fuck, here we go again.the back roads--fuck, here we go again.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a water bottle full of
god knows what,
and it burns a little going down.
that's okay. we all need that,
we touched a windmill.
and we leaned against it,
pointing at radio towers
with cheap cigarettes dangling between our lips
before we kissed,
sober, this time
stars screamed at us.
this is why
you like the country.
i wondered about our smoke
creating the stars
as it drifts out of our lungs
in clouds of post-code envy
(god, we need to get away from here).
that would take a long time.
that's okay. we've got time.
you never taught me how to sleep.one day you'll unfoldyou never taught me how to sleep.1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
your bedsheets, and i will still
be in the creases.
Twilight AnalysisTwilight Analysis5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Twilight: A Critical Literary Analysis
In 2005 Stephanie Meyer's book Twilight was published and found itself on the New York Times Bestseller list. Since then it spawned three sequels New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn and they have inexplicably become one of modern literature's biggest cash cows. However Twilight and its sequels are just awful books, and that's why I've taken it upon myself to explain just how poorly constructed these novels are. Stephenie Meyer's use of language is bland and excessive in its detail, and it worsens when she tries to pepper in fancy thesaurus-words but uses them erroneously. Her prose is plagued with dialog to the point where it stops being a novel and becomes a childish role playing session. Meyer also fails to understand the most basic principles of fiction writing, such as how to effectively use point of view, how to utilize conflict to propel the story, or how to construct a plot. In addition her charact
Vampire!Arthur x Reader: Part XVVampire!Arthur x Reader: Part XV2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You're in a place of fear." Good with Grenades.
My blood was no different from anyone else's. It was red; it tasted like iron, and ran through veins. However, they did mention how my blood was valuable somehow to others, but immediately mentioned Arthur. Arthur was practically king of vampires, most vampires feared him. This was the first time I heard of other vampires wanting to fight him, like the Nordic vampires. I never really realized that if I were to take out Arthur all the other vampires would attack humans more often. I glanced at Arthur; he seemed annoyed with what Berwald said. He slouched in his seat looking away from everyone else.
"Why my blood though?" I asked.
"Your Arthur's w'fe, no?" Berwald asked, even though he knew the exact answer.
"Her blood is much sweeter because of it " Alfred mumbled, "I've been getting an urge to bite her this whole time even Matt! And you know he has never had the urge to drink human blood." He exp
How to Keep on TrackThis is only really for people who have problems with work flow. Those of you who don't have problems with dead lines or have issues with your work quality then you already know all this and probably more. You'd also already have something that works for you. For that alone I am jealous. <3How to Keep on Track3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
I am not saying that this is the 'right' way to do something. Just pick and choose the information which sounds helpful for you and take it from there.
How much time do you have?
This is important to know for when it comes to scheduling and making sure that you have enough time so you're not rushing at the end. Because rushing sucks.
Know what you have to get done.
- If you're doing a comic, figure out how long it takes you to do a piece of art. You don't need to be too specific and give yourself some leeway. If it takes you 5 hours to do a comic page make sure that you have enough time set aside to what you're wanting to do.
- Same thing with Written pages. Look at how fast you thi
.I'm thinking of you.1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But I keep forgetting that
I'm only dreaming
the King and his moon.i.the King and his moon.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
this is an ode
to the King. We
watched him blow
away like an ocean
of black feathers,
and our Father muttered
that he was
forgiven, always, truly
forgiven. But we
all know that
nothing gold can
stay-- he had to
go. It was written.
that was when the
Queen cut her hair. Again,
we watched it fall to
her chamber floor
in heaps of strung
gold. But we already
knew that it would have
to go. We already
knew that she
would go, for it
was written, and it
was already forgiven.
the Prince grew up
with the memory of
black shoes and hair
littering the halls of
an empty palace. The
Queen was busy, always
busy, and then she was sick--
and then the Prince put on
his black robes for her, even
though he always remembered
her in shades of red.
on his father's throne,
the boy-king realized that
this was the place
that swallowed up his love,
and it gave way to war.
You know what they
say-- "A heartbrok
ExhaleTowering overExhale10 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
all you have left behind. Just
don’t forget to breathe.
