my artistreach into the night skymy artist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and smudge the moon and stars
with the pad of your thumb
like you would charcoal,
like i want to do
to your lips.
make the sky blue-black
for us, love.
An extension of How not to Write Love Interests“Faith, in the sense in which I am here using the word, is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods.” - C.S LewisAn extension of How not to Write Love Interests1 year ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
This quote is about faith not love, but you can see how the same logic applies. If faith is not merely to "feel" as if you believe something, why should love be merely to "feel" that you like something?
In the end, faith is remembering you have reason to believe, and love is a choice about how you treat someone. Feelings are irrelevant. They are passing. They are constantly changing, and that's natural. They can indeed play a role in our decisions about relationships, but are a fickle factor to base an entire decision off of. It's like building a house on the sand. We're human beings with intelligence, and there is no such thing as a feeling so powerful we HAVE to act on it-that is fantasy.
What about circumstances? What about age? Can it ever be simply a waste of time?
On my last deviation, people arg
Hetalia - Kiku, The Boy Who Drew CatsOnce upon a time somewhere in Asia, there lived a little boy called Kiku Honda. He lived in a nice house with his guardian Wang Yao along with some adoptive siblings. While the other children were very helpful, all Kiku ever did was draw pictures of cats in the dirt with his stick. This strange obsession had being going on ever since he was able to clench his fists and his family couldn't staHetalia - Kiku, The Boy Who Drew Cats3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
A Gravedigger's Apprentice: Ch 1Old Man SuttersA Gravedigger's Apprentice: Ch 11 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Dragging the corpse of a full grown man was awkward. Even in life, the beer-bloated Mr. Sutters hadn't been fond of moving, and apparently not even death could change his ways. The cocooned body made a horrible slithering sound as the unwrapped feet scraped the frozen ground, and Horatio was reminded why he hated his job. In warmer months, Sir would help him carry the corpse and the shovel, but alas; Sir’s arthritis thrived in cold weather, leaving him useless and Horatio dragging the fat body alone using his own, disproportionately slim weight. The clouds that occasionally drifted over the half-moon didn’t help either.
Sir was grinning at him, Horatio could see, Sir’s long yellow teeth glinting gold in the light cast from the lantern he held in his craggy hands. “Don’ hurry now, sonny, but the doc
MvA riffs on cockroach factsCockroaches prefer warm temperatures around 84 degrees Fahrenheit and do not tolerate cold. They die at temperatures below 15 degrees Fahrenheit.MvA riffs on cockroach facts6 years ago in Humor More Like This
Susan: Bob! No! Get Dr. Cockroach out of the freezer!
During the summer months, they can be found outdoors in yards and alleys.
Dr. Cockroach: Yes, time to work on my tan.
They can enter structures by being brought in, coming up from the sewer system via drains
Link: I called emerging from the sewers, get your own cool entrance doc.
Both sexes are fully winged. The wings of males extend beyond the tip of the abdomen, while females' do not. They are poor to moderately good fliers.
Bob: *peeks underneath Dr. Cockroach's lab coat* Hey doc! Where are your wings?
Female cockroaches produce many different sex pheromones to attract a suitable mate.
Dr. Cockroach: Susan, you fin
Dear DadI am a transwoman.Dear Dad2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This is not a choice I made;
This is not a choice,
And if it is a choice,
And if I am choosing to be transgender,
Then I am choosing this
like a patient in need of a new liver chooses to have a transplant.
Then I am choosing this
like someone with six months chooses to be happy instead of living longer.
I am choosing this
because there is no choice.
And if it is a terrible choice,
Then it is a terrible choice because I have to make it
It is a terrible choice,
like someone who needs a new liver has to choose to get a transplant.
It is a terrible choice,
like someone with six months has to choose how to live those six months.
Crayons"What are you drawing?"Crayons4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He hovered behind a small girl. Her hand was curled clumsily around one of the many markers she had strewn across her desk, the manila paper in front of her receiving mark after colorful mark from her enduring imagination. To him, it looked like a series of haphazardly scribbled lines, overlapping and crisscrossing with no discernable pattern whatsoever.
