Sexually Transmitted DiseasesSexually Transmitted Diseases9 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Complete Guide To Sex
Sexually Transmitted Diseases.
- A thorough guide to STDs for parents of teenagers and teenagers alike.
(A.K.A. The gift that keeps on giving)
Genital herpes is no laughing matter. There is no cure for genital herpes. It is a lifelong disease. The band Limp Bizkit once contracted genital herpes, none survived. I'm here to raise awareness about genital herpes in an attempt to minimise any casualties within this community. Even though many people actually believe genital herpes to be nothing but an urban myth, I can assure you – It's real, it's alive, it's out there – and it's coming to get you.
Did you know? - You can get genital herpes on your face? Yes, it is true – experts have concluded that genital herpes can migrate, like indigenous nomads – except they don't carry around spears – instead, genital herpes are known to shoot out something known as "herpal fluid" straight from a smal
Set's story.Set's story.8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i will never lie to you
lies are on my tongue and not my hands
between the river and inside the stone, sarcophogus fresh for saintly appendix, a walnut shell (once cracked, twice removed, three times consumed) bore a hole through the sand for the sake of oxygen. the scales got the best of the sponges, running them through coral furnaces and sulfuric dependencies, leaving in their wake an extinguished lust and a penchant for nonsequitur syllables. nonanon, nonanon, nonanon deed, quivverum taciturned a soiled greed-- between the rhythm of the water and the labour of the sea, what was at once half dead returned... and ceased to be.
a ratnest's respect for a kelp bed's disjunction, there were nine holes to peer from with all the honesty of the sky's greyed wisdom. skeletal hands shook in the fisherman's net, steadyingstudyingteetering on a
Caught KnickersCaught KnickersCaught Knickers10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Walking up the stairs,
Tying some string in a knot,
Not knowing that in my skirt
My knickers had been caught.
I wondered why she had laughed,
Why he had stopped to stare,
But my mind was on other things
And so I did not care.
I stopped at my locker door
And opened it wide
Looking for a notebook,
A boy of a young age
Had been walking past,
He had turned to stare at me,
Hit the wall and landed on his ass.
Looking at him in awe,
I held out my hand to help
But he scurried away on all fours
With a very surprising yelp.
I stood where I was before
Wondering what I'd done
When my friend walked up and said
"Psst, I can see your bum."
I stared at her in shock
As she giggled like a child.
"Well, not your bum really
But it's your knickers you cannot hide."
I threw my hands to my rear
And ran to the loo,
Into the stall, shutting the door,
Trying to fix, to undo.
I managed to fix it all
But was still red with shame.
I knew that from here on out
The whole school would
In The BakeryIn The Bakery6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I thought of my grandmother the second I walked through the unlocked screen door. She once told me, in that head-wagging way of hers, that unexplainably nice smells were due to the presence of angels. Not that I couldnt explain why my senses reeled in delight the baker had been at work for hours before I arrived, and the products of his labor greeted my nose before I saw them.
I felt faintly ridiculous, as usual. Here I was trekking around this dinky town with its poor lighting, poor paving, and street signs that seemed to vanish just as I needed them most. Bad enough that it was 4 AM, that uncomfortable time when my body cannot decide whether the day is just beginning or over already; worse still that my subject of inquiry fairies would get me laughed out of any reasonable persons presence in two minutes flat. Nevertheless, Rennie had
AC - Wonderland Blues 1AC - Wonderland Blues 17 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The season is changing, and I can feel it in the wind. Not that the wind whispers much anymore, not in the City anyways. But no matter how distant, no matter how faint, I can still feel it, deep in my chest, like a warm touch, telling me that change is on the winds. Autumn is coming. Its strange really. Autumn is that special sort of season that brings about change summer into winter that short transitional period where you can feel death in the air, wandering around, turning the leaves from green to a myriad shade of red and brown. Autumn is the season that precedes death, the death of the winter cold, that last glimpse of warmth before the end. Its funny, because if I only paid more attention to how the autumn represents the prelude to death, I wouldve done things much differently.
