Pick Me Aparti. I want to take a hammer and chisel to my chest and crack open my sternum. Hopefully my ribs will splinter and my lungs will cave in.Pick Me Apart5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
ii. I'm going to take scissors to my veins and snip at them so I can rewire my body how I see fit. Maybe I just want to feel in control for once.
iii. I think I might want to become a doctor so I can learn what it's like to operate on someone besides myself and see how somebody is really supposed to look like on the inside. I pick at my insides every once in a while and although I'm not sure, I have a feeling I'm missing something.
iv. More than anything I want to become a chemist so I can create a drug more powerful than heroin because it just doesn't cut it anymore. The needle marks aren't too comforting and bring up questions I would rather not answer. I used to hate the way I feel but now I just want to be comatose and I love the way I numb.
v. I wish I knew how my brain worked so then maybe I could reprogram it like the time I rebooted my lapto
Of Broken MirrorsI'll write a story out of you one day.Of Broken Mirrors6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And it won't be one of those gushy love stories you know the ones. The ones I used to write for you all the time. The ones about your eyes, your freckles, the way you held me when I was alone.
This one's going to be about your escape.
I was never quite sure what you were escaping from. It could have been me. It could have been your abusive mom, your alcoholic good-for-nothing dad, it could have been that bratty little kid down the street. But I don't think it was any of those things, not really.
I think you were escaping from your cat.
He still meows at night, you know. As if he's waiting for you to come back. But it's a dejected kind of meow, an I-knew-you'd-do-this-eventually-you're-your-father's-son kind of meow. He still tears up your pillow case once in a while and hides in the deep pocket of your sweatshirt that I left hanging in your closet the night you left. I used to change the pillow cases after your cat ripped them up, but then I
rabbit heart, in headlights"so, tell me something about you." he whispered into my earrabbit heart, in headlights6 years ago in Post-Teen (Mature) More Like This
tracing my body with his lips instead of chalk, on a bed instead of pavement
my life is an experiment of bad choices and regrets."
"would you say i'm one?"
"no, you definitely are not."
and we moved against each other. believing this wasn't a
m i s t a k e
regret number one,
i breathed into telephones
and left you brokenwhispers in phrases like, i love you
i was too preoccupied with six vowels and two consonants to sputter out ten digits, redialing you to my heart - a nine zero five (i love you too) eight two seven (inhale and exhale) three nine two four (mistaking, that you knew it already) but you didn't.
you told me that my number had been unintentionally erased from your arm with soap and water
(but i had a hunch it was really a bar of dispassion and a running tap of immorality)
regret number t
Winter Haikuwrimo 2009Winter Haikuwrimo 20096 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
plagues the weather
and my health
despite pouring rain
clinic's A/C is set to chill
what's up Doc?
Federal Territory Day
K.L is a ghost town
except for tourists
the teakettle and I
whistle a duet
the cloudy sky breaks
a free bath!
at the clinic
halls are swamped with patients
to whom does it howl
master, moon or mate?
cleaning your grave
pebbles split my nails
I remember your hands
for the moss rose's bloom
sunrise keeps me company
all questions to be answered...
up 272 steps
"no pain, no gain"
Chap Goh Meh
beaches littered with tangerines
The Boy Who Loves... The woman curled up around me, her knees framing one side of my hips, her stomach the other, with me sitting in the space between each like a picture, begins to ask a question. Her head hangs upside down off the edge of the sofa, her long, black curls fanning out onto the carpet.The Boy Who Loves...6 years ago in General More Like This
"Why is it so hard to cry when you're upside down?"
The question sounds like a set up so I respond invitingly. "I don't know. Why?"
"I suspect it's because if you're crying everything else in your life is very upside down and you should be, at least physically, right side up. I'm not entirely sure though which would be why I asked you."
Of course. I should have foreseen that she wanted a discussion not just to give me an answer. I never know with her though. She's a poet, you can never know with poets.
