a poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mindit isn't like i'ma poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mind1 year 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
Fly little childChild of air and lightFly little child8 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
hiding within a cage
of leaves and twigs
why do you not rise?
One who hangs so near to the sky
has no right to neglect it
to return to the ground
and crawl amongst the worms beneath
like those you chose to rise above
like those who can only aspire
to be so near to the sky as you.
Child of feather and beauty
Hanging between wonder and despair
to do not hear the sound
of your wings' sadness
do you not hear how they weep?
How they beg for a return
for a chance
to bask amongst the clouds
for which they were meant to see.
Children of wonder and sunlight
will rise above your chains
of fear and hoplesness?
Rise and fly
above me , above the Earth
above all of us
and let us watch
from the shadows of your wings.
will you fly for yourself,
will you fly fo
Sound of RainThink for a moment: Is the sound of rain, truly what you are hearing?Sound of Rain11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Imagine this, you're sitting there in your underwear (don't try to pretend you're not). It's raining outside and you've been browsing the internet for the past seven hours. It's already 3:13 a.m. in the morning and a sudden hint of nervousness seizes you. It's silly really, you don't have to attend school, nor do you have work in the morning, but somehow you still feel as though you should force yourself into bed.
You crawl under the covers and bring the blanket up to your chin. Your mind runs over all the things you've done today and you stare at the ceiling, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed, listening to the sound of rain as it goes pitter-patter on your window. Yet, somehow, the rain sounds different tonight. You feel a strange sinking in your chest and a rising sensation of fear.
The pitter-patter no longer sounds like gentle droplets of water hitting the glass. It sounds more
NorwayxReaderYou sighed; you were wondering how you got convinced to do this.NorwayxReader4 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Come on _____!" Denmark laughed, "I bet you can change Norway's expression no doubt!"
"Are you sure?" You asked his face looked like he was going to pull a fast one, "I mean its Norway we're talking about. It's not like it's England or Hong Kong even!"
"Come on all I see out of him is that blank face. Do something to change it and you get to dare me."
Now you're standing in the living room of the Nordic Household. You had walked in after Sealand opened the door letting you in. You've been hesitating as much as you could, talking to Sweden, petting Hanatamago, mocking Mr. Puffin, anything to keep you from talking to Norway. But it's finally time to get the courage to say or do something to change his facial expression.
"Hey!" You called getting the Norwegian man's attention.
"Yes? You need something _____?" He asked you looking up from his book.
"Um yeah I do actually."
"Does it have to with Denmark?
I love... and hate being a writerI hate being a writerI love... and hate being a writer9 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
yet I love it too
though such ambiguous feelings
cannot be explained so simply...
I loathe the unsterilized ink
which continually poisons my veins
and pumps from an all too emotional heart
yet when this ink is set free
breathed from my syringe of a quill
I'm assailed by such a breathtaking sense
of relief and release that I forget
and become intoxicated on my own vile.
I abhor my blank eyes
which so incoherently delude me
as to what is real
that I am faced continually
with the realization that reality
will never be enough for me
and yet these blank eyes are the same
on which I paint such beautiful fantasies
and experiences which I faithfully adore.
I detest the imagination
which hosts menial plays with
unwritten roles and spitfire lines
and asks me to fill the holes
Dear Daddy, I hate you.Dad,Dear Daddy, I hate you.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
There's something I want you to know,
Because, hey dad..
I'm not stupid.
I know you're not going to be here
Something I wanted to say..
I hate you.
I hate how you've been there for me.
I hate how you made me who I am today.
I hate how you've always inspired me,
And I hate how you've been the best father anyone could ask for.
I hate how I know you enough to know exactly what you're going to say.
I hate how you know me the same way.
I hate how you love your family more than anything.
I hate how you've been strong just so we don't feel weak,
And I hate how you never gave up on us.
On your family.
On your daughters.
I hate knowing that it's going to be
I'm going to miss you, Dad.
... Daddy, I'm going to miss you.
And I hate you for that.
.my head has become a.1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
teeming with ugly whispers and most days
i just want to get drunk
it's too much:
sitting in a history class where
the teacher just drones on
like a broken record about how in sixty years
we'll all be suffocating on the exhaust fumes
of our parents' sins.
driving on a clustered highway
in an empty car with half a tank of
gas getting passed by people too
occupied to live their lives.
contemplating a black hole pompous
enough to call itself the
future as an insatiable
debt worms its way into
the valleys and canyons of
my skin and bones.
give me a scalpel and
open up my skull.
exterminate these savage vermin
from my mind before
my veins turn black from their
toxic desires and my heart stops
beating the moment i close my eyes.
I Am AtlasI am AtlasI Am Atlas10 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
with the sky balanced upon my spine
and my eyes staring at the Earth
beneath my feet,
the unchanging and dirty world
which forced this weight upon me
and continually called
for the sky to crush me.
