.All that exists of what used to be you is an organ,.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
.A breach erupts on the constantly shifting, cerulean surface.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
as a difference in temperature enfolds supple skin.
Already the notion of insincere signatures and infinite pages
seem a world too far from here.
Colossal silhouettes materialize from all angles, speaking,
singing; A sound that rumbles through you,
reverberating throughout you, echoing.
A melody we may only wish to comprehend, a tune
that reaches beyond the things that will not wait for us
above the cerulean surface.
hairline .:commish:."Life is only ever crashing cars," she says,hairline .:commish:.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
resting the glass against her bottom lip. "It's all
sound and shrapnel
and diesel stains--" and she
takes a swig--
"and here we are,
picking up the pieces."
You top her up with her
favorite poison as the glass hangs loose
on pianist fingers. She smiles, shows
wouldn't I know?"
If life is measured in broken windshields, hers
runs deep and self-inflicted--
twisted drunk in a haze of
and chemical backwash.
And here you are,
some quiet ambulance--excavating venom
from her mess of scrapyard steel and
What Became of Yesterday's Theatrics?Ode to morose pleasantriesWhat Became of Yesterday's Theatrics?3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Their vapors swallow my day
Burden the winds with gloomy ember
Conjurer of sorrows I dare not remember
And stew in contempt
Estranged from beating solace
I am stripped of fellowship lively and bold
When heartfelt companions were squandered and sold
Recall the nights of quivering elation
Firm and whole
Young with promise
They perished along with the caring few
Fated to die aside the morning dew
Ode to quiet scorn
Bland with mundane worry
True wonders rot in its hollow reign
For dreary silence has become their bane
What became of the lightening’s flair?
Of the pursuant thunder that had its way
What of the restless chatter of youth?
Unknowing of the morrow’s loom
Unfazed by its devilish bloom
My ResumeGood reading comprehension,My Resume3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
adequate typing skills,
adept at mental math and making
statistical graphs from lists of information.
Experience with computer programming,
thorough proofreading abilities complemented
by an inclination toward triple-checking.
I can develop fictional hierarchies
to understand the social politics surrounding
and talk for hours about nothing,
rattle off facts about Isherwood, Turing, Nilsen.
Boredom doesn’t affect me,
I read the labels on everything,
pull the clutter out of my closet just
to put it all back in a less ergonomic order.
Three days is the longest I’ve been silent,
I can smile at anyone
without a genuine drop of affability,
and pace my apartment for minutes or days or hours.
Caffeine and nicotine and THC
are the only drugs I’ve recently ingested,
my hands are steady,
I can pick false dichotomies out of advertisements.
My patience for useless tasks is endless,
I can stand on my head,
almost suck my own cock,
for magdalenei think i’ve figured out the reason you’re sad all the time.for magdalene1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it has something to do with your mess of a tongue, bitten through
and scarred from the times you’ve tried to hold your words inside.
stop doing that. let them out,
they’re not worth the blood in your mouth.
neither is your parents. and i’m not going to try
and tell you that they’ll understand one day
because some moms and dads never will.
but you’re always gonna have a skyline, you’re
always gonna have something to look forward to.
believe me, the world never ends.
not even on the days you want it to.
not even on the days when you’re looking
for gods in the weirdest places, like the broken
spine of the book you’ve read thirty-four times,
the front seat of your brother’s truck, the gap growing
between your niece’s front teeth, and all the other things
you find holy.
the world doesn’t end; and for that matter, neither do you.
the only thing i learned
hide and seekeveryone looks to the starshide and seek2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but maybe if we focused more
on the grains of sand
beneath our feet we might
just find something a little
she had a habit of making stars cryprobably could've settled forshe had a habit of making stars cry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
less than mine, but there's
a tongue-tied night sky
crying to the moon and
its narrating defenses
against my remarks, comments
never too dark to notice the spark, dead
shooting stars have been
trying to prove. to me, it takes
more than will to move
the north to the south, no field will
help you, no power will allow you,
no words will let you.
should've stuck to rhyming for
catharsis and, let the night cry to
a fraudulent sun and
found comfort in anonymity to
hang on some more; should've quit
being a witness before i
fell to the floor. should've opened
before popping those pills and let
drag reluctance until it
swam into ripples too perfect for
the moon, and stayed to hold the
stars when they fell
into our lagoon.
probably could've lied about
discovery and the Nile, probably would've
granted every wish worth the while. could've
said the day was too dark for the
night, could've stopped the moon from
settling to surviv
the natural progression of thingstomorrow i will try to write you a postcard.the natural progression of things2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it will be hard, and i will spend hours trying
to think of a way to compress these last
three years into a single box.
