10:59if you by chance10:594 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
locked away in their own
let them be- it might be
than the outside
I am a turtleI am a turtleI am a turtle8 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
with the waters of hope
to keep me alive
and hardened to the touch
to protect a soft core.
I am a turtle
wrinkled, wrangled and dry
with a home on my back
and the world before my eyes
slowly growing nearer.
bedtime stories don't quite go this wayonce upon a time--bedtime stories don't quite go this way2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
no wait, that's wrong.
let's not start our story that way.
you find yourself in your bathtub,
the water scalding
and risen as high as the rim itself.
you find yourself submerged
and screaming out for somebody to help
you are being drowned.
monsters as black as the sky
are tearing at your ankles,
cackling and pulling you down and out of sight
and water splashes out of the
tub and you are seeing nothing
but old memories that stick to your throat
when you can do nothing but cry.
you find yourself in your shower,
curled up in a corner furthest
from the water because
you are afraid that cold water will wash
away your sins.
you are afraid that if that water touches
you in the slightest bit, you
will melt like the wicked witch, and
you haven't felt enough suffering to die
in such an easy way.
melting is far less painful than the ways
that cross your mind when
water falls over your eyes and stings and
you can do nothing but make
I Like Your FREE! Reader Insert WWYFF ~ Chapter 2.I Like Your FREE! Reader Insert WWYFF ~ Chapter 2.2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter 2: For The Team
~~Present Day: Age 16~~
They really hadn't changed in all the time you knew them. Not until Rin decided to leave. You remembered crying that day. But that was in the past, now it was just the beginning of your second year of High school. Hard to believe its been 6 years since then, huh? Any time you started something new, those memories stung at your brain.
“Huu.. huu...” panting, you ran around the corner, looking down at your watch in panic. '15 minutes!' Skidding as you turned, you ran directly into someone.
Falling back, one of your shoes slipped off, butt hitting the floor with a harsh thump. “Uuuu...” propping yourself up on your elbows you rubbed your side.
“I'm sorry..!! I didn't mean to! Really!”
The said boy got up, flailing his arms back and forth, flustered as he looked down at you. Holding out his hand he lowered himself to help you off the floor. That vo
She Killed Him With LettersHis days were slim,She Killed Him With Letters4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And his nights
But he was not
destined to be
Why not? You ask,
Couldn't he have
No I respond,
He was doomed
from the start
to die by letters.
Murder she wrote,
I saw her kill him
The Shattered LoveThere was a boy made of metal with a heart of glassThe Shattered Love4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
who thought he was invincible.
he lived recklessly with no regard for others.
There was a girl made of glass with a heart of metal
who knew she was fragile.
she was quiet and cautious and isolated herself.
One day by chance
the two met
and shortly thereafter they fell deeply in love.
The boy fell more and more in love,
while the girl felt her love for him dwindle
until she simply couldn't love him anymore.
The girl with the heart made of metal left the boy.
There is a boy made of metal with a heart of shattered glass
who knows he is broken.
he tries to tape his heart back together.
There is a girl made of glass with a heart of metal
who knows she can be fragile
she is a little happier and a little less alone.
elephant (puppet talk)i have an elephant in my head.elephant (puppet talk)4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and there is always room
for one more thought
and one more anxiety
and one more insecurity
and one more memory
and one more flashback
and one more--
no. i don’t talk about that stuff.
i never talk about that.
i don’t like talking about it
but i’ve never been able
to hide the elephant in my head
because it’s reminiscent
of puppet talk.
my face says it all,
my emotions pulling the strings
as if i’m nothing more
than a marionette.
because most days, in truth,
i feel as though
i am nothing more than a puppet
with elephants in his head
aimed to please
like i’m dumbo.
(or whatever the story is
because i’ve never seen
that silly little movie.)
i take my distractions for granted
because like oxygen,
you don’t realize it is there
until you need it most.
and like breathing
i don’t notice loneliness
until i’m left in my bedroom
sleeping my entire day away
so i don’t have to
I think I'm losing where you end and I beginlike a crash victimI think I'm losing where you end and I begin8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
that needed one too many
which parts of me are mine
and which of them are
What's the Definition of Perfect?I will never be the definition of perfect.What's the Definition of Perfect?4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I want to burn magazines,
And throw rocks at my T.V.
Just to block their noise.
I hate looking at a scale,
And feeling like I've failed.
I hate the number that appears,
It makes me want to disappear.
But then there is that moment I realize,
That this is my own life.
I will not live it,
By the rules of society.
I am my own definition of beauty.
And I am pretty damn good at it,
I am sure as hell not fat or ugly,
So screw all those names those kids said to me.
I am me,
I am not skinny.
