HospitalHospital3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I hate hospitals."
"They're always trying to hide."
"What do you mean by 'hide'?"
"You smell that?"
"Yea. Smells clean."
"I hate that smell."
"It's too clean. It's like they're trying to hide the fact that people die here."
"Well that's morbid..."
"It's the truth."
"Would you rather it smell like germs and corpses?"
"No. But that's not the point."
"What is your point?"
"It's all just too... pleasant."
"Well yea. Hospitals are meant to help people. They're supposed to be pleasant."
"...You've never had a love one die, have you?"
"No one should have to sit and watch the world spin on as if the person they love never existed."
Dear GeorgeDear George,Dear George4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
I know that you are wondering whatever to that letter Mum told you to write. You think that you might have lost it, might have thrown it away on accident, or that Mum has it somewhere. But honestly, isn't that all a bit stupid, George?
I have it. You might think that this is a cruel prank that Ron is pulling on you, but it's not. Fred Weasley is the only one who makes cruel pranks. Yes George, Fred the perfect angel has it. I've been reading it non-stop. I just can't stop reading it.
I realized that things would be different when I died. Everything about you would be different, and that was the one thing on my mind when I died. How you would be alone, how you wouldn't be a twin anymore. I ruined our plans of dying at the exact same moment. Nobody would hear anything from the more handsome and charismatic twin ever again.
It's quite fun up here, actually. Tonks and I have to constantly remind Lupin that he is now with his friends and now he won't be turning in to any wolf a
mommy's roommommy's room smells like hospitality.mommy's room6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
that's what julia thought it was called anyway. it smelled like the perfume that mommy wore on special occasions and when she had company. it smelled like cinnamon and ginger and fancy people.
the 8 year old wrinkled her nose as she walked into the room, shoving the folding doors to the side with a smile. this wasn't mommy's room anymore, just her closet. her dressing room. julia grinned. mommy's a movie star, she whispered, then giggled.
julia's mother wasn't a movie star. she was just a mommy.
daddy said that mommy didn't need a dressing room, daddy said that it was bigger than his daughter's rooms and it didn't make sense that a grown woman needed two rooms for herself. mommy said that she did need it, and that they weren't using the god damn room for anything else, so why couldn't she feel pretty for once in her life and why didn't he love her anymore.
julia's excitement grew as she saw the mirror. it wa
All I Will Ever BeWhat I amAll I Will Ever Be2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is nothing more than a grain of sand
in a desert filled with endless dunes.
I am nothing
compared to the endless oceans
that are filled with endless depths.
I cannot compare
to the trunks of the trees,
for they will always reach what I cannot.
Nothing am I
to the solar eclipses,
which will cover more than my mind ever will.
Nor am I
the same as any human being,
for I am just me, and that is all I will ever be.
I remember flyingI remember having wings as a child. I had wings so large and so strong that they could lift me off the ground. I remember using them to fly.I remember flying3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I flew wherever and whenever I wished. I flew to the Caribbean to fight a pirate with a blade, to the jungles of the amazon as an explorer's aide, to castles in europe to serve a king, to mountains, to the savanna, to the tropics, to the Sahara and to distant lands unexplainable and adventures unbelievable. Once I even went back in time and tamed a dinosaur immediately before I sailed with Christopher Columbus to America. Okay, okay -- I probably went back in time and tamed a dinosaur a bit more than just once but could you blame me?
I remember no boundaries, no limitations to where my wings could take me. My wings took me anywhere I wanted. I was free.
You're probably thinking I'm kidding or maybe you're probably thinking worse -- that I'm a liar? I mean, it's ridiculous isn't it? Listening to a story about childhood wings sounds absurd isn't it?