‘Did you see the last Dodgers game, I bet you cried’,
maybe, or ‘Sorry I punched you in the face, I hope
You’re still bruised enough to remember me’.
yesterday, the neighbor asked for sugar
and i filled your old coffee mug to the brim
to give to him and when he tried to give it back
i said, “honey, keep it, no one likes Nickelback anyway.”
i wake up in the middle of the night because
of things like that, you know, wake up with a hand reaching
toward the other side of a too big bed, bridging the distance
like the Colossus. we are both struggling to make ends meet.
after all, most nights i still think i can feel the ghost of your
breath whispering over my wrists: a secret, a promise, a manacle.
i’m listening to your favorite band
at three o’clock in the morni
thoughts on a friday in aprillook, you are summer,thoughts on a friday in april2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with your half-a-watermelon smile and
eyes like fireworks in the sky.
and you know what,
before i met you, i kind of just wanted
to be autumn, to make dying look beautiful,
to go out with a blaze of glory.
but when you kiss me i can feel
spring bubbling up inside of me.
and okay, maybe there are times
when we fight like winter, taking no
captives, leaving no survivors, but—
okay, there’s no easy way to say this:
I want to spend 365 days with you
again and again and again because
even though that scares me stiff,
you make me feel like I’m blooming.
Not So Wrong ValentineSeria: D.Gray-ManNot So Wrong Valentine7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ostrzeżenia: Moyashożerna Lenalee, gównianość walentynkowego oneshota ._.'
W momencie w którym otworzył oczy, Kanda Yuu wiedział, że coś jest nie tak. Przez błękitno-fioletowy witraż okna wesoło świeciło słońce, rzucając na ciemne ściany roztańczone plamki koloru. Powietrze wypełniał przytłumiony, rozedrgany ptasi trel, którego normalnie egzorcysta nie słyszał w swoim pokoju.
- Co do - mruknął, siadając na łóżku. Rozrzucone w nieładzie atramentowe kosmyki włosów opadły na jego nagi tors. Zmarszczył brwi, przecierając oczy wierzchem dłoni. W tym momencie jakiś ptak o wyjątkowym braku chęci na dalsze życie przysiadł na parapecie, kwiląc. Osoby przebywające na niższych piętrach i w najlepsze zajęte d
Xanxus x Tsuna- Xanxus-sama....zrobiliśmy tak jak kazałeś. 10th Vongola siedzi zamknięty w celi - oznajmił Squalo stając w drzwiach do wielkiego salonu. Xanxus zerknął na niego, przeczesując dłonią czarne kosmyki. Uśmiechnął się chłodno i wstał.Xanxus x Tsuna8 years ago in Erotic More Like This
- świetna robota....chociaż raz się popisałeś - furknął, mijając białowłosego, jednocześnie odpychając go brutalnie na ścianę. Zignorował obraźliwe wyzwiska pod swoim adresem, i dziwnie zadowolony poszedł do celi, która znajdowała się w piwnicy wielkiej Willi należącej do Varii.
W końcu stanął w drzwiach do małej, szarej klitki, która posiadała tylko jedno okienko. pod ścianą stał Tsuna, z rękoma skutymi nad głową. ze spuszczoną głową, oddychał ciężko, a kilka kropel potu sp
Your Turnthings missedYour Turn3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
planes not caught
boats not sailed
We Traded Our Hearts for StarsFor every boy I ever kissed,We Traded Our Hearts for Stars3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
the trembling of her lips matches yours.
(Poet, breathe now.)
I should write this down,
the last piece I ever write about you.
You’ve been gone finding
constellations, ambitions, and things in between,
and this is me being brave,
dancing on the fire escape.
(I wore you like a bruise.)
drowning poets in the morningDear poetry,drowning poets in the morning3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
I wear you like a bruise
- hold this against me.
A cup of tea
and an element of fear,
The jewels in my crown
Unfortunately we are
talking in their sleep
because I'm too afraid to fly in daylight
there's not a glass slipper left
so tell me the truth;
this is checkmate,
another book bites the dust,
and loneliness drowns
the confessions of a misguided poet.
Just 'Cause it's Cute-- yuri "I'm not good at this," she said to the ceiling, though she could have looked at me. "You know how socially retarded I can be."Just 'Cause it's Cute-- yuri7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I laughed, enticing a nervous giggle from her, though that was the only sound either of us made for a while. With a sigh of exasperation, I sat beside her on the bed, following her gaze upward. "Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind?" I asked, looking over at her as she bit her lower lip. I already knew, of course, what she was here to say. I'd known for a while. I wasn't an idiot, after all, and Lacey and I had grown up together. I always knew what she was feeling, what she was thinking. She was going to tell me that she liked me, and that thought didn't scare me nearly as much as it should have.
According to my family and my church and her family and her church and the country and the people in it and George Bush and any number of religious texts, what she was about to tell me w
Teacher's pet 11 -yuri-It's not like that. We really like each other. I think... "I-I-w-we-" I couldn't explain.Teacher's pet 11 -yuri-4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She leaned closer and kissed my cheek lightly. "Well I like you too."
Woah. What is with these teachers? "B-but..."
"I want to be as close to you as she is..." She pulled me closer and looked at me.
Sure why not? It's not like me and Mrs. Star have real feelings for each other (I think). And Mrs. Star has her husband on the side and all I have is someone who says they love me just to get in my pants. So yeah. Why the fuck not?
