InsomniaBurn it allInsomnia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Heads will fall
And I will call
And evil dreams
Feel the rage
Feel the pain
That kills you
So have some fun
Let blood run
'Cause death will come
He and SheHe was religion,He and She2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she was the world,
it took her a while,
but she slowly believed.
His verses filled her with a hope,
beyond her wildest dreams.
He was love,
She was society.
He seeped in her structures
built skyscrapers in her skies
and mended the cracks in her fragile bones
He was imagination,
and she was insanity.
together they were the spark
of an idea, that ignited
a blaze on her mountain peaks
He was the winter,
and she warmed him up.
She was the summer,
and he was her shade.
They blended together,
a match set by fate.
Their path was dark,
so they lit a candle
and were burned by its flames.
The autumn of their love
turned into falling leaves,
and she was the victim
of a passion that killed her
in her early years of spring.
Through the looking glassIs this all real?Through the looking glass3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What is this sensation we feel?
Are we just reliving the life we once lived?
Did we die already and just get revived?
Who once decided what's left and right?
Who sees everything in black or white?
Is this whole world just a dream?
Is this all part of some scheme?
The answers to the questions were not written in ink
It always changes no matter how much you think
Because you're neither right nor wrong
People have been searching for answers for so long
Laws and rules,
Are just some of our tools
Tools to make this world seem more vast
If they are not believed in then they are just the past
Do we have some weird ideal?
Are we nothing yet real?
An answer is that ''we are'' therefore we exist
But that doesn't always mean we can coexist
Searching for answers can lead us to depression
But when we find the answer, do we remember what is the question?
suicideHave you ever wanted to die?suicide4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That you stood in the bathroom
A knife or a razor blade in hand
Maybe a boodle of pills
And a glass of water
And you stared at the mirror
Just wishing you'd die
But then you started to think
About your mom and your dad
Your sisters and brothers
Your nephews and nieces
All of your friends
And you put down the knife or the razor blade
You put away the pills
And you walked away
Acting like nothing ever happened
But the thoughts of your family and friends
Never stay for long
Day's week's maybe months later
Your back to thinking about suicide and death
A word of advice...A word of advice...2 months ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
YOU! HEY YOU! YES, YOU, READING THIS ON YOUR PC / LAPTOP / TABLET / PHONE OR WHATEVER YOU'RE READING THIS FROM! I HAVE A FEW THINGS THAT I HAVE TO SAY TO YOU! SO LISTEN UP, AND MAKE SURE YOU GET THIS THROUGH YOUR HEAD:
You can make it in drawing, writing or in art in general. Trust me. I know this from my own personal experience what it's like to go from nothing to decent in art and over the months, I've gotten a lot of exposure on my art! (But let me tell you, it's NOT all about the popularity...it's about enjoying what you do and the good feeling of making others happy with it.)
Circa 2008, my drawings weren't even recognisable as manga. They looked like...well, let's just say I have nothing to compare them to, nor the words to describe them! I was told by most people I know that I was crap at drawing, and that I'd never get anywhere with it. Especially getting a career. (A few people sugar-coated the truth, but you could tell they thought they were aw
divine silencespearsdivine silence2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
those fragile moments I spent etching my prayers into my skin,
holding them up like gifts for a mute god to see, blood collapsing
ly be dead
Fleeting BeautyFleeting Beauty2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On this bridge whose floor is full of whispers
Love padlocks reveal me their stories as I walk along this shivering fence
Into a realm of promises sealed for eternity
Lying on the bench, my fellow cocoon
My gaze to the orange sky, chubby birds, morning mist
My back to the Seine, flowing muse among silent oaks
Youthful laughters around me, drunk of their genuine happiness
Blind sound of water is pounding
Your heels' melody brings my heart's colours back
I daydream I could be your Paris' lover
And wander where the blue blowing wind will decide
Sitting on a quay, an old photographer sealing us forever
Beauty that blinds and expectation that gnaws
I crave your womanly presence
To some people.To some people, it’s called breathing.To some people.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To me, it’s called inhaling poison,
Which drenches my lungs and sinks into my bones
And melts into my mind.
To some people, it’s called anxiety.
To me, it’s called an unbearable shakiness in my soul
The nervousness preventing my from ever escaping
This disease in my heart.
To some people, it’s called living.
To me, it’s called never being able to run away.
Never being able to truly go, truly leave.
To me, it’s called being caught in a nightmare,
While struggling to dream.
Chasing a mystery with no solution.
Escaping your own sanity to reach more sanity,
Freeing yourself from your happiness to find more happiness.
To some people, it’s called life.
There’s no such thing.
the letter that never arrivedas if grief had never hollowed out my heart,the letter that never arrived2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
caverns echoing with the memory of a laugh,
as if despair had never stolen my voice
until love whispered in my ear
and I knew what mattered,
of knowing: there are things
you will decide to protect yourself from,
you must never relive,
and some you must live
and live again,
no matter the cost
WishesMaybe we should stop wishing on shooting stars,Wishes2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to bring our muttered words to life
For eighteen years later,
we still close our eyes;
whispering words of yearning at a golden object,
demolishing a crimson flame,
and emitting white specks into the lucent air
But maybe we shouldn't
For these wishes we make for countless years
Serve as reminders:
That no one in life has everything,
But at least we have something
Even if it's just an intangible sentence
muttered under our ardent breath
DIS - GRACEWatch the stars,DIS - GRACE2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
they will blow tonight,
Hold my head,
I have lost my fight
Ease your eyes,
I'm alone tonight,
There's no ice,
I came you to find
I feel sorry,
but it's not 'am shy,
I feel sorry,
I should not deny
I feel sorry,
but this hole of Light
held my senses
all this wasted time
Y ' insisted long,
Now I'll stop denying,
Blind, so wrong,
Not for me such buying
but so pure, 'am 'mazed,
Feel my dirt,
Feel my bitter taste
One more guy
on your working night,
'feel so dry,
You dragged out my lying.
