Yaoi VladxHenry ParingYaoi VladxHenry Paring5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was dark. Dark enough so I couldn't even make out the perfect features of his face. Except for the bright light of the full moon that shined through the curtains, revealing my bare chest.
My heart was racing, beating against my chest as I tried to slow my thoughts.
This isn't right, I thought. This goes against anything I would have thought a month ago. Why am I feeling this? These These urges.
I took a small step to the edge of his bed, in which he laid upon. I sat and faced his direction. I placed my cold hand upon his warm cheek and leaned closer towards his neck. His hot breath sent exciting chills through my body. And oh, how wonderful the smell of his blood rushing through his veins was. I slowly licked the pulsing vein on his neck, up to his cheek. There I sat in his lap breathing his breaths, him breathing mine. He gently leaned forward and our lips touched.
What a wonderful moment. It was so wrong and yet, felt so right. My first real kiss and it was with a guy.
Writer's Music MemeHell Song - Sum 41Writer's Music Meme6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Blitzwing fell to his knees. What would he do? He couldnt think straight. Astrotrain he was dead. He looked in agony over the broken and burned body before him. Why had this happened? What had they done?
Anger filled him and tinted everything red. Autobots they would rot in hell for this. The dark side of the Well of AllSparks. Just because they had been born Decepticons, didnt mean that they had to had to kill his brother.
He glanced up as a shadow fell over him. Megatron? The leader smiled down at him.
Blitzwing. He said. I can help you get revenge.
Blitzwing paused and considered. Then he stood and followed the Decepticon to meet his fate.
Get Out Alive - Three Days Grace
Jetstorm clutched his side painfully and breathed heavily. This battle was one they were losing. The Autobots were outgunned as usual but they were outnumbered too. A few gray bodies littered the field. Jetfire?
RevengeBitter andRevenge3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
desires to plot revenge
against one that disrupted
or someone close to heart.
it seems this revenge
was just for you.
Colours I Never TastedIt is not worth escaping over.Colours I Never Tasted3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, sometimes the sun rises lopsided in the horizon and the
clink of glasses against teeth sets irate neurones off in your mind cavity
and fireflies extinguish on car windscreens in rain storms. Sometimes
August drops down into lake reflections and sometimes October never
sends a breeze to whisper into your ears. But they teach you that all of
that is okay, even when you're watching sunflowers writhe towards the
sun with grey blankets over humid-day hair.
There will always be a dawn. Stay awake for it.
You are not truly living until you have breathed.
And by that, I mean, take two feet and place them on the path
or the grass and inhale April. it doesn't matter if it is not April,
imagine the dandelions and the daffodils and the soft bleat of lambs
and that fresh scent rushing past your nose in long car journeys,
the one that tugs your legs onto the map and tells you 'this is home,
all forty thousand kilometres of it'.
The world is your oyster. Be the pear
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinYou're Not?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You're not? Then you're obese.
If you're different, you're insane
You're not? Then you're a fake.
If you're happy, you're hiding something.
You're not? You must be emo.
If you're dating, you're a slut.
You're not? You must have no friends.
If you're popular, you're a jerk.
You're not? You're a nobody.
If you're quiet, you must be disabled.
You're not? You obnoxious freak.
If you're you, you're wrong.
Then you must be perfect.
Troops of a TaskHalt, soldiers!Troops of a Task2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Our objective is near,
our march is closing
along with all the
sacrifice we've endured.
The goal we have been working towards
for an eternity
is finally within our reach.
No ambush, flank, or charge could deter us
for we are knocking right on the doorstep
The Biggest LieI’ve heard KnightsThe Biggest Lie1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
With broken shields
Promise to protect
Princesses from the world.
I’ve tried to rewrite
But I’ve run out of
Ink, and someone
Carved them into walls.
...and i understand things better now...1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
like that nostalgia is a filthy liar
who keeps insisting that things
than they seemed
The Man Aims his Gun, and The Boy Cries.He grabs the man's shirtThe Man Aims his Gun, and The Boy Cries.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Please don't hurt mommy",he says
"I'm sorry kid", replies the man
The man aims his gun
And the boy cries.
That moment, his mother's death
Binds together in chains
And latches on his soul
Never letting go
Never letting his heart beat.
He applies for the military
He gains many medals of honor
He gets married and has a child
But his soul is still bound
And his heart still does not beat.
One day he makes it home drunk
And finds his wife with another man
He gets angry
And throws his wife against the wall
And grabs his gun.
The boy grabs his dad's shirt
"Please don't hurt mommy",the boy says
"I'm sorry kid", he replies
The man aims his gun
And the boy cries.
AftermathAfter all the battlesAftermath2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
After all the suffering
Raise your head
Take a deep breath
Because no matter what happened
No matter the blood spilled
The scars you got
You're still alive
And you can still enjoy
What life has to offer
Flora at the PassHear me read itFlora at the Pass2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will never write of the cherry tree,
or think again on its impermanent beauty;
its delicate and breakable bones
or the pale flush of it's cheeks. I will not.
I will never again be pleased
to see its arms outstretched to embrace.
I won't call it my favourite,
or dream of it's presence at the momentous;
but at my wedding, there will be spring-bloom.
In my bouquet, my hair, my heart.