"Crayons," she breathed silently, concentrating on her masterpiece. The girl barely moved, save for her small arm swishing across the page noisily on its sacred mission. She then slammed the marker down offensively on the desk, scrutinizing the rest of her arsenal before delicately picking another she had yet to use.
Crayons? With markers? he thought to himself. He'd been a teacher for only two years now and knew ultimately that a surprise would come from the mouth of at least one of his students with every passing day. Looking at the drawing now, he smiled.
Rather than speaking his mind, he si
stalker! england X reader x vargas bros.(AN: okay so this is going to be a new story for I don't know how long. I just had a dream that really weirded me out so I thought this would be an awesome way to cope with it. And since it is a dream, parts of it might not make sense. (I apologize in advance for that) I'm still continuing with the other story but it might take a while because well high school is hard. Oh and I don't have anything against Arthur. )stalker! england X reader x vargas bros.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I remembered him as being such a nice guy a person that could always make you smile even when you had decided that you were hell bent on moping all day. He was fun to hang around, even after we couldn't hang out with him that much. He never actually showed any signs of being anything but a nice guy.
Not until today.
It actually threw me off when I heard him and mom in the living room. The fact that he was raising his voice. The fact that I could hear mom practically begging him to leave. They must be joking. Even then, I wasn't sure.
Run Little Rabbit, RunYou sit silently, painfully pondering, torn.Run Little Rabbit, Run1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wondering if your nightmares will stop.
You shake as you start awake,
Twisting beneath the covers, eyes flickering.
Panic seizes your heart, bile rising.
You hold it back, barely; panting.
You watch quietly as shadows dance.
Glad for your freedom from dreams.
You turn on your side, sighing,
Believing that your torment is over...
But that is when you realize,
As the ceiling sprouts blooded eyes
And as the walls crumble. That
Your terror has only just begun...
So run little rabbit, run away.
Or it won't be fun, this game we play...
-Siddhartha Chen, 29th May 2014
GLaDOS - VoicesIt has been just a few days since your programming began. You are nothing more than a round core of circuits; you are delicate, feeble, barely wrapped by a steel skeleton.GLaDOS - Voices4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
On the desks, the projects already say otherwise. The lines on the paper build complex maps, tracing a huge future for you - they show hundreds of wires and embroidered metal boards, a high-tech hard disk, and what, so they say, will be the most precise system of lenses in the world.
You wait, patiently. Your senses are still dim; the small optic is weak, whereas touch, smell and taste won't exist in your world.
Most of all, you hear. You hear their speeches, you hear their laughs; you hear a male voice repeating orders, as your supervisors type them in. Simple instructions – simple footage of experiments, with audio comment.
watch - and - learn
Always, every working day, you hear them say that you will become something great. You believe it – it is a fact, a truth like any other.
A night you can
aprilspring laid out bareapril2 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
on the living room floor
music deep in bottles
it was not
a good time
to fall in love.
in cold weather
he had been too shy
he loaded his stare
into the television
in the morning
CagedIron bars or paneled walls?Caged3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lonely perches or empty halls?
The only difference between me and that bird is
the size of the cage
I used to be that broken one...You don’t deserve my tearsI used to be that broken one...2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My sadness or happiness
None of it
Do you hear me?
