StayWhat would I doStay5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Without a friend like you?
Who would I be
If you left me?
If you stay a while
I can make you smile.
I just can't bear to watch you go.
Do you recall how
We lived in the now?
When we woke up each day
Just to play?
I dread summer's end
As I'll miss you, my friend.
As warm turns to cold turns to snow.
PuppetI’ve long lost all life from inside mePuppet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like a watch, I’ve used all of the battery.
I’m stuck, standing still,
like an idle figurine from some odd story.
Pinocchio aspired to be a real boy,
At least realer than I’d ever be.
Maybe I just need you to breathe some life back into me.
As you’d pull the strings,
I’d move charmingly.
As you’d move me limb by limb,
Until I recollect how it used to be.
Maybe I just need you to breathe some life back into me.
Set Me FreeSet Me Free5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
God is weeping.
Track marks line the young woman's arms in two almost perfect rows and her thin fingers fumble with fitting the needle in place. Her hands are shaking, but she manages to inject the liquid into her rapidly thinning veins.
She hasn't picked up her tattered Bible in months. When the prayers didn't work, the heroine always did. If she couldn't get the heroine, she'd pray for it. She sincerely believed that God was providing her with her fix when really God was weeping and allowing it to happen for a greater purpose, though His heart ached for her.
In a tiny bathroom two streets over lived a teenage boy with bloodshot eyes and bright red streaks on his chest. The wounds were weeping red, but the boy's face was expressionless. By this point, he no longer even felt the pain.
Trembling hands bring the vodka bottle to his lips and he chugs it down, savoring the burning sensation that is now the only thing that makes him feel alive. This boy has never even held a Bible before. I
Dirt Beneath the CobblesDirt Beneath the Cobbles2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
London did not make itself an easy city to love; Christina knew that better than most. Keeping her eyes fixed to the cobbles underfoot, she forced herself to ignore the flood of people crowding into the streets, focusing on following the map tucked away in her memory. The 'In-Between' ran across the bridges of London. An area where the nobility could be found, braving the fetid air drifting across from the slums, gawking at the poor, worthless people who fell into the wrong side of London.
Pulling the rim of her hat lower Christina shrugged past the well dressed sightseers, slipping into the maze of narrow alleyways and filthy terraces which made up the slims. Sidestepping beggars; who huddled in doorways with outstretched palms, she gripped onto her collar, hiding behind the discoloured leather as she moved quickly. Here was where the unsavoury were kept out of sight. The laws set by men like Christina's father forbid those 'of less than pleasing appearance' to step onto the far banks
Only A MonsterOnly A Monster1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
She hated that mirror. She shattered it so many times- she had the scars to remind her how many times she’d slammed her fist into the glass. Everything was a constant reminder of who, or rather, of what she was. It never got any easier. A friend had told her, when she still had friends, that time, despite contrary belief, never heals. It fades and cracks and chips away at what you have to offer it, and she had never been forward with her pain. She kept it close, alongside her scars, alongside every damn reminder of her existence. She was never brave enough to end it. She hated that- her cowardice. It kept her alive and she absolutely despised it.
The bottle of pills shook in her hand, but when she opened it to end this, to end what held her down, when she opened the bottle to fly, her memory swarmed up and took her again, leaving her screaming. Flies to maggots to maggots to flies. Wasps that stung at her hands and cheeks, the wispy husks of what they used to be eventually becomi
Last StopsLast Stops2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The kid was quiet for the first several hours after he had picked her up. Obe glanced at her occasionally, particularly when he changed the radio station, looking for a sign that he had found the one she liked. She was quiet, but expressive, and she wrinkled her nose for the first five that he tried. When he found a classic rock channel, she smiled slightly and her shoulders relaxed. She was staring out the window at the endless dusty desert, but he caught her stealing glances back at him several times. Obe was patient, and waited for her to start the conversation.
“I don’t remember how I got out here,” she said finally.
“That’s okay. Most people don’t.”
“Yeah, but it seems weird that I don’t remember how I got in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah. How did you get here?”