It was supposed to be the case to end all cases. Its cliché, I kno
SurrenderShe was just finishing the dishes when the car pulled into the driveway. Her hands stopped in motion as she heard rubber pop on gravel as it slid to a stop outside and instinctively she knew. She listened as the car door creaked open and heard the footsteps as they climbed each stair one at a time, just like before, the wood creaking slightly, heels tapping lightly to come to a halt just outside her door. Her throat tightened slightly and she exhaled not realizing she had been holding her breath all along. Finding motion once more she placed the dinner plate on the counter and dropped the dish towel on top of it before turning to face the front of the house.Surrender8 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Danii could see her framed within the screen door standing with her back to the door by the railing outside. Her bare feet treaded lightly on the worn hardwood floor as she approached the door. Her eyes never left the woman's back and though her footsteps
Whoever Brings the Night The Swordmaster pulled the two boys apart, holding one by the collar and the other by the ear. They yelled as they tried to grab at each other, but he held them at arms length, with a firm hand until they quieted.Whoever Brings the Night7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
What was all that about? he asked, his voice stern. The younger of the two boys, a talented string-bean of a boy called Tuomas glared at his rival.
Emppu insulted my sister. Said she was a whore. He spat the words out. The blond boy on the Swordmasters other side squirmed, trying to shuck the hand from his collar.
I did not he said my father was a coward and ran from a duel.
Boys! said the Swordmaster, gripping both tighter. Both of these are vicious slurs indeed, but fighting does not wipe either insult, and when neither insult is true, what does fighting achieve?
PumpkinPumpkin. I have been called that name for years. I hate it. I hate my mother for calling me that, for instilling in my naïve young mind the idea that I was actually a pumpkin. Clearly, Im not. I dont grow among wide, green leaves, nor did I spend my childhood whispering to ants and cutworms as they crawled over me. No eager children turned me over, checking for rotted spots or discoloration. I do not have rotted spots. I hate that my mother could imply that.Pumpkin7 years ago in Horror More Like This
Pumpkin. I am not orange. Not naturally, I mean. I once used that spray-on tanning solution when I was sixteen in an effort to convince myself that it was not February and I didnt have fish-belly pale legs, thus turning myself into a skinny, five and a half foot tall carrot-colored young woman. Maybe that makes me closer to a carrot, but not a pumpkin. Im not built like a pumpkin. I hate the idea that my mother could imply that I was. Thanks, Mum. Thats good for my self-esteem.
Lover - Spirit - ResistanceLover - Spirit - Resistance9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I dream of you
When you're quiet.
You creep and slide next to me
Naked, perfect, strange.
My end of the rainbow
Is empty as you fade
Over the miles,
A ghost of hearts' illusion.
Your hair was just in
My hand a moment ago-
I felt you close, silk
Against me, cool and soft.
I awake, as you roll
Away from me, shining
That glow alone,
Breaking me in two.
I hear your tune,
The music of your
Breath sighing my name,
Drawing my spirit to you.
I have to taste you,
Touch the Divine...
Drag the stars in your eyes down to me
And make them my own.
Vermin in the skyVermin in the sky10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
vermin in the sky
open palm expects something
sits on a dark throne
Living with the Dead We got used to the zombies. They appeared six or seven years ago. There was a huge furore at the time, of course... people fighting them in the street. But you can't go on like that forever, and there didn't seem to be any way of stopping them from rising, so it was just a case of living with it. They moved so slowly anyway that as long as you had a fairly brisk walk they wouldn't be able to catch you. They just wander along. Unless you're caught in a confined space with a bunch of them all coming at you, you can get on fine with them. Just make sure you lock up tight when you go to bed, and you're safe as houses.Living with the Dead8 years ago in Horror More Like This
Most of us took to carrying weapons around with us. Guns weren't recommended, because there was too great a risk of collateral damage. Most of us carry a baseball or cricket bat, for when the need arises. One guy up the road favours a sword. Mum likes to use a walking stick with a pointed end... good for getting through the eye
rock candy 3"I had a dream I was my brother."rock candy 37 years ago in Other More Like This
Like Minoans, both of them, earth-colored skin and waves of black hair.
The all-seeing eyes.
"But suddenly, I realized that I was me."
It's like puberty for the mind.
What an unsettling feeling, what a liquid, filthy time.
"Yet I was still within his body, seeing through his eyes."
I think I'd die.
"So verily I wondered: am I Tsati in the dream of Bagoas, or Bagoas in the dream of Tsati?"
I don't know, Tsati.