I am not pretty
Not in societies eyes.
But that's okay because I am not fake,
I have plenty of mistakes.
But you know what,
Because I feel more beautiful than ever,
When I see myself in the mirror.
Just as me.
Than worrying about others,
And running from my imperfections in fear.
So guess what,
Fuck. You. Society
With your magazines and size 0 models,
Because that is something I never will be!
But one nightShe stares into the darkness as strands of hair decorate her countenance.But one night5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her eyes hold pain.
––They’re damp with broken promises, and tainted purity.
She’s so aware of herself, it feels surreal.
She can feel her pulse in her wrists, her neck and her chest.
They feel out of sync, just like she does.
She prays to a god she doesn’t believe in just to feel safe, even for a mere moment.
She talks intimately to the empty sky, and asks it for help.
There’s an echo to her words.
––It’s windy, and utterly dark.
The full moon illuminates her doubting soul as she collapses onto her knees, not too far from the cliffs edge.
Her eyes are closed.
It hurts to see the beauty she can’t appreciate.
It hurts to feel so void of life, with a beating heart, and bated breath.
She inhales as deeply as she can.
With all the strength she can muster, she lets out a scream that shakes the core of the Universe.
The scream is long, and desperate.
It's like this, see?All the timeIt's like this, see?2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
nature is composing
and every midnight
is a crumpled page
and every death
is a cross out
and every baby
is still-drying ink
and someday my skin
will be tomorrow's sundries
and today I am standing
on doe-eyed lovers
with dandelion-stained knees
and yesterday they stood
on dreams of men flying
and that is the only eternity
I care to subscribe to.
you'll find the rest of my bones in the graveyardtrust is like a two-person tug of war andyou'll find the rest of my bones in the graveyard7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you are a piece of gum, chewed then spat out.
trust should work like a traffic light.
what do you do when you start seeing his
hands in the form of bruises? when he stops
communicating unless it's in the form of alcoholic tang,
letters written on your tongue with his?
what do you do when the cold you start to feel doesn't
come from the outside, but in, and his body heat cannot
seep into your bones?
you bleach your hair and paint makeup over your
skin and try to become the kind of girl you never were.
you trust him until the red staining his lips isn't your own blood but
lipstick. you trust him even when he leaves in the morning.
the name in his phone book is call girl,
make me feel good girl,
make me feel so much larger than I am girl.
your number is scribbled under it.
there are strands of bleach-blonde hair caught between the pages.
love is a two way street. you can't take what
there isn't left to give.
he takes away portion
they can't all be lovesongs.My mind is full of melancholy whores smoking cigarettes on park benches, wondering where the hell they screwed up. They ask God if their lives are useless, if they should just give up, but He never answers, and science is an indifferent little bastard. So they sigh, taking another drag on their cigarette. ANd they look to their neighbor in the same place as them and mutter "freak."they can't all be lovesongs.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
All the best heroes are losers on the inside. Odysseus went home and cried himself a river. He and Telemachus and Penelope and the whole island of Ithaca drowned in it. Sometimes I sit on my bed, not listening to music, not on the internet, just staring out the window through the sheer curtain at the lamppost, wondering if tonight the stars were out or if the workers at the factories on the river were bringing home paychecks. I can't remember last time I could see any constellation other than Orion. I could never see those in the first place, though. I wonder if the ancient Greeks were just grasping at st
funny how a corpse is still wasting oxygen.i killed myself when i was six-years-oldfunny how a corpse is still wasting oxygen.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
one stormy night in a bathtub
filled with too much water.
i didn't know that at that same moment
my cat had gotten ran over
in the street
and my favorite tree
hadn't survived the storm.
i wonder why my parents are so content
living with a ghost.
PressureI tried to smilePressure4 months ago in Emotional More Like This
and I pretend it's alright
but we both now
that nothing is okay
If I don't, I know you'll be angry
You'll look at me with that frustrated expression of yours
And tell me things that I've known for years but never seemed to do
I'm not a good little girl
I can't take it
I'm not as good as that person over there
I've never been the best at anything that didn't make me happy
I can't get the honor rolls
I can't do my homework right
I can't even interact properly
All these years, I've tried to ask for help
But no one understood
So I gave up
But now that I have the chance to ask for help
...I don't know how to ask
How could I possibly let you know
That all these years I've been shunned
Not by you, but by others
those who found that I was too childish to be around
The one who never seemed to grow up
I'm sorry I'm such a naive girl
I'm sorry I seem to lazy and unreliable
I'm sorry that I can't seem to get anything right
Unfortunately I'm that girl
My Personal PreferenceI don’t careMy Personal Preference5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
for pretty hearts.