I'm the boy who loves too much, too fast. She's the girl that no man can ever own because she will neve
dear sean.dear sean,dear sean.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
hi. how have you been?
i'm no good at writing letters, i mean, i've never written one before, so i'm not sure if that's the right way to start one out or not. but i do mean it.
i've been wondering if you're doing alright. i've been doing fairly well myself if you were wondering. i'm still living in the apartment and i've found a steady, good-paying job. the rent always sneaks up on me. but i fight it off just in time. i know it'll get easier once i've been working longer.
anyway, the days are getting warmer and it's nice to go out and walk. you still need a jacket, but it's just something comforting about feeling the sun on your face. i've been reading a good book in my spare time. on the cover there's a hand holding a daisy tight in it's grip. the pages are a bit worn down around the edges but it's a good read, honestly.
terribly sad at some parts, i've cried twice and i'm not even half way done. i'd tell you what it's about, but i know it's not one of those books you'd lik
to spell love - collabwhen i was younger, i used to turn my head up to the sky and try to find constellations. i would stay out in the cold until my fingers became numb and my toes turned blue. after school, id come home with grass-stained knees and complain to my mother that i was hungry. id rearrange letter-magnets on the fridge to form my name, and i always wanted to put yours underneath it. i never did, though.to spell love - collab6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
when i was younger i cloaked my feet in ballet shoes of cranberry feather, dressing the soles with laces of pretty words of who i'd never be. i was simply just a sombre soul with skin painted on like glass, if you touched me i shattered, but in the end it's you who had to walk across the shards.
i considered myself a master of trickery and a player of deceit, concealing myself with heart-shaped lenses and lips perked up like a fish. though some days when i watched blue being smoothed across the sky, i'd chuckle at tiny eye worms stirring beneath my lashes, and i was like
I Dont Dot My I's With HeartsLoving you is like trying to accept the taste of aftershave in your mouth when you accidentally take a swig of it instead of the hidden vodka.I Dont Dot My I's With Hearts6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You manage to choke back the tears as it slides down your throat, fingers groping the sink while you debate to dial 911 or take a few more sips. The vine-like liquid has only begun to initiate contact with the part of your brain that says itmightbetoolate. Your eyes stagger to the bottle you had wanted to drain a moment ago--it was empty anyways. Fuck.
Fear gets the better of you as your newborn legs manage to ground themselves in front of your cellphone and your fingers dance across the keypad. Your lips press against the granular holes, hoping that somehow that will bring you closer to the operator on the other end. Your fingers are busily tapping out "h-e-l-p", on the night stand in front of you, in a Morse code that is unstandardized.
Your voice sounds like you should be dead, but you find your lungs filling with unexplainable
Dear ----,somehow I know that we are not finished.Dear ----,7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
--today I downed a bagel before the sun and you
woke up after I had had my lunch; I was penning essays
while you first struggled with your hair.
but while you slept, this morning, I
was sleeping too.
I had dreams on my eyelids
and it was your hair smiling in my mind that first tipped me off
to the fact that I miss you
even as I refuse to call.
I cannot shake the unfocused circles
of your eyes, nor can I forget
your disgusted voice; I cannot forget that you
are my oldest friend. I cannot forget
the crumpled shirt on my desk--
it still smells like your hair.
by the same token, I know
that you turn my stomach, that lately
your voice sets my teeth on edge. I know
that our silence is heading towards permanence,
and you won't intervene. I know that we
were once more,
but we are now simply
intertwined bones, jumbled
and broken and still bound
by bleeding tendons and pinched veins.
I will extricate myself, I swear.
if you were to call me,
Running BlindRUNNING BLINDRunning Blind8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The sky, particularly dull and overcast, seemed to reflect the growing melancholy of the day. Grey clouds billowed at the horizon, suggesting at an approaching thunderstorm. Even now, flashes of lightning lit the skyline, brightening momentarily the brush-stroke wisps of condensed water and the towering skyscrapers of a city grown too fast, too large. It was if a dragon were loose in the heavens, crying out with bolts of electricity and roaring thunder.
If I didn't know better, I would say that he is weeping for us.