I can only answer with my own dream.
I met a man once who said that he hated persuasive speaking
(he felt it was a lower form of truth-seeking)
that jargon was
Anyhow I don't know very much about that
but I can remember thinking of
what an unhappy man he must have been
if his goal was truth-seeking.
One could just as easily resolve to swallow an ocean
or to go west.
But I gave that all up with intention
let them drift skyward so
this nightmare isn't mine anymore
I leave this in your hands
whoever you are
whatever you're l
the ringlove is not a mischevious youth,the ring10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blindly raining a torrent of arrows
upon the living.
he is a bull
with ancient sinews
and hideous strength,
and now he
parades my defeat
around the ring
on two glistening horns.
lorca runs by,
his face painted like a whore,
waving his arms madly
and urging me to my feet.
but laying here,
i can feel the full weight
of the sun,
it crushes like that
so instead of standing,
i'll concentrate on the wound,
and how it's crafted my shirt
into a makeshift japanese flag.
silence eclipses the crowd
and i listen for your voice.
its absence drives me to my knees,
and i stretch out my arms,
waiting for death's embrace.
but love is done with me for now,
and they've brought a new boy
into the ring.
he is young and proud and beautiful,
and as lorca helps me off,
"i envy the bull."
Let me tell you....The mattress is on the floor. There is one light on, just enough to cast the forms of things in the room. No kissing eyebrows here. *shakes finger*Let me tell you....9 years ago in Erotic More Like This
A shirt off to promise closeness/ /pleasure. And I don't want your pants on anymore.
Feel the nakedness, now. Have your legs ever looked like that before? So...there?
but hey, you've been here before, haven't you? This is all in the routine, and I need to kick myself in the teeth before I drift off to the lies i think you are thinking that only accentuate the awkwardness I'm ascerting.
I want to swim against this awful/ /amazing current and do everything I want done to me.
I want to just stop, take it all in, and slowly..........slowly.........slowly........
I want to kiss your stomach, dust my fingertips against your thighs, and look innocently/ /guiltily up at you.
I want your heart to skip a beat. I want this to feel like hours.
rhythmic and torturing.
undercoversher syllables fell between the shelves of 'ache' and 'secrets'undercovers7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
arguing in hushed ambience
whispering to themselves on the subjugation of 'for' as a prefix
naming each corresponding tear as it fell
for-midable, for-bidden, for-saken, for-gotten, for-lorn
the after effects of for-eplay
its over and they don't come out anymore, anyway
For YouI'm trying too hard,For You10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
trying to tell you how I feel.
Pouring my soul out onto paper,
turning my blood into ink,
my memories and emotions into something suitable for you.
I can't do it.
I'm not here.
This isn't happening.
I'm losing myself to the drama
of others' lives and others' emotions.
In a little while,
I'll be gone.
I'll leave this plain and fade away,
but you don't care,
you're only here to fuel my fire,
to make me write out what I feel I must feel.
I'm already gone,
I'm not here.
I fade in and out of my existence
as I try to create one that's suitable for your eyes.
I writhe on the floor and create a spectacle fit only for my eyes.
You wouldn't want to see this,
you wouldn't want to see me like this.
My pens have run out of ink,
my pencils are all broken,
my paper has rebelled against me
and riddle my hands with paper cuts.
Tuning out all other noises around me,
the headphones caress my ears,
the only caress I'll ever feel
but you don't want to know or hear that.
The beat of the
I Want To Change The World Take yourself back in time, three hundred years or so, to the 18th century, before the industrial revolution. Take yourself back to a time when people lived and worked in the same village. To a time when everything you needed was on your doorstep, and you were surrounded by all the people you loved.I Want To Change The World7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Life isnt like that anymore. And its not necessarily a bad thing. We have so much now that wouldnt have been possible had there not been something of a restructuring of human existence.
However, the new way isnt working out for me either.
We live in a world of big business, of corporations, of literally millions of people making money doing things that dont actually need to be done, but that modern society insists are worthwhile looking at the pay-scales, they are more worthwhile than doctors and teachers. Weve invented a whole level of society, of
Drinking Myself to SleepDrinking Myself to Sleep10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No money, no girls, no friends--
every day I just wish for the end.
I still remember that kiss and
how I would never feel it again.