You deserve nothing of this
You ruined me
Brought just misery
And it’s killing me
Part by part unstoppably
I scream at night
I laugh into the mirror
I pray for light
But I’m a sinner
I left behind
Everything between us
And I’m not alright
I’m just a failure
I had my chance
And I ripped your heart
I made it stop
I laugh at you
Crying out loud
Forgive me or better not
But I will never ever stop
Better look me in the eye
And take away my empty life
Go, take it, don’t hesitate
Started to ruin, so finish it
Do it, don’t make me wait
I know you will get over it
But I am done
No longer want to participate
In this quest of love and hate
Thursday Night Escape- Part 5 Part Five-Thursday Night Escape- Part 52 years ago in Drama More Like This
(Name)’s eyes slowly cracked open. She groaned and stared up at the ceiling. Where was she? The last she remembered was falling in front of someone’s house. Looking to her left, she saw one of the two people she actually liked, Sollux. He was holding her hand while sleeping with his face buried in the crook of his arm, his head lying on the bed (Name) was on. The broken girl smiled and lifted her right hand to brush some hair out of his face and saw it entombed in white plaster. She stared at it, confused. Why was her hand in a cast? She doesn’t remember getting hurt, maybe she accidentally fell out of a tree or something, though she knew that wasn’t the case. She may not remember how it happened, but she knew that it had to do with her mother. Her mother, her ever hateful mother had something to do with this, she just knew it. Taking a big breath, (Name) winced. Why does it hurt to breath and why is a breathing thingy in her nose? Why didn
Dave x Reader: No Heaven[THE OUTSKIRTS OF HOUSTON, TEXAS @ 10:43 A.M.]Dave x Reader: No Heaven2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Oh Lord (oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord)...
Oh boy, oh well I told you
Well I told you, but I thought you'd know
“I fucking told you it was coming, Strider!”
“Does that really matter now? Grab the weapons and run!”
You yanked the machine guns off the wall, loading them and throwing one to Dave.
There ain't no heaven
Oh Lord, there ain't no heaven
There ain't no heaven
On the county road
They were everywhere. Who knew a little-
Well, it wasn't little. When the powerplant exploded, the disease spread through nearly half the nation overnight. The few survivors could be infected any minute. And what would they become?
“What type a’ cliche apocalypse is this?”
Don't talk about it
Oh boy, don't talk about it
Don't talk about it
If you do, I'll cry
“So what do you think happened in there that caused it to explode?”
“I don’t know, but there&
I Don't Want To Fight AnymoreUnable to put into words the rightI Don't Want To Fight Anymore3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sentiment to express the need to
cease the strife and end the
turmoil, a few syllables out
of place and a chat between
friends becomes a battlefield,
laden with mines
The best intentions crystallized,
into sharpest knives that pierce
the hull of a sinking friendship,
a setting red giant, a dying star's
Hopeless apologies and empty promises
only serve as salt in the gaping wound,
left where someone close to heart
tore themself away
a two-edged sword, is amity, for when it
crumbles the ruination engulfs both
poor souls who entrusted their thoughts
to one another, a fatal mistake as both
go down in flames.
Character's Plea to a Lazy Writer“Don’t leave me. Please,” he begged.Character's Plea to a Lazy Writer1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I sighed. “I have to. I don’t even know what I’m doing…”
“No one does, that’s the point! It’s a learning experience, and honey, you’re losing.”
“I’ve barely even done anything!”
“And that’s the problem. You can’t give up now! If you do, I’ll….”
“I’ll ruin my life.”
“I’m serious. Without you, I’m nothing.”
“You’ll be fine, Luke.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll become an alcoholic.”
“Sure you will.”
“And I’ll sleep with tons of women.”
“Not my problem.”
“And…I’ll…become an angry cat lady.”
“You’d need to be a woman for that.”
He pouted, grabbing my abandoned pencil and throwing it across the table
summer, sweat and sequinsThe dream-catcher rain collects on your lashes,summer, sweat and sequins2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sparkling like a pretty little swearword
or the misunderstood promise of things
like charcoal and Eastwick sunsets.
I dreamed about you again; standing in my room,
tearing apart pictures from vintage magazines
and taping them to the Oxford blue Aquarius wall.
With teak hair glistening in
the silver dollar light of an autumn moon,
you were like a constellation come to life
with round shoulders pale and sinewy,
neck and chest polished to
excite filthy dreaming and
dragonfly green irises filled with
a lost reality gleaming rebelliously
in a post-nocturnal moment.