Obe smiled. The girl, who had told him she wanted to be called Ida, had found her chatter. “Oh, I
10 rules for rping10 Basic Rules for RPing:10 rules for rping7 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
1. No godmodding, even in the slightest. Leave everything open for anything to happen, and then if you're RPing with another good RPer, they will respond reasonably. This means you never control another characters actions, and never make it impossible for a character to get out of a situation. If youve set up a precedent for something and the other RPer can also follow rules, then the RP will go well. For example, having guards come out of nowhere and surround someone to make it impossible for them to get away or fight their way out is godmodding. If however theyve say, infiltrated a castle and youve set a precedent that youve got guards there, then that would likely be okay, so long as you keep things realistic. The guards wont be there immediately, it takes time for them to arrive and respond. And please, for sanitys sake, keep the number realistic. If youre in a castle, you arent going to have 10,000 guards. I
ChrysanthemumChrysanthemumChrysanthemum2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Last night, I dreamt of us.
We were together on a mountaintop,
I was sitting on the edge,
With my legs dangling above the bottomless pit,
With a lone, white chrysanthemum in my hand as I pull the petals from the stem.
While you were standing above me, looking on, languidly,
None of us wanting to say anything,
My own mental battle sewing my lips to one another,
Unable to speak,
While you were probably trapped within your own mental depths;
In my mind, I was debating between venting and jumping,
Simply over the fact I didn’t know what that look was in your eyes,
But I think that’s probably the point, that we’re no longer of the same kind,
Maybe I changed into something I’m unaware of, maybe you were the one to transform,
But I don’t get the same feel of what used to be,
This is foreign to me,
An unapologetic feeling of extreme apathy,
And that is the unfortunate reality of this situation,
No matter how long
When Sadness Creeps InWhen Sadness Creeps In11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Here I stand a lone
Sadness fading me,
All that once was;
A shadow I will be
Is now forgotten,
To my once whole heart
My soul is falling apart.
An ocean of
Tears full of speechless sorrow
Voices are but silent
In the whispered cries,
Of fallen mothers,
They no longer dwell,
In morning sun rise.
Placed into a sea
Of dieing dirt of the stars
Where we once inhabited
Of loving father's instead…
We sing a song a faith and hope
But to be torn apart of those who had assurance
Within themselves to believe,
To the minds of the free,
Sadness creeps in…
Taking over thee.
A Little Bit of WonderlandHer name was Alyssa, and when she was nine, her mother built her Wonderland. After being raised on a healthy diet of Charles Dickens, Enid Blyton and J.M. Barrie, it seemed like the natural course of action. She created it out of paper, each scene indispensably, indisputably perfect in its imperfection.A Little Bit of Wonderland2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And she did it because Alyssa was terrified of the idea of falling through a rabbit hole, into a place that allows magic only when you are confused. Mothers do the most impractical, exhausting things to show how much they love their children. It seemed a pity that it was this very effort that kept Alyssa up all night, staring at the paper people like they were coming to get her.
(If Alyssa’s mother knew, she would have spent all her time trying to explain to the little girl that it wasn’t just paper people she should be afraid of.)
God appeared to have a sense of humour when little Alice became Alyssa’s best friend. She lives across the street, her hair always
This is Halloween!This is Halloween:This is Halloween!2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Boys and girls of every age
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?
Come with me and you will see
The friends I've hung down from this tree...
This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Corpses scream in the dead of night!
This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright.
It's our town, everybody scream!
In this town of Halloween...
I am the one hiding under your bed;
Licking your hand with a tongue so red and -
I am the one crawling up your stairs,
Thump-thump-drag, when no one's there...
This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!
In this town we call home
Everyone hail to the pumpkin song.
In this town, don't we love it now?
Everybody's waiting for the next surprise!
Round that corner man, Jockey in the trash can;
Hunters waiting now to pounce, and how you'll...
Scream! This is Halloween
Sadako is on the screen!
Aren't you scared?
Well, that's just fine!
Speaking to Her: PoemSpeaking to Her: Poem2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She looks as if she is in severe pain...
All she does is look through that window in vain...
Why is she going through this pain?
She just stands there watching the cold rain.
What is she thinking inside her head?
She looks as if she just wants to stay in bed.
Why are there cuts on her arm?
I know she really means no harm.
Why does she put her hair in a bun?
When she usually fixes it every day on the run.
Why does she worry so much?
If only she could see what I see, if only our opinions could touch.
I do not judge her.