So now I'm drinking myself to sleep at night
and drowning every morning I wake.
I miss how you tasted, your texture,
the way I felt when I was against you
laying in bed....
I'm drinking myself to sleep at night.
And all I keep thinking is,
"Do you miss it, too?"
I've been drinking myself to sleep at night.
And I wish to hell that you were here to stop me.
things the darkness fearsWe have many roads.things the darkness fears8 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
We have the roads of air, which we traveled with our delicate winged feet, and the roads of ice that we skimmed with only a sharpness of touch. We have many roads, and not all of them have ends. Our roads can wind and stretch beyond time and can lead past mere destinations and places to things and ideas and states of being.
Our roads are old, and they are deep, and they are worn.
We used to travel our roads often; sure-footed and without hesitation we would set forth to destinations known and unknown - there were no dangers for us then, for we are creatures of movement and change, and there are things even the darkness fears. We were restless creatures in those young days, looking only to discover and consume. But as the sun grew dimmer so did we, and we thought more of settling and less of travelling. With the rise of the lesser creatures we diminished and found our homes in the dark and lost places. We have watched others walk our roads blindly, and we have seen t
Gangster Etiquette William saw her enter the pub and looked up from his game of pool. He raised an eyebrow, watching her perfect figure wind its way through the random array of tables and chairs towards him. He made a point of looking her up and down, with a calculatedly lecherous expression on his face. She was wearing tight trousers, and a shirt that was very flattering to her skinny form and small chest. For once her strawberry blonde hair was worn down around her shoulders, full and wavy.Gangster Etiquette8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He leaned on his pool cue and took a sip of his beer.
"Either your boss has fired you, or you're here to negotiate," he said, skipping pleasantries, as he always did. Rachel ignored him and ordered a gin and tonic from the bar. William watched her with an incredulous look on his face as she sat herself on a barstool and waited until her drink was set in front of her. Then she turned around and shook her hair back behind her sho
Vampiric TreatiseVampiric Treatise10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In your subconscious
Ever present, often ignored,
As surely as that
Which is the carrier of life
Flows through your body
I am the one who feeds
On the warm, red exlir of life
I that dread nosferatu
I come to you, knowing your need
Bite the flesh
My day is your night
Those who will satisfy my need
They scream, they beg for mercy
I must survive
Know that this treatise be true
I am watching you, even now
I see your eyes reading these words
I look, and see the blood pulsing through your veins
Waiting for my hot breath on your neck
The sharp, momentary pain
The joy in giving yourself to me
Know that this be true, for I am
And vampires are.....
A Promise She Made With DeathShe was conceived on the edge of a mirror,A Promise She Made With Death4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lined with pretty white lace,
that burned the inside of her parents' nostrils.
She was born with a hole in her heart,
that the doctor's never noticed,
and no one bothered to fill.
She met Death on the playground,
when kindergarten was bending her bones.
Enticed by the glinting of his scythe,
as it preyed on a malformed baby rabbit.
She made a pinky promise with him,
swearing that she'd never forget his face.
He came and went,
swayed by corpse breaths
and east-coast winds,
but always leaving her alone.
He showed her how to hurt,
in the worst kind of way.
And each time,
he paid her a visit,
he'd take someone back with him.
She often asked where he would go,
when his curled claws would drag her mother,
and every love she'd ever fallen for,
into the darkness that he crawled from.
All he'd say,
was that she'd find them again someday,
and that he would take her to them, personally.
But as February,
of her fourteenth year,
Love PoemLove Poem9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
He irritates her sometimes, to the brink of screaming.
There are days when the air between them is icy cold.
She has called him names that she later regretted.
He, in turn, has told her things that have brought her to tears.
But when she looks at him she sees a warmth in his eyes,
A gentleness that's only there when he looks at her.
She sees the man who once bought her ice cream
At two in the morning when she could not sleep.
She irritates him sometimes, to the brink of screaming.
There are days when they do not talk, for hours on end.
He has ignored her when she needed to be held by him.
She has criticized him when he needed to be praised.
But when he looks at her, he sees the one who held him
The night he found out his father had lost to cancer.
He sees the woman who calls him everyday at work
And asks how his day is, and does he miss her yet?
He is the strong arms around her, fiercely protective.
She is the quiet presence he can always lean on.
When he holds her in the dark, she whi