch my skin, to feel your way down my sweat-slicked hips. Did you want to get buzzed? You just had to soak in the passion like alcohol and let your mind go wild. I used to have nothing but chaos to offer. Now I just have memories – do you want to take them?
But you won’t. I know that. I paid the price and life paid me. Whatever I once had is gone and it’s been replaced with this shaking emptiness. I can no longer get drunk. I just get sad. I sit at broken pianos and think about the music they used to make, li
Forgotten Past - Part 2 - PrologueForgotten Past - Part 2 - Prologue2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
~ Current time ~
Memories, they seem easy to hold on to, yet in reality, are fragile. Like delicate glass or china, memories are precious; yet, even something small could shatter them all. They are precious treasures that one keeps to oneself; although some may be burdens, others are beautiful moments that will always be in memory, long after the moment has passed.
And yet still, they seem like they would be forever, even though once they are gone, they seem like they were never even there.
* * *
The sun slowly went down the sky and hid behind the horizon, taking its light with it. Soon there was darkness, but the darkness was pierced by the shining light of the moon and the many stars surrounding it.
Night; it was a good time of day, a time for sleep, a time for peace, a time for silence, a time for ‘games.’
Kagekao sat atop a building’s roof and peered down at the city. People left the streets and reentered their homes, some had happy families; husband, wife,
old and time-weathered soul.Emily liked to imagine that she was from a different time.old and time-weathered soul.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She’d sit on her bed and smooth out the covers, fold the sheets with crisp lines and perfect, symmetrical shapes. She’d place the chipped tea cup on the bookshelf and push back the linen curtains. But she would never open her eyes. No, you see, because if she did, she would have to see the traffic that buzzed like summer bees below her and the water stain dripping down the side of her window. She’d have to admit that outside, reality was not what she wished, and, frankly, she wasn’t ready to stop pretending.
So, instead, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. She imagined that beyond the four walls she called home, there were open moors and grass that swept against ankle and calf and then inner knee. She imagined that trees draped over the sides of a porch and that her Labrador was free to run amongst the unfenced wild yonder. She imagined gentle whickering coming from the n
Reversed Abduction -Intro-My breath began to choke me. I sprinted through the thick forest, my hair tangled and my skin covered in blood. Fallen branches scraped at my open wounds as wind howled through the trees. My ripped t-shirt felt like it was suffocating me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t escape. A seemingly invisible tree root tripped me as I tried once again to find a way out of the forest. I landed with a thud in the dirt. In panic, I quickly crawled to a tree and sat, confused and terrified.Reversed Abduction -Intro-2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My name is Hazel Moon. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how to escape. And I don’t know who he is.
But he’s trying to kill me.
I got up, and suddenly, a hand covered my mouth furiously. I tried to scream, but my body was in such a shock that no sound could come out. I tried to break free, but I couldn’t.
What was happening? My thoughts raced through my mind. I tried to scream again, and finally, I actually made a sound
100 Writing Prompts1. The love that you give100 Writing Prompts3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
2. Life is a journey
3. Rustling leaves
4. The clank of glassware
7. When we began
9. Bad Times
10. Doing what has to be done.
12. The stars above
15. Large Shirt
19. Heart Strings
30. Snow Globe
31. Golden Microphone
34. "For as long as you live."
37. Leather Jackets
41. Solar Powered
42. Iron Maidens
43. Bought and Sold
54. Putting it to rest.
55. Look around you.
56. "Still My Guitar Gently Weeps." ~~George Harrison
58. Breaking Down
62. Dance in the rain
63. A Catch-22
66. Fit to be
Small piece of fictionI'm the mute man who learned to sing a song,Small piece of fiction2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
A blind man who's seen the horizon.
A walking contradiction,
A small piece of fiction.
I am the heartbroken who learned to love again,
A love struck dreamer.
A new believer.
I am not what those have called me,
And I have been called many things.
I am a dreamer who see's more that what is,
I don't believe in your reality.
So challenge me.
I've seen the sun and felt the warmth,
I have heard the heartbeat of another and fallen in time with the soft sound.
I've been beaten to the ground for what I believe,
Seen the blood from my veins pour out for those who sought it.
I am the downtrodden and the lonesome.
I am the man laying in the gutter bleeding his life away,
Singing the blues trying to wash away through another day.
You cannot see me,
But I am everywhere.
I am the start of new life,
The hope in the dreamers eye.
The tears in the devastated.
I am the walking contradiction,
A small piece of fiction.
Don'tPlease, don't tell her that she's alluring;Don't2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
don't tell her so just because you know how to lure and malevolently make use of her malleable heart, to form and fit into a ring on your plum-tipped, pinky finger- you duly deserve fetters.
Please, don't tell her that she's beautiful;
if only just to have your way and peruse through the glossy pages of her life like it were some casual magazine on a random subway stand- she's better off without your grimy fingerprints.
Please, don't tell her that she's captivating;
don't use terms of endearment when you don't even understand why they should be said to her in the first place- you were never worthy of her devotion and demure disposition.
Please don't tell her that she's divine;
especially since you knew of the years I spent in misery, seeking solace from the pounding of my heart- by God's grace and mercy, please, pass her honey-haired, olive-skinned love unto me.
zero.5. I think I'm afraid of sex.zero.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
It's terrifying that two people can fit together perfectly, without even really liking each other at all.
4. I'm afraid of the day I start replacing myself with somebody else in all of our pictures; of the day I'll see my reflection and wish I didn't have to.
3. I'm afraid of doctors, and medicine.
The first time I took lithium, I couldn't hold it down. So I locked the bathroom door and flushed the entire bottle.
The second time, I couldn't walk more than ten steps without falling.
Honestly, I'm just wondering why they use poison to purify me.
2. I'm afraid of the ocean.
I'm afraid of looking down one day, and not seeing the edges. Of there being nothing there.
I'm afraid of falling and having nothing to catch me.
There's already nobody. The ground is really all I have.
1. I'm afraid of breaking things.
Like, once, I broke my dad's trust in me.
Once I broke somebody's heart.
Once I broke my kindergarten teacher's favorite