Unfinished, untitled.When I was young I was a captive. Not a captive like you were. Not a captive of the school system or the general dismissal with which adults treat children. I was shackled by guilt, no I was cast in it. I wore pretty dresses my sweet mother dressed me up in, and I went to school with ribbons in my hair. I was a pretty little girl. You wouldnt know it now. I grew out of my face in high school. Then, I was pretty, and I felt terrible when the girls from south of Tenid blvd. came to class in hand-me-downs and boys jeans. I was ashamed of myself, I was so sure that my flagrant display of my mothers skills as a seamstress could hurt them. I owned their jealousy. Sometimes they took it out on me, I accepted my punishment. Id have grass stains and tears on my dress. On the way home I could barely place one foot in front of the other, they were so heavy with inadequacy. How could I sUnfinished, untitled.8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chalk OutlinesChalk Outlines9 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
Hold my hand.
and together we'll walk into darkness. side by side.
not to be torn a part.
our dreams trying to lead us into different directions.
We let them die.
like our stories. our friends. our hopes. our wishes.
they got old and worn out. We'd do anything to be together.
(We are a puzzle.)
the 2 of us.
leaving the world around us incomplete
like a big puzzle that's lost it's pieces.
(We were a puzzle.)
we outlined ourselves in chalk. again.
to keep us safe. to stop the outside world from drawing us back.
drawing us a part from each other.
To belong to something that didn't rightfully deserve to
so we came back
and killed it.
everything was alright.
at least for a while.
then he came.
'Eros''Eros'4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We deconstructed our bodies and then put ourselves together in different shape.
You were a soft velvet deer and I came out a white wolf.
We dressed in each other's skin and the clothes felt warm but somehow strange...
I remember the next morning... the taste of your breasts remained sweet in my hands.
Your contracting thigh muscle is still the best part of my lips. I can feel its taste every time my tongue wanders outside in search of you.
I kept a few strands from your hair, close to my left ear. They whisper of late summer winds and of love that will never be.
In the distance the cranes have already started to migrate. The cherry trees have blossomed but there is no one here to rejoice in their red perfume.
It's winter again.
Breathless Blood IIThere was once a girl that glowed like ten AM through roses and chocolate milk. Mestizo flesh and vigilant blood thinly clothing a spirit in American limbo. She turned the airs of the bitter Northwest into steam with her lungs. Stars and gravel rolled under her feet as she shuffled toward the apartment she awoke from most mornings. Her peripheral vision glowed like alleysmoke in February. Her skin was pink-brown; oxygen flowed like rusting wood-embers, a campfire of breath and nutrients against the subtler, crueler colors of the dark small hours. She tasted her life in her mouth; she bit her tongue in desperate reassessments every four to seven minutes. Just to be sure. She was alive that morning. Not because of amino acids and contained respirations in mimicry of primordial oceans, but because she had been told, in no uncertain terms,Breathless Blood II8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
You are not a ghost. by the skin smooth shadow
Songs From the Grate The breeze from Gower street always carried the scent of Turrinos sourdough rolls across the front window of 1321 Divisadero rd. at about 6:20am in February. Give or take about five minutes. Chelcie Antwerp the crossword slave that slept by that front window set her alarm to 6:25 so that she usually awoke to the smell of pastry. On the morning in question the yeasty Gower breeze met up with a pushy column of dense dry air from the east at Pine Street. Now a real wind, it drove hard through the light San Francisco fog and rattled the trees in front of Chelcies window at 6:14, drowning out the faint lullaby that played the air outside. She awoke to a shrill of wind and a swift slap of sourdough across her nostrils.Songs From the Grate8 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Good Morning! she sang to the newborn day, and sat up straight as a board for a long, indulgent stretch. Time for a shower! Chelcie
pizzaThe morningpizza6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
of his fortieth birthday
he eats cold pizza
3.19.10On my way out--3.19.105 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Hanging from the lintel
mail order lamp postmail order lamp postmail order lamp post8 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
like hail the trees sigh sporadically.
timid, we scrub
the houses and street lights
and printed feet
acerbic light into the burrow
and punches into the wind,
like fur we wrestle
we plummet into lusting earths-
sustained by the augmented lace of waves
and periods of blankness.
Observance ISitting, looking in the mirror at thousands of faces and stories. Occasionally tipping the surface to see that it is liquid and evasive.Observance I6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not much that I like beside pencil and paper.
Strange dreams that place me on the other side of a mountain, in the sun, at the beach, observing the high waves of a deep blue ocean.
It can be a blessing when all roads seem closed.
And there is only one way left to take, even though one does not know where it goes, and walk straight down the only path there is, at the mercy of a merciless god.
The flag has been flewn over a valley in mist.
But noone has seen it from below or above, because everyone was already dead and no more able to behold its moves in the wind. At this point in time.
Except me and a couple of strangers.
And upon facing the nature of this grey darkness, this not so distant and seeminlgy endless void over emptiness, I turn around and walk down the other side of the hill.
I walk into a sunny afternoon.