I am Atlas
kneeling and groveling
before the ground whilst
and every night
to see the sky which I uphold
with my being.
I am Atlas
dying slowly whilst
you all around my feet
and say not a word
recognize not a moment
of my continual torture.
I am Atlas
and though I dream of releasing the sky
and finally seeing its wonderful beauty
I know I would only see it for the moment
before it finally crushed me
and I realize
that god truly hates me.
wolfgirltoday is the day i grow my fangs.wolfgirl3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
no longer will i put my tail
between my legs when i pass by my
reflection; no more will i cower
before the wicked dreams
that whisper deceit in my ears.
i shall throw back my head
and howl to the moon whenever i
wish. the cowardly hunger will
be sated by the bones of my
monsters, crunched to nothing but
dust between my teeth. even the
devil will fear my rage for at
last, i am beginning to cherish
this temple that protects my
as for the dread that still threatens to cage my wild soul?
i will hunt it down
and tear it to bloody shreds with hidden claws
that once lurked beneath my
trembling skin. for i have become free—
and it is a right which i will
never let leave my sight.
Waiting (Denmark x Reader)“Are you ready?"Waiting (Denmark x Reader)2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I nodded, whilst every word I was about to voice quickly died in my throat. I didn’t dare to glance back at the endless sea of merchants and peasants alike that I knew were standing behind me, scrutinising every minute movement I made and every word I spoke. I didn’t want them to think I was afraid. I couldn’t die like that, feeling humiliated in such a form. I was wary of every shiver, every tremble that I knew could be mistaken for fear.
In the deathly silence of those short few moments I heard little other than my own breathing and my own heart. The crowd that surrounded the scaffold was completely soundless, all sound having ceased a number of minutes beforehand. I supposed that they were only waiting for the moment when the axe fell so that they could give their solemn cheers and return home, having had their brutal entertainment. I should have been the same, I realised - if I were not the one about to become the one who would ent
The Sounds Of A DayThere is a manThe Sounds Of A Day6 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
who wakes every morning
to the sound of ticking,
tick tock tick tock
as he rises
combined with the steady creak
of truly worn bones.
He continues on
drowning the perpetual noise
with his monotony,
both hair and teeth
and two laces
with little bunnies of top.
He walks the empty hallway
to the rhythm of children's laughter
and closes the door
just as it turns to tears.
He arrives at work
brazenly ignoring the serenade of clicks
by a chorus of staples,
cli-click click click.
He is hard to seduce
but soon succumbs to it
wielding his own instrument
just in time for his solo,
rasping upon the stapler
long and hard till
he's finally released.
He runs to the elevator
TimeTick-tock goes the clockTime1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm lost in time
May I find my way
Embrace my cursed past
Tokyo Jungle: A Pomeranian's LifeIt was raining again, just like it did every few days. The rain fell fast and hard, viciously pelting everything that lived underneath the clouds. Today, the rainfall was particularly harsh. When night finally came, it only served to be an even greater obstruction of view, making it near-impossible to see anything through the thick veil of darkness and mist. However, that did not hamper the liveliness of the beings within the steel jungle of Tokyo. Even in such harsh conditions, the animals were moving, searching for protection, for mates, and for food. In a world where you could be killed at any moment, you had no choice but to keep moving.Tokyo Jungle: A Pomeranian's Life3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
One particular creature was the Pomeranian, the oldest of his family's sixth generation. His family had come to thrive quite well in the abandoned city, utilizing both their speed and their diminutive size to take down much larger opponents, from Beagles to Panthers. The Pomeranian's grandfather had been in control of the entire Shibuya Shopping Di
Knock Me DownKnock me downKnock Me Down1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But I will still rise
But my hope never dies
Tell me I 'can't do it'
But I will prove you wrong
Break me down into pieces
But inside I'll remain strong
A fiery passion burns within me
One that you will not take away
Forever I will stand freely
And my fears, I will slay
This Inner WarHide me underneath your wingThis Inner War5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Protect me from the storm
Teach me how to breathe again
Keep me safe and warm
I cannot fight the war
What are we even fighting for?
I can't win this battle
All on my own...
Someone save me now,
Before I fall apart,
And stop this beating heart,
From beating anymore
So please, save me...
What are we fighting for?
CoffeeI want to go outCoffee8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And drink coffee.
Talk about life
And kiss you.
But that is silly isn't it?
I don't like coffee much.
I'll just buy some for you
So I can watch you smile.
Then lets dance and laugh because
It's an amazing feeling to be loved.
Art Can Be-Skipping and jumping and hoppingArt Can Be-8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And swimming and dancing and
Art can be
You with friends
And a box of sparklers on a
Warm summer night.
Art can be
The snow that melts
In your hair and the warmth
Of the fire inside during winter.