Like motels lining your skin,
the flowers in your rib cage
reflected in my gritty city mind.
But you were an illusion that dissolved
like powdery fairy tales when the alarm
clock went off at 7 am Monday morning.
Surrounded by beige walls
and mismatched windows,
I now pretend that it's
your bronze forest of flesh
skimming beneath my fingers
instead of this protractor
and each little
The Best of Both WorldsThe Best of Both Worlds6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Secret Origins, Chapter Nine: The Best of Both Worlds
EXCERPT FROM POES AUTOBIOGRAPHY OUT OF THE NEST
(No publisher yet. Any takers?)
I have a difficult relationship with my mother.
I wouldnt say I hate her, far from it! And Id like to believe that she doesnt hate me either. But its obvious that shes somewhat disappointed with me. And the sad thing is that she appears to have a rather petty reason (in my honest opinion) for being disappointed with me.
That being that Im not an ordinary crow. I discovered very early in my life that I had the gift of speech, and I used it often. I thought my mother would be proud. How was I supp
SPN: Family Tides - Ch.2SPN: Family Tides - Ch.24 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Supernatural Family Tides
Kim Anna Marie grabbed onto a handful of tissues as Sam and Dean waited for her to calm down before asking her some questions. As soon as they got into Kim's home and mentioned her daughter's name, she broke down crying. Sam felt guilty for saying Alice's name and for making Kim cry. As for Dean, he just wanted her to start answering questions other than crying anymore.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cry in front of you officers." Kim wiped her eyes with the tissues and took a deep breath.
"It's alright. I understand." Sam smiled at her as he patted her hand softly.
"Oh dear, you must have some questions for me?" she tried to smile but failed miserably.
"When was the last time you spoken or saw your daughter?" Sam asked as he flipped open his small notepad.
Kim closed her withered eyes. "I haven't seen her in months but I have talked to her the day before she died."
The DancerThe Dancer4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are an unidentifiable figure,
Flitting and twirling across the stage,
Lingering before the boundary of light and shadow,
Grinning as you watch those illuminated stumble.
The audience watches as you spin out past the curtain,
Oblivious to your secret life backstage.
Unable to hear the slander you whisper to your peers,
Engrossed only by the dancer onstage who trips.
The dancer flees the stage after her brief spell before the crowd,
Biting her fist to hold back her tears,
Having lost an opportunity to redeem herself,
Distracted by the escalating scandal among her company.
The dancer composes herself,
Ignoring the malicious glances cast toward her,
Pretending to be deaf to the hushed snickers,
Striding past in search of reconciliation.
The dancer finds you in the darkness,
Enveloped in the embrace of an unknown man,
Breathing promises of forever in his ear,
Charming him with your sweet smile and delicate touch.
The audience observes the dancer's elegant reentrance,
A Gift, A Curse, A Fiend.A Gift, A Curse, A Fiend.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Show me the sense in your behavior.
Let me see the dignity within your arrogance.
Or is there anything of significance at all?
Can you not prove the invalid points,
that you so violently attempt to make?
Or should be so obvious to me,
That you are truely oblivious
to the Hell around you.
There is no purpose.
There is no cause.
There is no Reason.
The only thing that derives from your acts,
Are the effects of hate and idiocy it has.
You are so vane and corrupt...All must be for you,
Yet like that of a spoiled child,
gifts of kinds any, shall never please you.
Such a shame that you've let your pride consume you.
For your potential is wasted, and your desires are flawed.
Ethically, you are wasted, morally you are destroyed...
May your vanity change you for better or worse,
Lest you should take off this mask of yours,
God forbid, pride is simply the mask of arrogance.
At least something that means something to me,
is something at all.
Andromeda on CassiopeiaI am an unripe novaAndromeda on Cassiopeia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
born of a blossom-warm womb
tucked in my mother's bosom-
I was prematurely plucked.
Thanks to my mother's harm
I never learned of love-
only of being adored.
Adorned with endless diamonds,
I am worshiped in light-years.