Thank you lady,
've treated me so fair,
but still me I dare
It is just a night
and the hole;
still It's full of Light.
Make BelieveGod and the DevilMake Believe2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are playing Russian Roulette
inside my head
and sometimes I wonder
if the gun is even loaded.
we could walk on water.I will find you on the edges of the river,we could walk on water.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
right between the creases where the moss
grows thick and the water gurgles hymns
so softly that you have to still your pulse
just so that you might hear it.
[Quiet, darling, quiet; open your heart and listen.]
You will find me in the pocket of the oceans
darkest wave, curled against the starfish and
seaweed, painting my moon-sand skin with
every color so that I might be as achingly
beautiful as the coral you dream of.
[Pray, darling, pray; open your hands and believe.]
We will find one another in the deepest part
of the deepest lake, pressing kisses together so
that when we breathe one another in, we might
simply breathe, fashioning oxygen from a wish
and touching each other as if one touch can
save the world.
[Sing, darling, sing; open your mouth and love.]
7 Sorts of Character To Avoid in Your Novel7 Sorts of Character To Avoid in Your Novel7 Sorts of Character To Avoid in Your Novel5 months ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Anybody Can Write a Novel
Chapter 3 “Characters” – Section 2 “Bad Character Types”
With Links to Supplementary Material
Last we talked about the Types of Character you could add to your writing. But there are also character types that you want to avoid as much as you can. Using the following types of character is usually the result of creating them only to move the plot along. And while moving the plot is important, it is equally so to create an organic world that mimics the originality in the world around us—especially in the complexity and uniqueness of every human. I encourage you to go through your novel or cast of characters, and either eliminate or improve e
Zombie StoryRun. Eat. Sleep. Life doesn't seem much different from those rotting corpses walking around. How many times can you beat the antithesis of what life used to be into a quivering pile of flesh? In fact, how many times could you stand to hear another human being, a survivor just like you, scream in agonizing pain while they are being eaten alive? I hate to break it to you, Billy. You have to get used to it real fast. After watching bits of skull fragments and brain matter hit the wall so many times it stops having shock value. Put a person under extreme circumstances for so long and they become numb. I sometimes ask myself, what is the point anymore?Zombie Story8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
You can't let them win, you have to survive.
Yeah. You keep telling yourself that. I am going to tell you something different. This is where our story begins.
It all started with reports o
SuicideSuicide... they call it sinSuicide12 years ago in Other More Like This
They say it is a death in which no-one wins...
They encourage you not to do it, they say it is wrong...
But who is there to encourage you when you can't be strong.
You feel like you have no-one, not even a friend.
No shoulder to cry on, just one last letter to send.
The Superfluous Adventures of Captain Redundancy “Sorry,” the robber adjusted the tights he had pulled over his head as a disguise, “who are you supposed to be?”The Superfluous Adventures of Captain Redundancy1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“I’m Captain Redundancy!” boomed the hero. “The vengeful masked avenger!”
“And this is my sidekick, Tautology Boy!”
“We already know who you are,” added Tautology Boy, pointing a gloved hand at the criminal.
“Yes! You are a bank robber, because you are robbing a bank!”
The robber glanced nervously up at a security camera. “But you don’t know my identity, right?”
“No,” admitted Tautology Boy. “Your identity is disguised due to your disguise.”
The robber breathed
Rain.Rain.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the slow movement of sleep
dance across your face
on light legs
reflected from the window.
Time has made you immortal,
trapped as it is
by the rain,
huddled wet in a doorway
with no key.
I too am trapped
by the rain
in this room full of space
and gestures too late
in their meaning;
no words can fill the years,
and I am grateful
that the illness marks you
so you cannot see
the words I weep.
TimeTime6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time ebbs, leaving the past behind,
as the falling tide leaves an empty beach.
Only our crumbling relics remain,
those moments, now sea-changed, when hope
and intention might have coalesced.
Or should I change
the metaphor? Time is a ravening demon,
it swallows all in its indifferently rapacious
maw. It leaves no trace
of images and dreams once close encased
in the brittle, discarded skull.
Time has fullness, when its harvests
are ripe, yet always plenty decays,
the mighty sun gutters, all that
remains is endless night.
undefinable.describing him wasn't really as easy as they thought. they'd think of the first thing that popped to mind, and it tends to be; "he's like a stolid shell of whirling thoughts and jumbled words that seem to rush out of him in one sharp breath."undefinable.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
to me, he's an unlimited number of letters, words and numbers. he's a collage of the world's images, and he blends them together into a pièce de résistance. he lives by his superstitions and adores clichés, and refuses to believe in the ordinary. he pulls people to him, and they are oblivious to it.
they say, "being with him is like plunging into a whirlpool, impossible to clear your head and get out of. it's like sticking your finger into a pot of glue and trailing it over shaved paper. never comes off altogether at once, does it?"
to me, being with him is like falling off the shorter end of a rainbow and narrowly missing the pot of gold. it's the feeling when you're at the highest point of the swing, where time seems to