If The World Is a Book I Want to Read Every PageIf The World Is a Book I Want to Read Every Page2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If The World is a Book, I Want to Read Every Page.
Let me memorize each dotted "i"
of moonlights freckled face
Trace the silver ripples
of a seashores wrinkled page
Count the auburn stanzas 'tween
the depths of trembling trees
Ride upon the vessel
of a sun-kissed simile.
Open sky-stripped windows
to the sigh of cursive clouds
Shuffle through the metaphors
Awaking through the ground
Slant the sails of poetry
toward continents of sea
Deep into the jungles where
the verses lace the trees.
Catch the winds of free verse
Or the open waves of rhyme
Sift through ocean ballads
where the sunset greets the tide.
Study drops of scripture
as it clicks against the street
Sleep between the pages
of departed poetry.
...I Write to a Dead General...I Write to a Dead General6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I write to a dead general
To ease surviving pain,
A tear falls on the page -
A drop of desert rain
Like balm into the waters
Of lifes too bitter cup,
Tipping the scales of history -
To raise you slowly up.
Above your long-gone victors
Above the scorn of time
Above blind crowds and mockery,
With my ill-written rhyme.
I dont know if youll hear,
But Im doing what I can
To get this through to you
Past time and wind and sand
May the gods watch you in battle
My dear and long-dead friend
May the desert nights be warmer
And steady be your hands
Meanwhile Ill watch the picture
Of a kind-eyed weary man
And rue the sorry fact that I
Already know your end.
Fate be damned.personally,Fate be damned.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i can’t see myself with
the milky way embedded in my
bones, much less my heart. it
sure would be nice to wish upon a
star for our happy ending, but i think
my prince charming just
i am a phantom
stitched into my
lips and rose petals
inked into my skin.
bones would like to
whisper “i love you”
in every language of
because fate may
not exist and it’s
high time i form
my own destiny.
palm readingsi exist in the city limits because i want the wind to make me frail.palm readings1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
fragile like a ghost,
a sorry sin i promise to abstain but inevitably commit.
my bus fare is a kick down memory lane.
i walk instead.
he told me i spun words that dissolved on the tongue
before he even had the chance to taste them.
he called me sugar like a midday ritual,
dressed me in compliments more fit for kings than commoners.
i turned complacent; comforted by new beginnings
and frightened by sudden endings.
my mother never taught me how to avoid heartache.
she only told me that my heart was a gold mine
and i should never let fake jewelry lay over it.
once, out of spite, i showed her my palms and asked what she saw.
she told me that in this world full of practice, there was no time for games.
when i showed him, he said that i am overworked.
now, it is the purgatory between autumn and winter that sinks my guts.
the waiting room lacks couches and candle scents.
the smiles are either plastic or
All I gave you was neglect.I am staring at your pictures, reading some heartbrokenAll I gave you was neglect.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and tough girl words that you post, and all I
can really say is that I love you and miss you;
you ignore my messages, and I can't blame you when
all I gave you was neglect, but we were
different people then. Today, I'm a broken girl, too;
really, I was yesterday, but I couldn't admit it yet, and
now that I can, I just want to remind you that
your pain is not unique, not to make you feel bad,
but just so that you can remember the love and devotion
that two girls with broken pieces form, and
that I love you. And miss you. I will trade conversations
for snatched information from facebook statuses,
but I will never accept that this is what we've become.
here's to losing youhey, wow,here's to losing you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
great! you do!
are you happy?
no, but here, have my
see me turn myself
upside down when we run
into each other.
while you are shaking hands
and kissing babies
still smiling for smiling's sake,
I've seen the real you
crying into wine. I've felt you
stain my shirt black-streaked
with hidden away things
creased things, folded
and in the process, you
soaked my soul in
spooning your vulnerability
was better than
in one blind night,
better than the electric jolts
you sent burning up my arms
when you grabbed my hand
one day, out of the clear blue,
better than that first kiss
when both our tensions
dissolved into each other
like butter in a hot pan.
nothing has quite matched the night
when I saw you naked, saw you
emotionally undress for the first time:
Americaxreader Books -Oneshot-Americaxreader Books -Oneshot-3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The library. The only place you like to go. Shelves full of books, peace and quiet, and more shelves of books! And you were lucky to actually to work in your school library for last block. Relaxing in the library counter, you read your favorite manga.You were about to turn the page when a group of fan girls came pass you, squeling so loud. You look at them with an irritated face and thought bitterly 'Alfred is in the library....'
