I Am Here Lullaby - PLEASE DON'T STEALI Am Here Lullaby - PLEASE DON'T STEAL2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I Am Here
Do not fear
I am here, I am here
Do not cry,
You must try
I am here, I am here
Take my hand,
Walk with me to the willow
Let the stars shine bright
Lay your head upon the pillow.
Do not fear, dream in peace tonight.
Do not cry,
You must try,
I am here, I am here
Do not fear.
I am here, I am here.
Let the stars shine bright,
Let them guide you,
through the night.
Do not fear,
I am here.
At The Other End of the BulletThey say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. Well, that didn't really happen to me. I remember it hurting; a searing pain in the back of my mind, and then it was all over...At The Other End of the Bullet11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I found myself floating, drifting high above the battlefield. My feet touched something that felt like an invisible glass floor, and soon I found that I was able to stand on it. It took awhile to get over my fear of heights, but once I did; I opened my eyes and just, watched, as the entire world carried on.
Funnily enough, I didn't feel much of anything at the time. I guess they tend to play it up in the movies. They always show that people remain angry, that people have feelings of wanting to do something or to accomplish something. But once you're gone, you don't actually feel much of that.
Instead, I remember being calm. I was very calm after that final moment. I would poke my head every now and again, thinking that the skin would feel raw, but other than that; I was alright. I
Just Smile...Perhaps I should confess to you,Just Smile...10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
That I am trapped within this box of crushing insecurity...
Screaming as I shatter my nails against the wall.
But I'm sure you'll tell me to just smile and wave.
Circus: The Bearded WomanI do not conform,Circus: The Bearded Woman11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
this is not by choice but by condition.
When people look at me
they see a freak, a travesty
As do I
but not for the same reasons as them.
Those who gawp
and gape and grunt
gruesome words at me.
They see my wiry beard
affixed to my delicate jaw and cheeks;
they laugh and laugh
and laugh at The Bearded Lady.
They see imperfection
on such a superficial irrelevant level
as they spin me in my cage
to get a better look
at my flaws.
Hair growing on my face
doesn't make me broken, or damaged.
The cysts do;
popping tiny kernels in my ovaries
and flushing hormones through me
these are the things I worry about
while others mock me for my features -
and take photos for mementos
of their time at the circus.
I don't care about the beard
I care about the children,
bearded or otherwise, I'll never have,
and the ache for their limbs
entangled in my arms,
their breath on my skin.
Who cares about a preconceived --
( unable to conceive ? )
- notion of beauty
mother, i...mother, i...mother, i...5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
to a six-year-old
a hospital is just fun
a new place to explore
and pretend that vending machines
make everything taste better
and it's an adventure
to wash hands and somehow
keep Mom safe from
the pathogen that i am
but somehow the fact that
you can no longer hold me
is scarier than the scar
stretching across your stomach, dimpled
at each end and accompanied
by stretch marks (at least
one tenth of those
are my fault)
doesn't include word problems
or fear of cancer
because Mom is all-powerful
and she doesn't run from things
(they run from her and hide
hoping to wait out discipline
from work-seasoned hands)
it took fourteen years of experience
to realize that a 50% chance
i will have your scars
just so long as you will hold me
[and it's okay if i don't survive
because you did]
Untitled Tiger Project Part 1Untitled Tiger Project Part 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The strange feeling came over the tigress Penumbra once again. Her paws tingled, her charcoal hair rose as if electrified, and her body felt faintly as if it were being constricted by the air around her. She flicked her ears in irritation, but she was too used to the phenomenon to express actual alarm. She didn't even bother to raise her head off of her single broad foreleg. The sensation would pass, as it always did, and she paid little mind to it.
It was the water leaking from the rusted pipe above her head that caught her interest, though. She had been absent-mindedly watching the pure water fall, drop by drop, from the peripherals of her vision. Now the rhythmic, predictable dripping slowed until it stopped. Then, in defiance of every law of fluid dynamics that Penumbra knew, the drops of water began to rise from the floor and slip back into the pipe. Penumbra stiffened and swivelled her head to watch.
