BipolarEvery day, wake up and take a pillBipolar4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So you don't go looking for lethal thrills.
Haven't you ever wanted to go to the brink
Of destruction, just to see if you'd sink
Into the clutches of death or if you'd survive
Just because God still wants you alive?
You live on time stolen not borrowed
From some intangible thing called tomorrow.
Forget that white, round pill stamped 1-4-2
And you'll realize how much you can do
If only they would let you try
To jump off, spread your wings, and fly.
But even with the meds in your system,
You still aren't without symptoms.
Your working memory abilities
Are poor enough to come to futility.
Imagine the frustration when you find
You can't recall what was in your mind
Just moments before. You find yourself lacking
And your brain seems to be slacking,
Even when you're given some cues
Not everything comes to mind for you.
And not only memory, but functioning speed
Is a hindrance and daily you find you need
More time than others do to process events
Prince's Wish - 1 of 3Prince's Wish (1/3)Prince's Wish - 1 of 33 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
AN: This story contains: weight gain of the male variety and stuffing.
You can't deal with that? Have you met mister [x] at the corner of the screen? He will show you the exit
"More!" the cook commanded and more food was shoved down the funnel that was in Saki's mouth and down his throat.
This was already the fifth big dinner session, but he still felt like bursting as more food stretched his stomach. His belly bloated up in front of him, heavy with all sorts of meals and fattening desserts. Slow circles were rubbed on the stretched and taunt skin to help ease the pain as much as possible, but it was no helping, considered by how fast the food went down the funnel.
He groaned as his stomach grew yet rounder again. But maybe in a few weeks it would all be better. After all he was chosen by the prince and this all was an honour.
Three weeks later the new roundness in front of him felt better. It was still strange
The Girl and the ChildThere was a girlThe Girl and the Child1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And there was child
The girl dreamed of loss
And the child played until the late hours of the morning
The girl was sad and lonely
And the child still clung to everything she had
The girl was tired and done
And the child was afraid to grow up
The girl missed the child
And the child missed the girl
One day the girl left her heart on the child's doorstep
And then retreated into the shadows
The child held it in her hands
The child searched for years and years
But she found nothing
She finally fell to her knees never to get up again
The girl came out of the shadows
And saw the child on the floor
And she wept until she had no more tears
And once she cried her eyes, she laid there beside the child
And stared into the dark that now consumed her
The girl nodded for mother and laughed for father
Did for brother and worked for grandfather
But she cried for herself
Until no more light shined
And she was just another lump on the bed
The girl did not know how unhappy she w
M o n s t e rM o n s t e r3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Delight Drive. The street's very name explained how every house looked. Each one was painted with bright, cheery colors; a reflection of its owner. Every lawn was trimmed and watered to perfection; every flowerbed overrun with all sorts of tulips, daffodils, peonies, roses, and each bed was completely devoid of weeds. Each fence was lined with flawlessly pruned hedges. And the homes themselves seemed to emit a feeling of warmth and comfort.
It made Zacky sick. It was too happy, too disconcerting. No one seemed to have a mind of their own. Every basic idea was the same.
Zackary Baker never considered himself to be goth, but he couldn't understand how so many people enjoyed these colors. They were too bright. He knew that not everyone liked darker shades, as he did, but this was too much.
As Zacky trudged home from school, he glanced up at the clouds, keeping an eye out for rain. If it did he was in trouble. His hom
Once Upon A TimeOnce upon a time there was a girlOnce Upon A Time9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And she lived.
006When I was young,0061 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so very, very young,
I was deeply in love with fans, propellers, windmills.
I remember having these tiny little miniatures in plastic,
with the most biting colour combinations; green-purple, red-yellow;
and I'd just sit there, blowing, and merrily watch the fins
And when I first saw cogwheels
and screws and crankshafts and eggwheels
I floated amidst the gorgeous sorcery.
I wanted to find out all about machines; how they where,
through what and by which they stood,
why they turned.
What that meant.
My father bought me a huge book, I read it.
