Sweat, Spice, and ScarsYour eyes,Sweat, Spice, and Scars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a thunderstorm of black and blue sex
jarring and devouring my insides,
shaped a faithless religion
through the cracks & broken shards
of my hollowed out womb.
I want my insides back.
WhitewashI am buying some teaWhitewash2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a glass bottle
on a college campus.
Nobody is here after
7pm, not even the
Everyone wants to
get in their cars
and find home.
lots of waiting.
An old friend passes me
on the stairs.
We make jokes
Hell is a quiet place.
The silver token bottle cap
MaybeJust give me one dream that isn't see-through.Maybe2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One substantiated claim to reality,
that I might hold onto life with.
Every quivering cell, mid-osmosis, begs you
for a shred of dignity with my tea.
Just one chance for something heavy,
something hard and room temperature. Real.
I don't want to look through my day dreams
and see someone else's face there.
I don't want to dream of those people
who may make, or break me, in the future tense.
I am tired of milky white and reflective black.
It is time for a life of colour and hope -
and not looking back to see if the past
matches up with the jigsaw map to the end game.
I want to be in the game, participating,
feeling, like I might make it there one day.
Just give me something, that I can hold onto;
something harder to see through than a whisper
of that voice in the back of my mind that says
STALKERYou cannot run from your past...STALKER5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
No strangled whisper,
No repentant plea of yours can escape these eyes.
For I have always been watching...
You believe yourself to be righteous,
But your actions have consequences!
You will not leave this place tonight,
Not while your heart remains beating.
And when you are worn from your escape;
When you are forced by exhaustion,
To shut those fevered eyes.
In your moment of weakness, I will arrive...
Justice will be served tonight,
Whilst the shadows dance with expectant glee!
You may forget what you have done,
But you will never be innocent...
NonexistenceI pray to a God I have never seen,Nonexistence6 years ago in Open More Like This
who lives in a world that has never been,
to save my heart that has never felt,
from eternity's failures, eternity's guilt.
My feet step on grounds no men stepped before,
my lips taste the poison, bitter and sore,
yet it does not kill me,
does that mean,
that I am immortal,
or that I've never been?
I pray to a God that may not exist,
while the iron shackle tears up my wrist,
to tell me the difference of being and not,
to show me the memories that I forgot.
My mind flies to places nobody has reached,
to learn that the stars are nothing but bleached,
spots on the dark, they're not even light,
I think that's 'cause real light brings nothing but fright:
It's bound to discover
all crimes, neatly covered.
I pray to a God because maybe he is,
unlike me and the world,
in them I miss
something to reach.
TW - Hell Hath No FuryShe groaned and cried out as the contraction reached it's peak and then began to fade. Sokka hovered nearby, trying to remember what Katara had said to do and what not to do. Toph panted and leaned back for a moment as Katara offered some encouragement.TW - Hell Hath No Fury5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Let me get some water" Sokka offered, turning towards the pitcher on the other wall. Toph's hand shot out and clamped onto his shirt, narrowly missing a much more painful grab for the anxious father.
"You're not going anywhere!" She spat, preparing herself for another contraction.
"Keep going Toph, you're getting close!" Katara said, her voice pitched high with excitement. A chortle of matching pitch floated in from the hallway, where Aang was amusing his one year old daughter. Patika's laughter was soon drowned out by Toph as another contraction built up steam.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Her hand tightened and twisted his shirt as she obeyed the urge to push. Her blind eyes flew open as she panted in the short reprieve afterwards. She groaned.
I am the MasterI am the masterI am the Master4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are my slave
I am in control
You do as I say
I can make you do everything
You cannot resist me
I am the will that wins
You are the will that submits
I am the one that rejoices
You are the one that sorrows
I am addiction
You are human
How CharmingI'm desperate to find herHow Charming1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to steal another kiss.
should be simpler than this.
Hatred: ProjectHatred: Project9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I am hatred.