It is 10:50 p.m.9:06 p.m.It is 10:50 p.m.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the eyes in the mirror won't stop staring back at me.
is that really me?
those can't be my lips. they're too ugly.
and my cheeks. who would ever want to caress those things?
i need to get up. goddammit, stop looking at yourself!
no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
hah. i've become like narcissus. wonder where my echo is?
fuck. fuck this. fuck me. fuck everyone.
why can't this all just stop already?
don't you dare cry you pathetic, ugly, disgusting creature.
i'll never find what i wa
burnt.the ghost of your fingersburnt.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
still dance over my chest
and I do believe I've begun
to fall, fall, fall in love.
because I woke up last night
looked for you by my side
felt my heart sink,
as I saw you weren't there
yet you seem to be everywhere
that girl smells like you
that song is one you love
that child has eyes like yours
like the ocean
like the sky
like the memory of our yesterday.
I could lose you today
and I will cry and miss you so
I could lose you when we're grey
but I'll take you with me when I go
In a soft leather box
housing your letters and your loves
and your sorrows and your highs above.
and i could never leave your side
SuicideIts the cowards way out,Suicide8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But Im so tired of being strong.
Its hard living everyday,
Wanting only to break down.
Its a sin says mom,
Its an illness says dad.
And my little baby brother,
Cant help but give a frown.
I want to be perfect,
Someone people like.
But Im such a tangled mess,
That cant do anything right.
Pills will fix the problem,
Says my best friend one day.
But I wonder if she knows
What I think of every night.
I dont have marks on my arms,
And I havent tried a million times.
But I look at every knife and ledge,
And lake wanting to drown.
CigarettesI hate the smell of cigarettes, but it works on her, somehow. She just seems to be someone who would smell like them, even if you've never seen her smoke, which is an experience in and of itself.Cigarettes8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Her name is Jamie, and she hates just about everything.
She smokes like she has a personal vendetta against the cigarette, like she wants it to burn into nothing as soon as it possibly can, like she wants to not just kill it, but the very idea of it.
She does everything the same way. Well, nearly everything.
She kisses gently, softly, like it's the only thing she can do, ever, and the only thing that even matters.
She tastes like what she smokes, and it's the closest I get to actually smoking anything. She knows I don't, and only offered me one, when we first met.
I do always have a lighter, though. She forgets hers, and sometimes, she just really wants to murder one.
I've tried to smoke with her, but I really just can't do it. But she does, and I think the nicotine sticks, because
How You Remind MeWhy must you remindHow You Remind Me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the past I left behind?
You make the faces in the wind
howl their stinging reprimand,
Why must you remind
of the light I failed to find?
Complete blindness without a spark
forged my chains within the dark,
Why must you remind
of the angel who was so kind?
The warmth of fire in her eyes
only hastened her burning demise,
Why must you remind
of the voice that would always grind?
The words of a snake that learned to bark
never failed to find their mark,
Why must you remind
of the soul that has resigned?
The one person who I cannot see
the one person who is me.
open-endedThere is something quietly unsettlingopen-ended2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that leaves me vulnerable and suspicious
and brings to mind
the creatures clawing at my door
and I am unsafe
the fire has died, the air is still
I cannot see my hand an inch from my face
Branches catch and bite at my skin
Lacerations and welts
Bloody and stinging
my thoughts are too loud
I think they can hear my heart.
LoveLove is like the ocean;Love2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one moment a calm, liquid plain,
the next a torrent of mountains
that crashes down
and tears itself apart.
Breeding ResentmentToday I saw an overweight man, having a meal at Burger King.Breeding Resentment2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I thought: You obese, fat, slobbering glutton. The way you look makes me sick.
Today I saw a group of teenagers laughing noisily in the subway, pushing and shoving each other.
I thought: You obnoxious, stupid, futureless idiots. You have no idea what the real world is like.
Today I saw a child no older than four, lost and crying, shrieking for his mother.
I thought: You noisy, parasitic, whiny monster. Your every need is taken care of, but still you throw tantrums.
Today I saw a retiree hobbling through the park, holding on tight to his walking stick.
I thought: You wrinkled, over-the-hill, waste of space. Life has passed you by so easily.
Today I saw a poor man asleep on the streets, dressed in rags, unkempt and unshaven.
I thought: You booze-addled, filthy, lazy pig. People like you are burdens on the rest of us.