Equestria Girls - Big brother's watching youHe tapped at the window to mark the seconds as they passed. He hated waiting, but he knew that it was important that he do so. This was a conversation that was needed, even though he was certain that he'd probably get in trouble for it later. Shining Armour, former captain of the Equestrian royal guard, and current co-ruler of the Crystal Empire alongside his wife, Princess Cadence. He was in his office, in the royal palace of the Empire's crystal city, looking out of the balcony-window at the city below.Equestria Girls - Big brother's watching you1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It had been over a year since the two of them had taken the throne of this place, but they had settled into their roles well. Having had a military background, Shining had taken on the role of instructor of the nation's new guards, and they'd all turned out well. And speaking of the guards, it was that which now concerned him. For it had recently come to his attention that one of his guards had been seen doing something that, needless to say, had surprised the stallion a great deal.
Autumn DreamsAutumn Dreams7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
To the artist, and to the real Rosamund...
Autumn dreams of rain,
of softly falling dew, moist enough to
drench the thirsting, yearning pain,
and of starry, glass-eyed drops in lieu
of bittersweet winds and the stain
of leaves – so all the night through,
Autumn dreams of rain.
The last time Rosamund went out on the rowboat, she was six and called it the rowing boat because that’s what her grandad from England called it. She took with her an already-opened umbrella in case it rained, and wore her favourite dress with her favourite coat and second-favourite scarf (nothing matched) because it was chilly out. She had socks on before she remembered that she hadn’t put her shoes away and didn’t know where they were. So she wore socks but no shoes. And that was how she went out on the rowboat.
I should know, I watched her.
She went out the backdoor, balanced precariously on tiptoe, and crept down the pathway, to where the river lapped too loud to ignore.
desolateyou are a broken house with smashed windowsdesolate7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and ivy growing between your fingers
you are fragile and with every
creaking footstep on the stairs you pray so
hard that you have let the right one in
there will be people,
people with minds so blissfully ignorant that
they walk right through you and do not
see the splintered furniture residing within your
body, you are invisible to them,
you wonder if you are even there
but then there are other people -
people worth staying standing for,
people who will walk in and gently run their
fingers along the parts of yourself that
you forgot were even there,
people who will explore your anatomy like
it is an undiscovered world.
let them find the stale cup of water you left
beneath your bed 5 months ago,
let them find the brittle treasures you hide
in your fireplace, and how you masochistically
adore the way that you could just
catch on fire at any
but do not let them break you,
not ever again.
Trees know how to be braveThe trees are resigned to dyingTrees know how to be brave10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and still they do not shrivel
against the brutal winds of August.
They reach out. Reach up. Grasp.
They etch out, as veins,
into the tender flesh of the sky
and pierce the sun with broken fingers
trying hard to warm aching bones
for their first and final days
of a life as a skeletal dream.
Trees know that tragedy is not death
but what we let die in us, in life.
Everything is Cliche these daysEverything is Cliche these days6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everything is cliché these days
Everything is cliché these days
Nothing can be true
Falling in love is cliché these days
Saying I love you
Nothing is not cliché these days
Everything is fake
Romantic days are cliché these days
Boat trip on the lake
Every emotion is cliché these days
Trusting is cliché these days
No lie is not cliché these days
Every fake strained smile
Fearing is cliché these days
When you’re busy for a while
Every tale is cliché these days
Nothing ever stays
Broken hearts are cliché these days
Going our separate ways
Surprises will surprise these days
Flowers near my door
People can surprise these days
A letter on my floor
“Love can be cliché these days
Trusting is an iss
Cronus/Kankri: RebellingKankri sat on a park bench, hand-in-hand with Cronus, examining the pretty scenery. The leaves on the trees were turning yellows, reds, and browns as fall was coming fast in the small neighborhood. Children jumped in small piles of leaves, giggling and crying out with glee. It made Kankri feel good seeing all these kids having such a wonderful time together in harmony.Cronus/Kankri: Rebelling11 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
The parents, however, weren’t having a great time seeing Cronus and Kankri sitting in their children’s play area.