Art can be
You racing outside with no one
But yourself and whatever you love
Whether you can touch it or not.
Art can be
Words on a page or a scrap of paper
Or a napkin at that one diner that got
Art can be
Little scribbles on the back of a
Test, where you're in school and the
Person next to you is exactly at that
Art can be
You with ten other people
Just dancing around like idiots
Or by yourself practicing that one part
In a complicated routine.
Art can be
Random streaks of color,
Whether it's made by light and clouds
And rain, or by paints or pencils or digital
Art can be
A choir of young children
Or a few friends, no matter the age,
Just hanging out singing old songs in the
Art can be
.not too much more.11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
icicles in the desert.
whatever you give me,
give it to me undivided.
thank you for your quintessence:
"if you're out of ordinary,
you need a refill."
Living With A LieYou sit there shaking; emotionally frozen.Living With A Lie2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You check the time on your watch, despite knowing it already.
The ever-present numbness, the cold feeling which clutches at your soul;
That is what you feel upon the dawn of the lie.
To know its nature, to know its being;
To have it spill upon your awareness.
What words would surmise such a bitter feeling:
Perhaps the use of dejection, p
Blackbird's FeatherBlackbirdBlackbird's Feather2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
sweeping across the snow
left me a feather
and away he goes
and away he goes
drifting up on the air
but I seem to be stuck here
melting in the cold
cannot rip my eyes from the sky
cannot get my fists to unfold
the words have frozen to our tongues
that's what happens to winter love
so you think this feather is enough to make a wing
so you try to free me from it,
but your claws only sting.
i walk away
come to regret every footfall
but I can't keep you down
because you're up
and I'm frozen to the ground
laying pale in the snow
he can soar no more
you didn't have to do that
have to fall on your own sword
cut your wings apart
to get me back home.
and as I see you freeze
I know now what it is I believe
that someone could give up everything
come down to the winter
do you know the secret, Bird?
learn to live with the cold
though you turn blue
the heart beats hot inside of you
I know it
Perfectly ComfortableYou are comfortable now,Perfectly Comfortable2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Though tired from your day at work.
You lay your head upon the pillow,
And you start to fall asleep...
It is quiet in your apartment,
The silence is soothing.
You soon begin to dream,
And though your dream is initially pleasant...
Something seems to be off in the things you see around you.
You find yourself walking through the streets,
The old pavement beneath your apartment.
It looks like it always has except for all those cracks in the stone.
Crick-crack, crick crack.
You turn your eyes from the paving,
To see the streets lined with people.
Shivering, grim; their eyes hold little hope,
Save for a warm night' meal.
You begin to feel a little more frightened.
Your tie is getting pretty tight.
You stagger into your office, your lips going blue.
You try to alert someone,
But your colleagues no longer have faces...
They are simply mouths, large and unrelenting,
Belting you with a storm of words that drowns you out.
You are silenced, in a world
The IndividualYou wear your skin, with mask of sin,The Individual11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A spiderweb of lies. Of "individuals",
Breaking ties, alone at last
They seem to hide, a fixation of vanity...
I am the "individual"!
This is my golden ritual,
Refuse all that is me,
A web of lies I be!
But can you see, what you've become,
Showing these scars made by none-
Other than you?
They were made just for you...
They were made just by you...
Made to be pitied too...
You are the "individual"!
Lies are your golden ritual,
Refuse what you should be,
To live with agony!
Sweet SerenityI have searched the very depths of my being,Sweet Serenity2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Seeking the essence of the void...
To understand its nature,
To become a part of nothing...
For where else can we be free of turmoil,
Where else can a beaten soul go to rest?
If not in the comforting embrace of eternal oblivion?
Such is what I seek, away from the noise that burns at my ears.
Away from the many voices that drill into my mind.
For these are not the whispers of psychosis,
Nor the delusions of a twisted psyche.
Instead they are the whispers that are heard all around us;
The whispers of the every-man.
He who desires the body of another.
He who desires the fat of his wallet.
He who cares only for self-satisfaction
And He who wishes to stand above all.
Voices, voices, noisy voices...
Eternally spitting their foul words into me.
Even in the realm of fantasy I can no longer escape!
For they are here, and I read their words scrawled across th
We Only Live To DieThis is what we live for—these whispers on our lipsWe Only Live To Die5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
The drying bits of blood on our paper-cut fingertips
Opening the letters that we left our future selves
A bittersweet reminder of those storybooks on the shelves
This is what we live for – this emotion in our souls
The torture and the bittersweet moments of lost control
Biting cracked lips with the dirt beneath our nails
These moments of imperfection as our trains of thought derail
This is what we live for – shutting doors and opening eyes
Smiling for a moment, before the tears reveal our lies
This is what we live for, this reality, this life…
This is what we live for,
As we only live