Pale, strangely transparent, blue eyes gazed absently at a computer monitor, watching as the storm brewed. Somewhere nearby, a small window let in certain shades of light, but it was closed and shaded, and he wouldn't have been able to see anyway if he'd taken the time out to look. Even the monitor was fuzzy, as if a painter had left an impressionist's image of reality for him to watch.
A thin, bony finger reached up and twirled a piece of hair,
wirelessI.wireless9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we weren't looking for Kevin Bacon,
weren't trying to find a way--
it was just ten steps
to no one in particular.
looking for damn connections,
screw chaos theory.
I'm gonna find me some sense.
less than three percent of potential
rapists are willing to commit murder
if you are in a situation where you feel that such a person
committing such a crime on you is possible
I'm not good at poetryI'm not any good at poetry.I'm not good at poetry6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I speak of you, the words don't come
Measured in stanzas and sonnets.
When I look at you, I don't think
Of lilies or daffodils in spring.
Your voice, while mellifluous,
Doesn't make me think of song.
When I look at you, you're all I see,
My world encompassed in a face.
My universe is bounded by your skin,
Which bewitches me with a touch,
That I cannot think of does.
I can't explain the way I feel
When your eyes look up at me
With perfect rhyming similes.
I have no golden metaphors
To express the way your laughter sounds,
For when you laugh, it's all I hear.
No, I'm no good at poetry---
I love you far too much for that.
we're just cracks in the roadSometimes, your skin gleams silver and sometimes, I'm four years old again scribbling my name across your chest in sidewalk chalk. Since sometimes, I pretend that you're made from concrete since then we seem a little more permanent and I don't have to worry about my painted heart washing away from your surface. But sometimes, I'm blind. Since these days, I'm stuck tracing the veins that dart through your arms which remind me that you're temporary. And then they remind me of cracks in the cement and other things we can't fix. And then I remember maybe, I can't even fix you.we're just cracks in the road6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sometimes I plaster makeup on my face trying to hide that childlike me with something so easily washed away and I'm fading away just like color in the sunshine when i think of you. I remember what it was like when everything was set in stone and 'temporary' was just a passing glimpse but now temporary is all it ever seems to be with you. I'm left sticking band-aids on our cracked relationship lying to myself with eve
July Haiku 09-1-July Haiku 096 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
wrapping paper scraps
in the wind
the smell of smoke
you come clean
I dont feel like keeping
the wildflower you gave me
dog wading through corn
with no lead
a man shouts and wanders
of cherry pickers
under someone elses trees
a sudden rush
I close the windows
I forget to feed the fish
the tench and the koi
dwell on newsprint
were in for a storm
crosses the cars path
challenging the ace
all eyes on one white line
deuce advantage deuce
reflecting in puddles
still driving down
computers give us such freedom
at the fallow fields edge
bleached wheat stalks
Little Things, Big ThingsListen:Little Things, Big Things5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You didn't hear the alarm go off this morning and you're lying in bed, wanting to sleep forever. School's about to start in an hour and the only thing you move is a pyjama sleeve hanging over your bed.
Down the hallway, you hear the fridge open, your lunch coming out in pieces of bread and chicken. Those hands that carry them are ever so invisible to your eyes. You may as well blink and think a machine is doing all this for you, for all the care you had about the world.
When you finally get up, rubbing sleep from those eyes, a lunch box sits on the dining table, waiting for you.
The screaming begins.
Why don't you get up earlier and make lunch for yourself? Why don't you walk to school instead of me driving you up? What's wrong with you?"
It's early morning. The birds have already begun chirping and time ticks away on the grandfather clock. You have enough.
"Shut up! Just shut up! I'm tired of hearing this again and again. I wish you would just leave me alone and let you
KH - Another Life - Epilogue--------------KH - Another Life - Epilogue8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It was hot out, really hot. Hotter then usual but it didnt really matter much to the couple who were happily in their air conditioned apartment. A flaming red haired man, with the mess pulled into a tight ponytail was talking on the phone, laughing happily as his boyfriend, a shorter, and all together smaller blonde sat seated at the kitchen table with collage work spread out in front of him. As the red-head clicked the phone off, the blonde's gaze shot up.