Didn't care about the text, I just
looked at the pictures over and over again
and I could see them coming to life.
Deuce the years later,
we were sitting next to each other,
hot cocoa and coffee, the game installing.
"You'll love this", he said,
and my eyes were regaled with the crackling and whistling
of gigantic animated clockwork, all spurry in their richoils.
Lions and Lambs - Part 1WARNING: The following story will involve bullying, feeding and scenes of mild violence. If you find these elements distasteful, you are advised to click away. If you do choose to read this material, please leave a comment if you have the time!Lions and Lambs - Part 15 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Lions and Lambs - Part 1
Thomas Winters stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked. Much like every other student, he was dressed in the standard school uniform of a white cotton shirt and grey slacks, with the school tie done loosely around his collar. He was fairly short, even by juniors' standards, and had a mess of uncombed blond hair. Tom looked to his right at his spiky-haired friend beside him, who was not a junior like him, but a senior.
"Hey Bruce, what are you thinking about?" Tom asked, stepping alongside his larger friend down the central school corridor.
The taller of the two glanced sideways at the source of the voice, "I was thinking about how annoying it would be if someone kept asking what I was thinking about," he g
HumanI don’t feel comfortable in this shell, I don’t like its disgusting smell.Human8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
My mouth release a breath so foul, in there reside teeth rotten like my soul.
This shattered heart pumps like a steam train, in my mind falls heavy rain.
My pale skin burns on this bright day, from my own self I just want to run away.
My soul doesn’t belong in this skeletal body, in everyone’s eyes I’m just a nobody.
I curse the day when I was born, my demented brain hurts like it’s pierced with a huge thorn.
I don’t want to be this thing, to all the women I am not appealing.
I just want to escape from my own skin, why do I hate so much my own kin?
For my condition there is no cure, this life I must endure.
And so from the darkest of depths of my condemned soul I roar, I'm just a human and nothing more.
Feeding RomanFeeding Roman8 years ago in Erotic More Like This
There he was again, Devan's RA at the dormitory that year, strolling lazily down the hall. It was the night of the third day of classes and everyone had pretty much begun to settle into what would become their routines for the next few months.
As for his RA, he seemed like a decent guy. He was friendly and had a good sense of humor. He seemed a tad jaded in his views of humanity, but not enough to be irritating. It lent to his personality the perfect amount of humorous sarcasm and wit. Devan could tell he was smart, but probably not extremely so in the book sense. From the little chances he had to converse with him, he seemed to be very cunning and witty. He also had the room across the hall, and Devan had been dreading coming back to school that semester to find the RA would be some tight ass who hated loud music and any form of social interaction.
Luckily, he got Roman. He wasn't a bad looking guy either. He had light brown hair that was borderline dusty blonde, medium-length that fe
Skeleton Boy Saves His SkinO' Gather 'round, children. I'll tell you a taleSkeleton Boy Saves His Skin8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Of a skeleton boy who was bony and pale.
For the first act, our story is all fun and games
But at the end of part one, we see everything changes
We see Skeleton Boy's snatched by the prince of all darkness.
'Tis back to trickster mythology that this storyline harkens.
And so Skeleton Boy must get out of this fix
And find ways to outsmart all his captors with tricks
So prepare for fantastical mischief in:
Skeleton Boy Saves His Skin
by Thomas Boguszewski
Deep underground, there was a boy who was dead
Then out of the ground popped his skeleton head.
He pulled his dead body up through all the red stone
And sat, his head rattling, upon his old headstone.
Skeleton Boy wanted mischievous fun
So he took to his heels and had a good run.
Our hero was hungry, and he saw a big rabbit,
So he set up a trap in order to nab it.
Once the rabbit was caught, the boy made rabbit stew.
But since he was bones, it fell right on through.