Today I saw a rich man in a tailored suit, on his way to work, hair slicked b
history remembers.i.history remembers.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
history repeats itself.
i realize this the fourth time i find myself on a couch
with the head of a boy i don’t know
between my stiff, nonresponding legs.
i realize this on the third sip of alcohol. on the fourth.
the fifth. the eleventh. the first time i black out. the eighth.
history repeats itself
and i am napoleon marching across russia
and i only pretend the water is poisoned.
i only pretend the earth is burned to ground.
i pretend that destruction is inevitable
and that help is not an option.
we got close, him and i.
sometimes you get so close to a person
you can feel their lips stiffen
when you try to kiss them.
sometimes you get close to a person,
under them, between damp sheets.
they never stop believing
that you are beneath them.
“help me,” he says. i say okay.
he tells me to sleep with him later
so i say the wrong name in bed,
but so does he;
he means it,
i say it because it’s the only way i can
unfilteredtake a drink,unfiltered2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and forget for a moment that you aren't breathing.
you comb starlight;
these sunset broken tea leaves
bleed into the sky,
filling, filling, filling
in the cracks where the darkness is unfiltered
like black coffee,
too strong for your heart to take, tonight.
take another drink,
bleed another verse and remember what your shelves
are filled with, remember all those letters
that they wrote to you, postcards from the places
that in their sandpaper callousness
you have never been
(and bleed again,
just another nicked artery
hemorrhaging into facsimile
and tell me -
can you taste it yet?)
thingsi hope you realizethings2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the light you saw in my eyes
was nothing but your own reflection
a poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mindit isn't like i'ma poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mind2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lazy or anything it's just that
the thought of getting lost
in a crowd of ten or more people
makes me want to puke.
this is not just some
stupid little hang-up that you can
joke about when i'm
digging my fingernails into my palm so
hard that blood is drawn as we walk through
school hallways so packed that it feels
like we're suffocating from too much
oxygen but i just grit my teeth and
laugh "yeah, i know, i just don't like
being around people sometimes."
but you know,
there's just something about the way
my mother says "go out and have a life
and stop looking like the world
betrays you every day"
that makes my stomach drop
or when my dad looks at me and just
sighs, like they've finally realized
i was never good enough to be
and to everyone who believes that
i just need to relax,
to just calm down and think:
fuck you. fuck you for trying to pretend
like you know how it feels when my
bones grind together like broken
gears as i walk by people who may
Paper Futureswon't you give me your timePaper Futures2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because i'm tired and i'm wasting
and i can never understand
where you've brought me to
and as my days roll by
i've learnt that the past has passed
perhaps one day you'll grasp
what you mean to me
won't you settle down
and be quiet with me
close your eyes and hold your tongue
and listen for your heart
stay with me forever, lover
stay with me now
because you're the first beautiful thing
i got stuck on.
won't you smile for me
because i always think of you
in the strangest of times
imagine us waking up in the morning
come out with me in the rain
and be brave with me
because you give me your courage
and i find great comfort in you.
Suicide NoteDear friend, dear family, dear all whom I hate.Suicide Note9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This is my chance... My time to escape...
My time to shine, I've just crossed the line.
I swallowed some pills and am slowly dying.
I've taken my life, with no kind of regret.
I came to realize, my life isn't shit.
Reality hates me, fantasy ignores me.
But this shiny little knife, all but adores me.
I cut my wrists, my blood falling into mists.
The vein slowly hisses, as I look into abysses.
I draw the steel, from is red warm womb.
Trail the blood on this note, spelling out "Doom".
I cry acid tears, they burn out my eyes.
They take the sights away from this world I despise.
I still feel the pain, I still hear the torrment.
As my soul in my body, still remains dorment.
I get out the rope, tie up the noose.
I've remained here far to long, it's time to be set loose.
I hang my head is sorrow, bidding my farwell.
I jump off the chair, and fall down to Hell...
lilith's edenmy soul is an inside joke;lilith's eden4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you would've had to have been there.