I am revulsion.
If you know me and do not fear me, you are evil.
I have enough hate for myself.
I am a snake.
I am a w o r m.
There is poison in my blood.
I can never die a peaceful death.
I won't let myself.
I am burning now as I will burn then.
I am evil and it is consuming me.
There is no place in me but hate.
There is no place in me but d i s e a s e.
Do not touch me.
Stay away from me.
I am unclean.
How can you not smell it on my breath?
The r o t of me body, the d e c a y of my heart.
We are so much the same, yet so different.
You saw my taint.
Go away, run home.
Tell the I am the one.
I am the man, the murderer</b>.
There is poison</b> in my blood.
How dare she? I am a killer.
I am c h a o s.
I will show her.
I have changed my mind.
I will not die.
I will live as I am and as I will.
REPO: Et In Arcaerdia Ego, Chapter IREPO: Et In Arcaerdia Ego, Chapter I5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA: ET IN ARCÆDIA EGO
Chapter I: "Plaga Medicus"
Written by Abri Isgrig and Diane N. Tran
Dr. Juan Guerrero read that headline splashed across the front page of a discarded copy of the magazine, Vanity and Vein:
WHO IS THE PLAGUE DOCTOR?
The infamous Repo Man an urban legend, a figment of the mind's eye, a ghoul, a boogeyman was sketched upon the cover, with a pair of hollow, soulless eyes and a long, vulturine beak and a dramatic, flowing cape. It was amusing really, as it looked nothing like him. Artists are a strange and imaginative lot, but not very smart.
Guerrero tossed the magazine into the gutter, studying it roll along with the other trash the wind carried. He turned on his holographic watch:
It was time. Would she come?
Turning the corner, a woman, fresh and beautiful, pranced down the half-lit all
Little Trees [Transformers Prime]If the kids showed up with gifts, it was usually a human holiday. Optimus always encouraged it, seeing it as a new opportunity to learn about their culture and bond. A few days a year, they traveled together to watch fireworks (and on one such occasion happened upon spooked aerial Vehicons not knowing what the frag was going on—Ratchet almost laughed his bumper loose).Little Trees [Transformers Prime]2 years ago in Humor More Like This
One holiday the kids gave them tiny red papers and Miko put heart-shaped stickers all over Bulkhead's helm. Explaining Thanksgiving proved awkward and later Optimus reminded his team that humans were a young race with much to learn.
So after school one day when Raf excitedly said they had something for the Autobots, Ratchet snorted from his medbay. "Did the Easter Bunny come again?"
"Uh, Ratchet, that's in the springtime. It's totally fall right now," Miko said, reaching into the bag in Jack's hands.
"We saw these and thought you'd like them," Jack clarified, holding something small and pink out to Arcee. It was in
An Otaku's Love.I love my boyfriend.An Otaku's Love.2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
He's just so...Oh, I don't know.
How to explain it?
He is my Russia.
I'm his little sunflower.
Pluck me, you die, da?
He is my soul mate.
The Hideki to my Chi.
The one just for me.
He is my Tamaki.
Although he's not my daddy,
I'm his baby girl.
He's my Vegeta.
I am the queen of Saiyans,
And he is my king.
Feisty and strong-willed,
He is my Inuyasha.
I'm his Kagome.
Protective and strong,
He's the Kyo to my Tohru.
I love my kitty~
He's Ed. I'm Winry.
Though tough, he breaks now and then,
So I fix him up.
Like Maka and Soul,
Our Soul Resonance is strong.
Far stronger than theirs.
In case you can't tell,
He's an Otaku, like me.
One more perfect match.
Eternal UnderdogSuccess has the stenchEternal Underdog2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of pure alcohol,
and storage closets
filled with skeletons-
fragments of spirits
swept into dustbins;
praises and merits
for repeated sins.
Where is the virtue
when in the dark
I never glow?
Why would I want to
gain the world
but lose my soul?