Sit down and get bored very quickl
What Is RealRoses rose from what is deadWhat Is Real6 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
captain captains what has fled
mirror mirrors what there´s not
singers sing what can´t be heard
Lovers love the one they can´t
prayers pray in heartless sound
Death is dying, life is lived
what is given´s not a gift
Shackles shackle what ought be free
solvency solving mystery
thick is what should have been thin
sacred what should have been sin
Flat is round and round is flat
fat is slim and slim is fat
Reality cries within
the nuff-nuff birdhave you ever seenthe nuff-nuff bird6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
the nuff-nuff bird?
it comes from the land
of all things absurd.
it has a bright pink, feathery
puffed up tail, and it makes
a call, much like a quail.
it chuffs along like a
steam train: it's wings
are made of wheels.
their babies sound like
angels when they sing,
but they snap at
their parent's heels.
the nuff-nuff bird loves
the sound of rain, and
they always dance with their
friends, the benanes --
in the rain of course,
they revel in rivulets
and water drops.
but that was a very
long time ago, today
benanes have long died out,
& the nuff-nuff bird went
walkabout. people came &
hunted them down: birds,
benanes and left them doused.
all of them were gone,
all except one. a tiny little
nuff-nuff, alone, just the one!
and so he took flight,
he flew away, towards the sun.
he sat on the horizon,
and sits there to this day.
every morning, every evening
if you look to the horizon,
you can see him. you can see
that bright pink, feathered,
and puffed up tail:
it is our su
DreamsDreams8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I own no one in this.
A night on Nelvaan. Tired from fighting a Horax, which is a beast fifteen meters high, thirty meters long, and twenty meters wide, with four tusks and two horns. In other words, it's one impressive monster. As soon as possible, I slip off to sleep. I have a huge path ahead of me tomorrow
I'm in a field, like those found on Corellia, or in the Naboo countryside. I see two figures dueling. One is shrouded in a darkness that's almost like a cloak. What little of his face I can see looks like a human skull, and he hisses when he breathes. The other is a young man bathed in light who seems to be losing. Every time one strikes, their side gets stronger get stronger and they get quicker. I want to help the young man, but I can't move.
Beyond them are two men. One is clouded rather harshly pulling some taught, thick, jet-black ropes that I just now notice leading to the man in black, and is saying things like "Use my knowledge, I beg you." and "I can feel your anger. It g
suicide attempti tried to kill myself.. i tried my damndest you wouldn't believe.. there were complications i ended up losing a leg.. also now missing my left middle finger.. but its out of my system.. i dont want to die anymore.. i tried so hard life made it clear im not allowed out.. which did not ignite fear but rather that i must have a heck of a reason for being here and i must stay.. but im not afraid of death either.. i saw whats after it.. a voice in my head showed me briefly whats there.. oblivion is immaculate.. theres nothing to fear.. peace that passes all understanding.. i would have gone if it had let me.. but that wasnt that point..suicide attempt8 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
the sequence knocking 555 222 000.. 222 is dewy telling me to relax (dewy my ex cat still with me) 000 is infinity.. it has meaning 0 = let go of hurting.. 0 = to learn how to love.. 0 = to go home.. home is the end.. connecting of the original pieces.. family 4 becomes 2 becomes none. then nothing after that.. oblivion.. the chaos part is either 555 or 0 =
Ope and Ove IOpe and Ove - Some-Where-At-the-BeginningOpe and Ove I6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Standing there and watching love fleeing from one human being to another made me wonder what were these weird things she was making them to do. I saw their hands holding each other, but never their hearts. Kissing their cold lips, their eyes wandering about other people, asking, Can you see us? Can you see how do we love each other? No one has known such love!"
They kept saying I love you" when there was nothing else to say or when they simply wanted to hear it from the other one. Always together, always so much in love, looking at each other and still, every one standing on the other side of a wide abysm with only their backs looking down and their eyes stretched wide open on someone else. It might had been a fear or just their own selfishness that made them stole the freedom of the one they loved. I watched them chaining their legs in return, binding their hands and sticking their bodies...their embrace was nothi
Requiem.¿Cómo decirte la verdad?Requiem.6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
¿De que manera explicarte lo cansado que estoy de estar aquí? Tengo dominio sobre las lenguas que el hombre usa desde aquél fatídico día, en que la torre de Babel se derrumbó y sin embargo, no me entiendes. Conozco el poder de los nombres y el significado detrás del primer verbo, pero no hacer que atiendas mis palabras.
Desearía que te marcharas de una vez; que tu memoria pereciera como lo hace tanto lo hizo tu cuerpo. Me encadenaste al ayer, dejándome ciego ante el presente y sordo para el futuro. Lo único que queda son los temores de un niño jugando a ser adulto en un mundo gris y carente de amor.
¿Por qué insisto en torturarme así? El frío viento en mis huesos debería bastar; mi espina curva y deforme tendría que ser suficiente; mis piernas endebles sujetas al bastón en mi arrugada mano deberían aportar dolor suficiente para entumecerme, Pero no lo hacen.
Make Believe: Chapter ThreeMake Believe: Part ThreeMake Believe: Chapter Three9 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The dragon that wasn't necessarily real opened his fierce eyes,
And took in his surroundings,
His heart skipped a few beat when he realized,
He was back in the Land of Reality,
The land he loved deeply,
Looking around he spotted all of his beloved treasures,
But most of all he wanted to see his Woman of Gem,
He looked deep in the bowels of his cave,
Where he kept his most precious of treasure,
And there she was,
Just where he had left her,
Waiting for the dragon that wasn't necessarily real's return,
The warmth returned to his heart and he once again felt complete,
But it was to be short lived,
For as soon as the dragon that wasn't necessarily real lay his claws upon his prize to hold it close,
All was black,
The dragon that wasn't necessarily real roared in anger and agony as he realized what was happening,
He was returning to the Land of Dreams,
He clawed madly at the darkness,
Screaming and pleading for it to let him retur