Soon after tha
Performers of Ancient IrelandDiodorus Siculus once said of ancient Ireland, "Among them are also to be found lyric poets whom they call Bards. These men sing to the accompaniment of instruments which are like lyres, and their songs may be either of praise or of obloquy" (James 163). Modern bards are different than ancient performers. Today the idea of a bard is typically anybody who performs and leaves a lasting impression. This can include singers, songwriters, actors, playwrights, instrumental players, poets, writers, and even journalists and people in news media. Ancient poets were more interested in teaching lessons than entertaining.Performers of Ancient Ireland11 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
The ancient poets and storytellers of Ireland influenced modern entertainment in many ways, including style, subject of common tales, and the way entertainers are treated in society.
Contrary to popular belief, bards weren't master-poets, nor were they held in high regard as Diodorus Siculus believed. Bards were low-class poets, uneducated in the "true path" of a poet. The filidh
EmpyreanMomma said to never marry an astronaut,Empyrean1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
they will always prefer the twinkling starlight
to the light in your eyes.
They'll only end up in ships that float
aimlessly in zero gravity and you will not be there.
Momma said to never marry an astronaut.
You will stand firmly on the earth,
clutching the ground and knowing
they will always prefer the twinkling starlight.
Planets will fracture and stars will collapse
long before he recognizes he can travel
to the light in your eyes.
Can't Face My Empty Bed TonightLike wasps descendingCan't Face My Empty Bed Tonight8 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
tears sting, bite, swell up my cheeks
pillows don't hug back.
a sliver of the galaxyto the star girl on the edge of my tongue:a sliver of the galaxy1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
your hair dye is fading; you are a patch work
quilt comprised of sleepless nights and
the world around you romanticizes
the sadness that fills you like a broken well,
but you know they’re wrong --
having a darkness that threatens
to overwhelm you every single moment
isn’t glamorous at all.
you’ve started to trace your skin
with a knife again, itching to press
a little harder, to draw on your body
the only way you know how.
but you won’t.
because that will mean
that you’re just as far gone
as they think you are.
and there’s still a sliver inside of you
that doesn’t want to let go.
--the girl on the other side of your mirror
Fever DreamsHush now,Fever Dreams3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and close your eyes
against this vermillion sunset.
You feel so much, too much:
leave crescent moons on my skin,
calm the anguished crimson heat
of your own burning heart.
This war shall end, my love;
but what will you be,
if not red?
WiccaDeity,Wicca10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A ritual of earthen peace
Meditate, visualize, breathe
Karma is a tool,
Negative for negative
Positive for positive
Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh, Samhain
Darkness of its energy,
Color of its light
Lady of the moon
Lord of the sun
Diana, Lucina, Selena
Kerunnos, Osiris, Apollo
Fertility, patience, happiness, strength, peace
All power is within ourselves
A thumb to Venus
A forfinger to Jupiter
The five elements
Do you believe?
Telling MomGirl: Mom, I have something to tell you.Telling Mom4 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Mom: What is it, honey?
Girl: I'm gay.
Mom: Don't be ridiculous, dear, grey is a color. You can't be grey.
Girl: No mom, I'm a lesbian.
Mom: No you're not dear. You're English and American Indian, none of your ancestors came from Lebanon.
Girl: No, not Lebanese, LESBIAN!!
Mom: I didn't know you were interested in acting, you aren't even in theater arts.
Girl: I like girls.
Mom: Yes, I know. Your two best friends are girls.
Girl: Mom, I'm sleeping with Madison.
Mom: Of course you are, there is only one bed in your room. You wouldn't make your best friend sleep on the floor.
Girl: MOM! I am having sex with Madison!
Mom: ...but Madison is a girl, honey. You can't have sex with a girl.
Girl: Obviously I can, I have, and I intend to do so again
Even ThoughThere will be no caged fingers,Even Though4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
no tendons finely tuned to A from tension.
There will be no clenched teeth, gritting rosin,
to make the final singing note growl.
There will be unwinding bed-sheets,
hands slowly releasing the tuning pegs.
There will be slowly sliding scales
as the four limbs loosen past playing.
There will be a simple, quiet exit,
not to ovation, but to a hushed audience
who anticipate an encore,
even though it is uncertain.