trick candle emotions_cthere are faces that don't existtrick candle emotions_c in Free Verse More Like This
and love letters never written
down and we will shout until
tree tops crumble and branches
sway, until spines snap and
there are hearts dissolving
in the atmosphere, and ribcages
rusting down on main street,
and hearts were never meant
to breathe on their own, but
we never did learn how to love.
we are people in two separate
worlds with two different
definitions of the same words
and screaming is like killing
to me and laughing is like
drowning to you and we compute
on a daily occasion, through
error messages at least.
we're breaking the world between
our palms to watch the life spill
out of the fault lines and if we don't
know what we're doing, then neither do you.
we're just haphazard at best,
mechanical emotions crossing wires
and calling the misfires beautiful.
make me laugh until my lungs burst,
bleeding four leaf clovers spilling
out through my nostrils and tear ducts,
i'm smoking trick candles at our properly
first-class funeral cheers.stick a post-it note on my head and stick me in a drawer as if you'll remember me in the morning. but you won't. not unless i cry, not unless i scream, not unless i throw my words against the walls until you hear the pulse, hear the beat of millions of phrases and definitions and images as wild as jungle throats and murdered lemons.first-class funeral cheers. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
beautiful and tragic, gorgeous and oh, my word, isn't she a genius? but they all boil down to one thing: you're gone. you aren't here. your absence is everywhere. i've erased the ends of my fingertips because they look lonely; i've shoved my hands in the garbage disposal because that's all i am. it's not pathetic, it's just life. it's just realities [a million and two different versions of the same tragedy].
my thoughts are wild, unbridled and, let's face it, stupid. they're suicide jumping off the edge of my tongue. you aren't here to fence them in and the natives are restless. they're leaping brick and mortar and cliff and stone. you aren't here. if i rep
breaking hearts for dummies.spin me around and drain me dry, spit my promises from beneath your teeth and pick my scabs until you have me just where you want. press the bruises where they hurt most, hold me underwater until i'm purple-lipped and blue-tongued and scratching the base of my throat to bleed the oxygen from my veins.breaking hearts for dummies. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
cut my achilles' heel and watch as i stumble down the stairs, watch as i hit the second landing and crumple. tell me i look beautiful broken, tell me not to move a muscle, tell me you're going to take a photograph and i'm going to be f-f-famous for the pretty way i break apart.
tell me a picture's worth a thousand words, but wanted isn't one of them. magic isn't either so make sure i stop believing, stop wishing, stop pulling the stars from the sky and hiding them under my pillow. call me a disease and my heart a rotting corpse.
don't let me get in your way. don't let my quaking distract you, don't stop or pause or wait to hear me whisper no, hear me scream go away, hear
it doesn't come free.if you want it, you're going to have to catch it.it doesn't come free. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you're going to have to run until your feet are caked with silt and your mouth is burned with wind, until your heart is laboring behind rusted ribs. you're going to have to chase it through sand storms and ocean tantrums and to the edge of the world and over. you're going to have to strip out of your clothes and inhibitions and fear and pride because it's not slowing down. it's not going to idle in anticipation or pause or give you a fair shake. it's going to twist in currents and cut corners and laugh as it's free diving into still lakes.
if you want it, you're going to have to tempt it.
you're going to have to promise with a honeyed tongue and then confess with bare-boned honesty. you're going to have to be cunning and honest, vulnerable and strong. you're going to have to know the art of silence under blue moon stars and the seduction of words breathed through smoke veils. you're going to have to twist poetry from your capillaries an
these words.take a look: these words are beatbeatbeating just below the surface.these words. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
these words are living things with hungry mouths, souls with voices loud enough to echo against the canyon walls of heaven. they are splintering my bones and demanding more breathing room, filtering through my pores and piling at the soles of my feet. they are reckless and impatient, knocking against my conscience and demanding i set them free. they are flocks of birds and herds of mustangs, loose cannons without an idea of where they'll land but shooting forward regardless.
these words are pulsing with the life i've been feeding them, stealing my sleep and gnawing on the edges of my sanity. they are charging my veins and overriding my nervous system, throwing rebel cries against the back of my tongue and bleeding through the pages until i bend to their demands. they are salty with tears and sweet with ambition. they want nothing less than the entire spectrum of emotion and are draining me dry until they e
the sun isn't a candle.you never did learn that beauty can't be painted on rotting ship hulls. decaying wood will always smell like the ocean's betrayal and the salted funeral salute of gilded words. swirling acrylics will only mask the bleak gray and bled-dry sinkhole of your chest. so, you can sit there and call yourself the queen of your world, the mistress of mystery and empress of lust, but you're taking on water and sinking fast and the imploding sea around you is the last grave your cat-eyes will ever witness. you're sinking like a stone in your hate and deception and the one hand that would have pulled you back is the one you gnawed off at the wrist.the sun isn't a candle. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you see, you had the sun in the palm of your greased talons, the whole reason for expanding lungs stitched between your pores and you discarded it like secondhand news. you never did realize: he's the cause of the spinning axel and the foundation of rome and the song the stars sing to dusk-covered fields. oh, you were just too blind to absorb his light!