Honestly, I want to get to know her.
the truth about growing upthe truth about growing up7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
The Girl Behind The MaskThe Girl Behind The Mask3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Behind every line I with my shaking hands scramble down on the paper
Behind every tear that slowly roll down my red cheeks
Behind every slow step I take on this lonely wandering
Behind every heavy breath my lungs struggle to take
Behind this mask Im trying y hardest to wear
Is all the tears you will never see
All the screams you will never hear
All the problems that you cant solve
Nothing Lives Foreveri.Nothing Lives Forever2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When you were a child, we would sit on the porch to talk about your day. And sometimes, we would find a dead bird, or a frog on there. And you would ask me about death and why it happens, looking at the poor creature in my hands, its life cut short and touch it tenderly. I would always say the same thing.
Nothing is meant to live forever, my dear.
The school called me in on your twelfth birthday and asked if I had known how clever you were, that your test scores were the best in the state. They asked me if I knew I had a genius child on my hands who grew bored easily in class and tended to distract others in his classroom, sometimes causing arguments, fistfights and could manipulate his classmates into doing anything.
We don't think this is the school for him. He needs to be challenged appropriately.
You fell in love at seventeen and she was lovely. Kind, caring and beautiful, I couldn't ask for a better girl for you. She was our neighbour
i still love youCONVERSATION BETWEEN EX'S.i still love you4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Girl: Your new girlfriend is pretty (I bet she stole your heart)
Boy: Yeah, she is (but you're still the most beautiful girl I know)
Girl: I heard she's funny & amazing. (all the stuff I wasn't)
Boy: She sure is (but she's nothing compared to you)
Girl: I bet you know everything about her by now (like how you knew just about everything about me)
Boy: Only the stuff that count (I can't even remember the stuff she tells me when I think of you)
Girl: Well, I hope you guys last (because we never did)
Boy: I hope we do too (whatever happened to me & you?)
Girl: Well I got to go (before I start to cry)
Boy: Yeah me too (I hope you don't cry)
Girl: Bye (I still love you)
Boy: Later (I never stopped)
You should never attack a poet,we are the best at exploiting weakness.You should never attack a poet,2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the night you took a scalpel to my chest
& fed my heart to the stars,
you told me i could hate you
if i needed to.
with an exorcism
i tried to cast you out
of my body.
i was contorted limbs:
the language of tongues
trying to find myself
in the cosmos
of lit kerosene fingertips,
& the kinds of habits
that only choke me at 3am -
when my eyes aren’t yet heavy
enough for sleep;
my mind tells me to do awful things.
between fucking &
you are the calories
in the mathematical equation
i think of shy moons
and i don’t eat for three days.
you only liked me
when this poetic tongue
space shrapnel aside-
you’re too far down now
for even the stars
to graph you into their maps.
Short Poems for a Lost LoveDIFFERING VIEWSShort Poems for a Lost Love3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I saw, in you, Tomorrow.
You saw, in me, Today.
I loved you out of sorrow.
You loved me for my pain.
You've replaced my mind with the shadow of your smile;
My heart, with a broken-winged dove.
My sight, witht he shattered image of you leaving me;
My hearing, with the echoes of your love.
You took all I had and gave me nothing back;
You took my love and gave me naught but pain.
But I do not hate you, and I never will;
For this, I am the only one to blame.
WHAT HAPPENS NOW
What happens now you've turned the corner?
What happens now you've left my side?
What happened to "You're my forever"?
What happened to "At least I tried"?
What happened to those long-gone days,
When things were simple, if not good?
What happened to the care-free nights
Texting those who understood?
Let Me LiveI was alone, and found another loner. I was lost, and found solace with the lost. And for a few days, it lived. Without complication, without difficulty, without strain. But the way of life is not peace. There will always be those who are discontent or angry at the turn of events, whether it concerns them or not. And they will make their voices heard. They will make your life hard. But you have to do what's right for YOU. You have to feel what's right, decide what you need for YOU to be happy. Then you can worry about others. Then you can help them.Let Me Live4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
If you were my Konstantinereeking of stale cigarettesIf you were my Konstantine5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
beer in hand, walking down the street
ditched my shoes for a nice layer of skin
your fingers entwined with mine
i like your eyes
and your hands
and your tongue
i really like your tongue
i like your legs twisted with mine
and i like the way you tell me
you love me
that you really might fucking love me
you're just drunk
and i'm just in lust
and we're just fucked up
but this is what they write about
in fairy tales