(i don't have a balcony on which i can lean and think deep thoughts, but;
the world will only ever be as it is.
time is not something
which moves inside of us, but it passes
through us uncaringly and does not exist in seconds or years.
space is not something
which is filled or displaced, it is simply
too strong to be pushed around by our bodies.)
you know, The Parting Lady's final words before she left us were that "It is not difficult to simply go."
(she was right. she would've been right. she had been right.)
don't ever skip stonesrecognize this phenomenon for what it is;
if there are hundreds which leave by sea then
there are no doubt thousands which leave by sky.
based on a true storyLove is a morning in July. Warm, free, and full of promise. Maybe I say that because I always fall in love in July. Maybe I've just convinced myself it's like that.based on a true story2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I check my hand. Still nothing. No matter how hard I try, it won't come back. The ink was permanent. It's the skin that isn't.
It kills me to think that I have been losing pieces of you for the past six years. Your hand and mine, they almost haven't touched, and then what will I have? Seven hundred photographs of you and I - you like a Cadillac, smile painted by Da Vinci, me a bewildered sparrow, just trying to hang on, to make you think I matter.
I close my eyes.
I remember crossing a street in Paris. Earbuds - you got one, I got one. (I keep telling myself: stay close. She is pretty but you are sharing something.) But we didn't hold hands. We both had angels in our heads, and in our lips, at least before we drank the wine.
Stop, stop, stop - Germany tells me that I don't take my chances, Con
Hard Won SunshineOn a good day,Hard Won Sunshine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've got sunshine in my veins.
A backlit smile,
And a spring in my step.
And people don’t think
I’ve ever known…
Faces in the night,
Looking for me.
Shadows on my face,
From lack of sleep.
People rarely think…
Of the ash in your bones,
The tar clogging up your thoughts,
And blocking out the light.
But what people think…
About how your skin
Feels tight when you smile…
What matters is…
It never stops.
It never gets easier.
Bad things will happen.
But if you can wait it out,
Last just a bit longer than you think you can.
You will get stronger.
And things will get better.
It might seem impossible,
But whatever you do,
Don’t give up.
Because I’ve been there,
Lost in the darkness.
So far down I thought I’d never get out.
I know how hard it is to keep fighting.
But I also know…
That you can do it.
Believe in yourself,
You are greater than you know.
Medieval MisconceptionsHeavy, cumbersome swordsMedieval Misconceptions9 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
- The issue of weight seems to be one of the most commonly mistaken aspects of medieval combat. Smiths all made swords slightly differently and each fighter had his own preferences. It is impossible to generalize when it comes to the technology of an entire continent from c/ 500-1500 AD, and both very heavy and very light swords existed. In terms of what was typical, though,, here’s a rough guide to averaged:
Single-handed sword (aka sword) - 2.5 pounds
Hand-and-a-half (aka bastard sword) 2.5-3 lbs
Two-hander (aka longsword) - 3 to 3.5 pounds.
The absolute largest swords still rarely hit the 5-pound mark. These were designed to serve very specific tactical functions on the battlefield and were not intended for general-use purposes. Experience showed smiths and warriors that this was the ideal weight range for their weapon. It’s essentially natural selection at work: people whose swords were too light or too heavy went off to battle and
if i could.1.if i could.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i’ll be honest with you;
there is a certain authority to being
somebody said once that writers struggle with reality
because we spend all of our time
constructing our own.
the truth is, life may be impermanent
but the details are not.
time has one direction
the past cannot be revisited
and history cannot be redone
with a red pen.
what happens, happens.
we are walking permanent records
that can never be expunged.
no matter how many orphans we pull from fires
no matter how many dying children we sing to
we still made our mother cry once
we still let our little brothers find us passed out
on the front porch when we were nineteen.
imagination is our primary retreat
because there, that boy does fall in love with us
and our first kiss is not spit on our chins
or misses landing on our nose
(maybe there are waves crashing in the background)
and we say everything right.
there, we have crafted a version of ourselves
that lives perfectly.
“if i could,” someon