Victory's a bag
of addictive drugs,
and two instruments
of death and decay-
for my soul to pay;
cloth-like green parchments
with few words to say.
If all my success
leads to excess
I'd rather stay
Abby - In The Dark Forest of Mirrors TG - Part 3Abby - In The Dark Forest of Mirrors TG - Part 33 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
In the Dark Forest of Mirrors (An Abby Longbloom tale) (continued)
A little girl with long gray hair lay on silvery ground surrounded by a sapphire-tinted, crystalline forest. She panted roughly.
"Get up, Nana." The words startled her though she herself had spoken them. Her voice echoed like it had joined with others in a cacophony. She tried to use her hands to push herself up but the ground felt slippery, fragile, and alive to her touch.
Clenching her teeth, she repeated, "Get up, Nana." She tried to bend at her waist but the ground clung to her.
"Get up, Nana!" This time, it sounded like her voice was reflecting on something which hadn't been there a moment before. She didn't have much strength but she had enough to sit up. Panting, she looked around.
Forest on all sides but like no forest she had ever seen. The sapphire-tinted trees looked like carefully hand-blown glass with natural details. They resembled great elms though she had only a vague feeling of what elms w
FMA: OxymoronPeople who met Greed and thought of him as selfish were missing the whole point.FMA: Oxymoron3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Of course he was selfish; the trait literally embodied him. However, the pure volume of it that he possessed had long ago reached a kind of critical mass.
Without even noticing it, he had become a much different kind of being to the one Father had created all those years ago.
He had passed through the extremes of selfishness, arriving by a roundabout route at a sort of selflessness instead.
Everything belonged to him (or should, in his mind) so in turn everything had a value. Everything and everyone mattered to him, even though his behaviour didn't change much from the days when he had seen other creatures as nothing compared to his needs.
To Greed, the entire world revolved around his desires, his goals. In turn, the world itself gained importance.
Although of course he told himself that all the effort he took was merely to ensure his own well-being, it became harder and harder to regain faith in h
Just a trip to the beach AmericaxReaderJust a trip to the beach AmericaxReader2 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Catch up slowpoke!!" You giggled, kicking sand up as you sprinted along the shore. You were at the beach with your best friend, Alfred F. Jones, and you were having the time of your life! Well, to be honest, you kinda had a humongous crush on him since the first day you two met haha ANYWHO, you were running across the (for some reason) deserted beach when suddenly two large arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you high into the air.
"Gotcha! Geez _______, you could at least put up SOME sort of a challenge" Alfred said flashing his infamous goofy smile.
"Ack! A-Alfred! Put me down!" you squealed, squirming in his arms.
He put you down as a small blush was appearing on your face. You quickly turned around, hiding your blush, and ran closer to the shore, Alfred following close, not wanting to be left behind again. At this point it was really cloudy, maybe being here wasn't such a great idea. Just as you were about to suggest leaving, you were interrupted by the sight of
I Am That GirlI'm the girl who writes poemsI Am That Girl2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because it helps me get my feelings out.
It's the only way I know how.
I'm the girl who will love anyone
No matter who they are.
I'm the girl, who can be annoying at times,
But I love life and everything in it.
I'm the girl who will always make
Room in her heart for someone,
Because I love just about everyone.
I'm the girl, who will flirt with you,
But never admit to you how I really feel.
I'm the girl who will truly love you.
No one will ever love you as much as I do.
tense intentionsiv.tense intentions2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you lurk behind my sternum and
lace my uneasy breaths with
doubt and self-deprecation, I
can't breathe. I
guess I didn't need to sleep.