Enthralled in every quiet bud
of every quiet moment, cherries will be.
At my funeral, similarly,
entwined through my white coffin,
there will be the soft reflection
of its frostbitten petals. Even then.
For no matter what I am, or who,
there will always be blossom in spring.
There will always be cherries in my life;
and there will be flora at the pass.
HerBeneath twisted vines of exceptional lies, exists a simplistic immortal who dares not speak.Her2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her covered eyes release an echo, one that frightens and silences the weak.
And why dost thou hide from her in the clouds, is it to bypass her howls and shrieks?
Is your fear that condensed, must you avoid her being, or are you simply one of the weak?
It does not matter, not anymore, for her immortality is dominance; thou art no more.
Sons and Daughters of The RevolutionSons and Daughters of The Revolution3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A Hierarchy lost in translation,
laid out before us, but so forgotten.
Lord forgive us our folly,
Such great division,
for reasons many.
To my human eyes,
the scorching history,
wayward amid all anarchy.
Fractions to masses,
to lead and wage war.
The eternal struggle,
to which we are oblivious,
but so highly involved.
Lord forgive me,
as I fear my efforts are in vain.
My Poems are ScarsWhat is the point of poetry?My Poems are Scars3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It only creates a record
Of things I would rather forget.
So why do I even write it?
Why do I document despair
To dwell on it later
And relive those memories
That should be old scars?
Is it because I cant remember
Without some trigger
And some masochistic part of me
Cannot let go of my past?
My poems are what I have left
Of that place I once called home.
But why do I read them
When Im so much happier here?
PatienceThe right amount ofPatience1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Bitterness, will bend the branch
Of the sweetest fruit
NebulaNebulaNebula2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’ve never been closer,
To the permanent entity,
Before in my life,
As I have been now.
This isn’t somethin’ you come to grips with,
Nor is it somethin' you handle,
With a wave of a hand, flick of the wrist,
Or bat of an eye.
You’re more like having a bat’s eyesight,
Near-blind because you can hardly see,
What’s coming to be
Nor what may arise.
It’s so fast,
Unrelenting in its pursuit,
And unwavering in its impact.
Shaking anyone who comes into contact,
With the whiff of death that consumes the air,
And constricts our breathing passages,
As you see someone you love,
Go down in flames and fadin’.
In (and out) the nebula of smoke.
Death isn’t so scary.
Just say goodbye,
(I love you.)
Before you die.
Time Is The CureTime Is The Cure2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time Is The Cure
Right hand of destruction
Left hand of creation
It's a never ending cycle
A fatal revival caught in a downward spiral
I tear down reality’s mask
As I build up a truth to give hope a chance
The veiled darkness decays
The guiding light fades
I let go of an old pain
As new tears wash it away
The sun always rises
The moon always sets
The rain subsides
The storm is put to rest
Clouds confide / Memories detest
Skies collide / Cries confessed
Light shines / Dark regrets
Pain hides / Peace professed
A new day awaits
An old night forgotten
Tomorrow I shall awake
To cradle what remains unbroken
I can't erase my mistakes
But I can't let them define my fate
There's always control
There's always faith to hold
Opposites are locked together
I am the sinner; I am the confessor
With time- comes change
Agony and serenity dawn a n
DishonouredDishonoured:Dishonoured3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He stands before the adoring crowd,
Basking in their cheers and standing ovation.
But he has already been dishonoured -
By means of his perverse innovation.
For none could know of the dark secret;
About the art that he claims to be his own.
It is naught but an illusion, smoke and mirrors -
A theft for which he must atone...
But this disgusting creature, this worthless abhuman;
So desperate for the glory which he sees upon the stage!
Will quietly don the skin of another;
An urge he must assuage...
Biting his nails, a cracked smile upon his lips, he whispers:
"No one will know, no one will find it and I am great..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 24th October 2012
Murder your PoemMake your poem suffer,Murder your Poem1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it needs to know how you feel.
And if it doesn't, your poem is ignorant.
Gouge the pen deep within it, until bloody ink stains through.
Write very hard
so your poem can feel your scars.
If you crinkle the corners,
it needs to have broken tattered bones.
Feeling exhausted before your done.
Do not share or post your poem so soon,
for it needs to feel rejection.
Most important, before it dies.
Clean it's wounds, or tape its rips,
do no accept forgiveness..
As your poem dies, you'll be surprised.
Your dead withered poem,
Oh DeathOh Death4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was too fast, much like fire spreading across a freshly polished floor. Everyone saw it coming; just not like this. Gilbert wasn't a drunk. Sure he would drink on the weekends but he never drank to the point where he got violent. He knew his limit. He loved to harass Roderich. To get under the piano nerd's skin. He loved to go hunt, swing out into the lake with that old tire swing that Vati hung on the sturdy tree branch. Gilbert was great; that is until he had to fall.
The night was November 4, it was another normal night at our home. Gilbert laughing and talking to his friend Antonio over the phone. Vati had gone to work and left Gilbert in charge. I was 16 and Gilbert was 18, I could take care of myself. Now stuck with my older brother for the night I had no choice but to go to bed early. I heard his annoying laughter as he laughed with his friend on the line. I rolled my eyes and walked upstairs and went to bed.
With the feeling of anxiety in my stomach I could not sleep, I kept