Well Axel? Are they coming? His voice sounded excited, standing up and practically skipping to his lover, taking any excuse to leave his school work. Axel rose a brow as the younger boy embraced him, a smirk on his lips as he set down the phone and ruffled the mans hair.
No of course not. Now why would they come visit when they know youre busy with collage work Roxy. He teased just as the door bell rang.
Roxas sprinted to the door, almost skidding on t
JoltJolt6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You got left on a metal table
under a white sheet
strung out on red and blue bottles
while they tried to jump start your heart.
I saw the sparks flick off your skin
like the bright scorch of summer
where prayers smell like burnt paper
and the heat keeps you running.
I saw them tape those white nodes to your head
the bald skin glistening innocent
and pull the switch
in a room behind a curtain
the hot bitch of white jolt fever
blistering your thoughts
singeing the palms of your hands
filling the room I sit in
with the impossible stench of hope.
roots. i'm going back to my roots.roots.6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
where the dirt is cool and my lips
are covered in worm guts.
i'm no longer hungry but my eyes
are stinging like fucking hell.
i've clawed your pictures off my
wall because you're no longer
anything to me. you're something
that i regret rather than cherish and
everyday that i wake up i thank
that man in the clouds it is that way.
i used to hold your hand and
let your head rest heavy on my
lap. but now with my fingertips
all burned off and my legs
only skin and bones, i know
it won't ever happen again.
there's no going back and yet
here i am, buried in my roots.
i've made my self into a hypocrite.
i've tried scrub
WakiyaYour wing beats are folding clouds;Wakiya6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wire-wrapping feathers into coats
[and Ill be]
peeling back weather-worn layers,
only to watch you fall.
When your dented beak
finally floated to the ground
It sent shockwaves of despair,
and I named you She Sings To The Sky
Because youd always squawk about thunder
and how you missed it.
But mostly because you sang me lies
about a love you never had.
You were just a kid when I laid
out purples and pinks among the leaves
trying to ensnare you from the sky.
I was scared of you, once
only because every time those blackened
eyelashes fluttered I saw your lightning
hop over rain droplets to stay dry.
the cynic's love songI will not write love poems becausethe cynic's love song7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stars and laced fingers and deep
kisses make me sick. Because dawn
doesnt blossom and the night
always ends. The pillow loses its scent and feathers.
I lose myself in closets, waltzing with skeletons.
The sky fades from violet silk
to rough gray wool filling my throat
until I choke. I will not write love
poems because my soul aches for release,
but there is none. The grass
browns, the trees turn to skinny sentinels, watching
through sleepeyes. Life becomes routine
until I dont notice where my feet take me.
I love yous fall on ears full of cotton balls
and the echo never comes back. I will not write
love poems because love is a baby
growing in the womb of the world:
this time we cannot bear
the weight of it so we walk to the clinic
wearing black sweaters and shame
in the set of our lips. I search for anything
to make me dizzy and forgetful.
I search for anything to touch and never
get farther than my breasts and stomach.
Harry Potter vs. TwilightREASONS WHY HARRY POTTER IS BETTER THAN TWILIGHTHarry Potter vs. Twilight6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Author's Note: First off, I happen to like Twilight. I just hate the obsessed twilighters, who get angry if someone calls Robert Pattinson ugly and say that Edward is a dumb character in both the movie and the book.
So, please, don't get overeact; I like both, but I like Harry Potter way much more. I'm just letting out my opinion thats lodged in my brain, waiting to be released to the public. =]] I don't want any trouble.
1. The characters have flaws. Yes, I know Bella is full of flaws, but Edward is written to be perfect. Harry has flaws, Ron has flaws, Hermione has flaws.
2. Hermione is not as annoying as Bella. Yes, Hermione can get annoying sometimes, but she's not insecure and she doesn't whine as much.
3. Lupin is a better werewolf. He's cuter than Jacob and happens to transform every full moon, just as he's supposed to.
4. Better plot. Voldemort is the main villain for all seven books. I'm not saying the Volturi aren't good villai