I am smudged in between the lies,
an asymmetric astrology chart
mapping misguided dreams
when you make a wish on me,
I sell away another piece
(I wish I were my own)
it was always me, it was always
the blood clotting in my heart
and words coagulating on my
tongue – I swallow cyanide to
vomit up my narcissistic tendencies
it was nothing that ever mattered
when the dust settled and you
could finally remember my name
(and you settled down into my bones
deciding I was hollow enough for a stay)
I will never leave
but I warned you my poetic dedications
were never pretty
i write bad poetry.You are made of bone, sinew, gristle, synapse, skin, keratini write bad poetry.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not inkwells and Hemingway, galaxy-cuttings and star-trimmings
or dream, Edgar Allen Poe, absinthe, reflections and sin.
You know a hundred words to describe every pockmark that dots
your face and the way your pens fit into arrow-quivers by that
ricketty old desk of yours but
Words will not
from your mother-of-pearl lips
Apply cleverly-done descending letters here
and sprinkle one jaunty hyphen across the page
because after all, punctuation is a hitchhiker
and you're speeding down the word count like a cargo truck
till you crash into an abrupt ending or more likely
a lack of poetic inspiration.
Today and yesterday and seven days before, you might have
prostituted your muses, a penny for your thoughts, looked with
cross-eyes at your empty lined pad of paper and then
wrote seven pages about a cloud you saw that eventually scattered
into dreamy folds and smoke.
The sky is blue.
The sky is big.
Apply 'the sky is
GladiatorBeing an artist sometimes feels like being a gladiator.Gladiator2 years ago in Letters More Like This
Though the occasional flowers heal the superficial wounds or boost the ego after an exhausting fight, they do nothing to keep pain at bay when I go back to my cage.
Just like gladiators who die in the arena, spilling their guts out in the concrete and omnipresent dirt, just like the reality of the screams and wails covered by the cheers of the masses... so do I spill everything I feel on paper, for your entertainment.
And just like the cuts of a sword through the flesh, going down with a shriek on the naked bone, are real, so are the nervous strokes of the pencil real, and the words are real, and the pain is real, and the love is real. And this is the only way I can do art, and you have it all, the gore and the sublime.
And I will keep doing it this way until I collapse in the dirt, with my guts spi
The Anime WorldI have many different lives and personalities.The Anime World2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm reborn in many unique worlds as new people.
In one life, I'm watching a headless rider ride past me on a motorcycle with no headlights.
In another life, I'm a soon to be magical girl making a contract.
Another, I'm working beside the greatest detective of all to solve an almost impossible case.
Another, I'm perfecting the art of alchemy.
Another, I'm selling my soul to the devil.
I have many different lives, I experience new things each time I'm reborn, and I learn new lessons and make mistakes along my path.
I’m taken from my worlds when I shut the TV off.
I really wished I lived in an anime world.
The lick of the FlameMost people fear the wild flame.The lick of the Flame2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I long for the flame to lick my skin.
To warm my ever cold heart
and to give back the passion I once owned.
I long for the smoke to suffocate my misery
I long for the smoke to fill my lungs
For it is thicker and sweeter than what air ever could be to me.
I long for the smoke to intoxicate my mind.
For the crackle of the flame to whisper sweetness to me.
As the flame takes over my heart.
I long for the burning lick of the flame.
To give back feeling.
To give back life.
In this hallow state,
To feel the bliss of the fervently flame.
To feel the pulsing of my heart once more.
I am alive.
Once more in this hallow state
I crave for the wild flame to lick my heart and burn my soul
to give me life and passion once more
Make my heart pulse again.
Love Hurts“Love hurts”.Love Hurts1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I never knew the meaning of those words.
How could something so beautiful be so curt?
Why do they say it flies away like a bird?
“Stop this nonsense”.
They never did quite understand or see.
Our love has no consequence
As I was meant for you and you for me.
“Don’t choose with your ego”.
I’m not doing this all for me or for you.
I just love his smile that always does glow,
And between us, things are never blue.
“He will break you”.
Please do not just assume that
What happened to you will happen to me too.
I would know if he was a threat.
“There is no such thing as fate”.
You say it with such conviction,
Are you so quick to hate?
You have never seen the darkness brighten