Cronus sat on the bench, completely oblivious to all the attention his candy cigarette was attracting. Of course, he wouldn’t have cared even if he had noticed. It was his style, and he was known for being rebellious against ‘the man’ or any other adults that stood in his way.
Kankri easily noticed all the stares and decided to speak up. “Cronus, that candy cigarette is drawing the wrong kind of attention to us. I would appreciate it if you threw it out while we’re in
Awareness.She writes such lovely poemsAwareness.9 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But nobody really cares
She hides them all the time
To avoid the judging stares
She wrote one yesterday
About a boy who said he loved her
But to her own dismay
She caught him with another
She wrote one about school
And the words painted on her locker
“No one likes you, stupid bitch.
You’re lucky I’m at soccer.”
She wrote about her parents
And how she wished they were together
But she knows that won’t ever happen
And forgetting’s probably better
Yes, she writes such lovely poems
But there’s so much more to this
See, her pencil is a razor
And the paper is her wrist.
Paper PlanesWe use to fold paper planes togetherPaper Planes6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
By the dinner table after supper.
Once we finished we would write our deepest desires into them
And then throw them into open space.
We would watch as they glided their way
Across the plains.
We would see which one of our planes flew the farthest.
Which one of our dreams went further.
But that too
Like everything in life.
I got older
But I never grew up.
I got busy.
And you did too.
Our conversations now can be put into three categories:
Greetings, food and farewells.
Somehow, we’re both okay with that.
I sometimes pray to the same God that you say you once knew
To the one you still wear around neck
In hopes that maybe, one day,
Things will return
To how they once were.
See, ‘cause the plane that was suppose
To take me from my child to adulthood
Still hasn’t landed. Delayed
By a storm I cannot define.
And I don’t plan on ever leaving the roof
How could I? When I feel
This is Never a LamentYou walked home from the doctor's, your last half hour in sunshine and fresh air for more than a month. I think I'd offered to drive you, but you wanted to walk. I guess it turned out better that way.This is Never a Lament8 months ago in Emotional More Like This
I took you to the hospital. No supper; I took along some dried fruits and cookies and a stick of meat to chew on as I waited, along with a few pieces of chocolate. I had nothing to drink, but I managed by taking only one bite at a time, whenever I was bored and needed something in my mouth to distract me, and chewing it for minutes before I swallowed.
I offered you half a cookie and a slice of dried apple. That was the last real food you'd have for days. Your stomach was yellow and hurting; we hoped it would be something quickly fixed, just jaundice, but they kept you overnight. I drove home alone, with half a sack of cookie-crumb-chocolate and apple rings taking up your space on the passenger seat.
(Or perhaps this was the second time; I can't remember, but I think at least twice we to
Forget Me NotForget Me Not11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blue little blossoms
That I keep pressed in my books
A faded tint of blue
But I kept them all these years
After all, you moved away but you returned.
I remember Valentine's Day
You had gotten be a bouquet of roses
With lacy white flowers springing
From the sides
And tucked in the ribbon
Was a sprig of Forget Me Not
You were always so cliche
Then again I was a hopeless romantic
So it suited the both of us
And every year you would do something
Romantic and charming
And I was hopelessly in love with you.
I still am.
And here I am by your side
Dressed in pure white,
A pearl pin of my grandmother's in my hair,
A thin silk veil covering my eyes,
A silver necklace borrowed from a friend,
A blue bouquet of Forget Me Nots in my hand.
Surrounded by family and friends.
I will love you always,
and be with you always
Through all the tears, and joys
Whatever life decides to throw at us.
I promise you this from my heart,