Thru out your time working at the library, you notice that a boy came to the library; excatally at last block. His name was Alfred F. Jones. For you, he looked like a normal student who went to the library. Later on you’re found out he was the most popular person in school. You didn’t really mind him being there; he always quiet and he looks like he studying. Also you liked to look at him when you had nothing else to do. But the thing you hate having him here is his immense fan girl groups.
They made a lot of squeaking squealing noises. It really
whiskeyShewhiskey2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in one slow,
I heard it plunge
into the gaping
emptiness of her.
drank the sun
from my fingertips,
licked me from her lips,
look better dead, plucked
from your November pores."
"They go down smoothest
with Writers Tears."
I am trying to be honest,but I write so fucking floweryI am trying to be honest,2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it makes me sick,
rose scented stars & love.
Her: helpless as a lamb,
I want raw, aching
bone against bone
exploring the exposed, naked
poetry of her universe-
( warm, celestial hands
forging sandcastle ribs. )
Southern earth beneath her feet,
wanderlust burned like Apollo's touch
into her spinal cord, please awaken
the empty space between her skin
.and like a stone at.11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the bottom of the river
or the sea,
i think life might just be
flowing right past me
Who Needs Friends?Dear Loneliness,Who Needs Friends?3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Will you be my friend?
Because I seem to just be a trend,
That the world has put to bed.
Will you make me smile?
Because Happiness has run a mile,
Just like everything else I need.
Will you help me hope?
Because Optimism is a slippery slope,
When you've seen the world.
Will you make me care?
Because I hate Interest's flare,
In a place too dull for life.
Will you make me content?
Because you're the one that'll prevent,
That which I long for.
Will you make me feel alive?
Because I don't even want to survive,
In a world that cares too much.
Will you make me a saint?
Because I don't deserve a heavenly taint,
Due to the sinner that I have become.
Will you make me your sob-story?
Because you want all of the pride and glory,
Of surviving where your buddy fell.
QuotesHave you ever felt that feeling whenever you see someone, you freeze and your heart starts to beat so fast and you have to hold on to something so you wouldnt fall? Sometimes when they talk to you, do you utter stupid words and end up embarrassing yourself? Its not that you want it, but just the presence of that person makes your heart beat faster and slower at the same time. Would you be brave and admit your feelings? What if its simply not meant to be, do you give up? Or keep trying and end up with nothing? Well, thats love. Its irony speaks, but you got to take risks to get answers. When you meet someone and you gradually fall in love with that person, try to express your love to her because every moment you wasted would be equal to tons of regret in the end. Dont wait until its too late to tell someone how much you love, how much you care. Because when they are gone, no matter how loud you shout and cry they wont hear you anymore.Quotes8 years ago in Teen More Like This
To one who once was a friendOur ship has left its port,To one who once was a friend2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
no more time remains.
Togetherness is lost
but the memories won’t fade away.
You are like the wind,
searching the world without knowing why.
Never finding what you need
and you wouldn’t stay by my side.
I am like a rock,
staying strong even when the waves are crashing,
never giving up
and I won’t keep begging
You to come back
You were the sea that would leave with the waves,
I was the cliffs that would keep you safe.
I was the sand that forever would stay,
You were the wind that would blow it away.
You are like the wind
and I am like a rock.
Why did we even begin
with something that now forever is lost?
winter footnoteswinter footnoteswinter footnotes5 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
your elbows were anchors
in a softly-lit parking lot,
where you sang to glass and paper:
and your visions are quiet hills
your visions are shy sounds
your visions are sheep covered in frost.
like an old shoe-
that dry rasp
that leaves me covered in skin flakes,
brushed onto the wall .
I am the raised bumps in spackle-
ripped off with the sound of a poor phonograph:
in my chain link home,
a residual ghost.