I turned and pushed my lips up to her small delicate ones.
Not much spark.
I mean with Mrs. Star I felt the rush, the heat and the fireworks, all at once. But with her... it wasn't the same...
She hugged me to pull me closer, lips still on mine.
"ALEX KAYLA BROD!" A voice boomed through the library.
I broke away quickly and jumped up away from Miss. Foxx's lap, breaking from her hold.
"What the fuck is this?!" Mrs. Star yelling stomping over to me with anger in her eyes.
UndeservedI don't deserve to be an artist.Undeserved3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know how to hold deep meaningful conversations with strangers.
I don't lament at night about a lover I have lost.
I don't watch the white smoke ebb into darkness.
I don't spend lonely nights admiring the true beauty of the world.
I don't sleep restlessly from the truth of suffering within this world.
I don't lie through my smiles or struggle to create them.
But I do think I am a writer.
I am completely, irreparably damaged.
I cry all night over old words and emotional baggage.
I weep over my lost innocence.
I spend nights wishing for skin against my own
I long for insomnia to inspire me.
I beg for worlds to collide so I can breathe.
So am I writer really?
Or just another misguided artist?
Guardian Angel Yuri VersionI've always had a guardian angel. No one has ever believed this to be anything more than a simple dream, but I've seen her. The first time I saw her was when I was eight years old and a man I did not know was pulling me towards someplace I did not want to go. I was crying and trying to pull away, trying to get back to my mother. then in a blur of gold and white, my arm was freed and the creepy older man had disappeared. Even in the blur I swore I saw the large beautiful white wings of an angel.Guardian Angel Yuri Version6 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
As much as I regaled this tale to my parents, they never believed me and I had simply gotten in trouble for wandering too far from my mother's side. As the years began to pass, even I started to believe I had simply dreamed the entire encounter up. Then when I was thirteen, I had gone on a hiking trip with my class in the Niamori Mountains. At our noontime break, we stopped at a large clearing next to a steep cliff. We were all laughing and posing for pictures near the edge, despite our teacher'
Astrologically Challenged“We need to ta- what are you looking at?”Astrologically Challenged3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Oh...but I thought you didn't like them."
“Actually, I hate horoscopes. They lie every single damned time.”
“Not to me they don’t.”
“Sure. You were saying something.”
“We need to break up.”
“I fell in love with you before you were the boy who sang about my problems in your songs, and before you tried to evolve me into your version of a better me and before I saw how you treated your neighbour’s dog and before I knew how much you believed in horoscopes.”
“What’s wrong with horoscopes?”
“Nothing, except for the fact that you never really thought of it as a novel idea that you share the same day as one twelfth of the world.”
“Well you aren’t-”
“I’m not so perfect myself, I know. You loved me better before you read my poetry and understood how damage
BlessedI know that I'm aliveBlessed3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Every time I hold my hand to my chest
I know that I can survive
Every time I get depressed
I know that I am strong
Because I've begun to face the pain
I know that I am brave
Because I'm learning to dance in the rain
The days that hope seems so far away
I remind myself that it's just today
The days that are full of suffering and pain
I breathe, step back, and break the chain
I have learned that tomorrow may never come
And that this life can be over within a blink of an eye
We are in charge of who we become
And what we do and how we react to life's stimuli
I have learned that the past has passed
And I have learned that the future is vastly obscure
What's done cannot be unsurpassed
Worrying about what's to come is maddening for sure
At the end of the day
I lay my head to rest
I thank God that I'm okay
And remind myself of how I'm blessed
She was mineShe was mine and I was hers.She was mine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In my youth, she taught me and she never left me in the otherwise still solitude.
In her youth, I adventured beyond borders with her that I never could have crossed alone.
We scavenged the fields. We skimmed the pond. We sat in the ruins. Together.
In my adolescence we walked side by side, taking in the sounds of the untainted Earth.
In her adolescence, she brought me tiny gifts of stolen life, covered in feathers.
In the end, we shared a long and silent understanding of each other.
We understood the time. The distances. The differences.
In the end, she became the Earth that we used to walk on with one another.
She was mine and I was hers.
Hello Heart.Hello heart,Hello Heart.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Can you hear me?
Are you listening?
Please forgive me, poor heart,
Forgive me for tearing you apart,
For I know not what I did to you.
I still don't know to be entirely true.
I know you're in suffering and aching,
And I know it's my fault for your breaking,
But in time I swear these wounds will mend,
We'll find someone who can better tend.
I know these time are hard and tough.
I know that you've been treated rough,
But please, can you be strong for me?
Don't leave me on my hands and knees.
I'm sorry that I let you break again,
But I promise you there will be zen.
I can hear the music still inside of you,
Let it out so the world can hear it too.
Can you hear me?
Are you listening?
He that invites meGod chose a path for meHe that invites me4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not free or easy
Filled with rocks and despair
And the challenge that bears
And more difficult
Is the way He chose for me to relate
To a world that often hates
Anything not ordinaire
So often I find my
In the solitude of nature
And the gentle hands of prayer