I like the ones
that are scarred,
and taped together,
because those are the ones
who have been through Hell
and have the courage
to keep beating.
Burning poemsBurning poems1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I threw my poetry in the flames
and watched it burn
I watched the fire eat away
the words I'd written down with blood
and tears and pain
all those precious works of mine
now totally useless and boring
they can't describe the way I feel
they're nothing compared to the nails in my veins
to the needles in my lungs
to the lava lake in my heart
I'm drowning in my own longing
my own desire
in my love for you
The Petals of Time (LokixReader) Ch.24 Asgard is every bit as resplendent as you recall it being. If anything, the aura of sophistication surrounding the Allfather's court has multiplied; for the first time in your life you feel... daunted. Daunted, by the flawless hair and the elaborate garb of the young women you find yourself facing. They had been chattering animatedly enough, but they quickly fall silent at the sight of the three Vanir standing in the doorway.The Petals of Time (LokixReader) Ch.242 years ago in Romance More Like This
Three, because your Aunt Asfrid had insisted that Gilrin be allowed to accompany you and Lyssa. A fragile slip of a maiden, she stands behind you, half-shielding herself from view. You don't blame her. Why have I never before noticed how concealing their manner of dress is? The Aesir women are regarding you with raised eyebrows, silently passing judgment on your loosely braided hair and the semi-sheer panels of fabric draped artfully around your frame. Lyssa shifts beside you in slight discomfort. Well, no use in de
there's no salvation for moths in your world.when i was in middle schoolthere's no salvation for moths in your world.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
my art teacher told me that in abstract paintings
warm colors are laid over cool, and especially neutral, colors.
so when i sat atop the back table
and splattered my dusk blue tears of flimsy watercolor paints
atop the sickening yellow i despised so much,
she scolded me and put me out of her class
when i told her i didn't want to be kandinsky
and that she didn't know shit about art.
but i couldn't help but think about her
on my way to the hospital.
so tell me, ms. bame, am i killing myself right,
smothering ivory wrists with crimson stains?
would you let me stay in your class now,
hang me up in the art case?
To you with glass shard heart and paper skin You will climb and mount his lips and taste every syllable of his words just to find a space where you could fit in; you will press your fingers onto symphonies of black and white cacophonous outrage just because your mind is a cosmic explosion and a catastrophic cyclop. You're a shipwreck that crushes yourself into graveyards and you cry yourself into a smudged mascara and glassy eyed mess just to hope for one day you'll justify your existence without hurting yourself anymore. And when your tornado eyes come gushing down in watershed tears at every nightfall, you will climb behind brick walls and tear stained diaries and cry and blame the world and demand an ocean of apologies.To you with glass shard heart and paper skin4 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Even so, the world will only give you silence. I'm sorry the war had not ended for you. I'm sorry you had to cry in asphalt dust and gun fire smoke. I'm sorry you're suffocated in liquor fumes because n
untitledthere are a thousanduntitled2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
unwritten love letters in your eyes
now I keep thinking about
and the color green
all I know is that
my skull's been
warriors traversing well worn paths
boots leaving tracks across
chests and necks
and it's comfortable
it's not like drowning
more like slowly lowering
into hot bathwater
and we are just skin and cosmos
bodies and words
our tongues landlocked
we are adrift in
our own little sea
we've plucked our wings
and now we can't fly
tell me the truth
that the sky's overrated
I'd rather be with you
on the ground
or buried beneath it
skeletons entwined truthfully
I've always thought heaven was
a pretty sort of lie
but I've read a book or two
or people's idea of it
and I disagree with myself
popping thought balloons
on the idea that heaven
is in the way your eyes
fold origami swans when you smile
that shitty laugh
that hollow above your heart
like your chest's caving i
Remember UsWhen you go home, IRemember Us4 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
hope you look up to the stars
and remember us.
Night SkyPaint me a story of words,Night Sky4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the clouds and sky sit as a attentive audience.
The stars outline filled with memories of our epic journey.
Hands will be joined together under
the light of the Haley’s Comet.
The man in the moon will stay hidden in the moon,
we’ll seek him out while sitting on our picnic basket.
Stupid CupidI shot Cupid todayStupid Cupid4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Killed him in self defense
He was pointing his arrows at me again
Those deadly poison laced arrows
The most deadly poison known to man
I killed Cupid
Shoved his own arrow through his heart
No longer will he poison anyone
No longer will poison me
He shot me with those arrows to many times
Never again would I allow him to shoot again
Cupid is dead
His arrows smashed
His wings still
I smiled as I slid that arrow
Deep into his chest
Through his heart
And I laughed
When the light left his eyes
And in death he finally understood
What it meant to die for love