i can't see the sky.i hate the word lonely.i can't see the sky. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
it dries out my mouth like i had tried to swallow tumbleweeds, it scratches the back of my throat like i'm trying to regurgitate memories from an empty stomach. it leaves me sitting in the middle of an empty room and wishing the ceiling would cave in because then at least i'd be able to watch the stars.
instead i'm just laying on top of the covers pretending to count them in the drywall and imagining what it would feel like to have your arm behind the curve in my neck. instead i'm closing my eyes and listening to the suction in my veins because i am hollow and caving in. i keep painting you with rich, lush adjectives, but you're just a cardboard pipe dream that falls flat and leaveleaveleaves me without air.
i keep spending my nights sketching your eyes on the ceiling, but i still can't see the moon.
and you know, i keep my hands busy during the day to ignore the faint shaking they do when i know they want to be holding yours. i keep my mouth talking to ignore t
gamble on me.hey boy,gamble on me. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i think you should know that youre twisting my spine into knots and clogging up my arteries and the least you could do is give me a second of your time. i think you should give me a chance. you should know that you make my hands itch when you smile because i want to brush my thumb over your cheekbones. that my shoulders are trembling because i can imagine them resting against your chest, the idea of the warmth shotgunning straight to my nerves.
i think you should know youre making a relatively sane girl misplace her mind.
and i know youre so much more than youll ever imagine, that you are making me tangle words that once lived tucked safely in my pocket. that my fists are clenched against my legs and my mind is unwound around my skull and youre just tipping jaunty lips without a thought.
you see, ive been bottling this feeling but carbonation is beginning to shove against the cap. and i can feel it fizzing down the sides, leaking out my fing
lend me your heart.turn off the lights in your silver-threaded heart and open your eyes. feel your way through the darkness and ease around the sharp corners of my insecurity. be careful, step lightly, don't bruise yourself on my doubts. if you fall to your knees, just keep crawling forward. don't stop, be brave, i need you close enough to hear my whisper.lend me your heart. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i need another soul in the dark to hear these confessions.
i'm sitting in the middle of the ocean, choking on the reflection of the stars, but i think i'm starting to hear the echo of your pulse. i think i can hear the shallow crashing of your breath on the edge of your lips. so, shh, don't interrupt, because i'm starting now. don't shy from this tsunami of emotion or the callous edge of my well-used, wrung-dry heart. i promise, this won't take long.
i just need someone to hear the fears sending shockwaves down my vertebrae, the lonely terror throbbing in my palms every time they kiss in prayer. i need someone to know that i'm floating in flames, crash
i'm the girl.you want to know who i am?i'm the girl. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am the girl falling asleep headfirst on top of the covers to the clackclackclacking of the rain against the windowpane. i am dreaming in tarnished poetry and rotting hopes, birdbone-wrists locking together, fingers plucking the strings along guitar-ribs. i am loving myself even as i pull apart wishbone-veins, stringing myself out across the carpet to pick out the parts i like best.
and i am the girl wandering the aisles of the book store. i am curling in corners with hemmingway, touching the pages like a lover, smelling the ink because im the girl who thinks books smell like faith. im tucking myself between each syllable, climbing down the commas and resting on the vowels. i am sticking my post-it-note-wishes over the adjectives, waiting for the words to bleed through the page and stain the backside of my skin.
and i am the girl holding her elbows when watching the ocean. i am pulling the stitches closed and wincing against the saltwater on my s
Leaving the Day BehindLeaving the Day Behind in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
leave the day behind
to a night of peaceful sleep
stars will bless your dreams
A BirthingThe training groundA Birthing in Free Verse More Like This
is in toothaches
& back pain
you carry them
carefully as good china
across the desert
All the lessons
of your native ancestors
for a life on
the fishing line edge
there is little relief
in the eye of
learned to walk
over years of accidents
& the fairness of
a too old body
how to laugh like
I screwed myself
to your womb
like a bomb shelter
& by your lilac spirit
for both of us
born of a love
built into a colossus.
Running the DistanceI wait to write thingsRunning the Distance in Free Verse More Like This
like counting the
spider webs of your eyelashes,
veins & tiny hairs
of seeing your face
perfect & glowing like
white sand in moonlight
in the complete darkness
of my room.
I wait because
you have made me wait
for six years
& what is nine months
in the face of that
I can grow the words
like a fetus.
I wait because
you would think it's silly
to imagine things
I've never seen
to create images
based on a longing.
You live in reality
& I have always
straddled the line
But what if
the poems won't come
retreating to my ovaries
when you arrive?
My mind a blank box
you somehow forgot
OrchidsMy room smells faintlyOrchids in Free Verse More Like This
of something foreign.
My mother says its
but it smells vaguely misguided
like someone not
trying hard enough
& that rotting.
I wonder how flowers
know which way to turn
to face the sun
& about how for my entire life
I've always had it
facing the moon.
LostWhat can I trade for youLost in Free Verse More Like This
the millions of sighs
I send up to god
that are truly repressed rage,
a photograph of you
I took with my memory
& folded to fit
under my corkscrew heart,
the woman who smokes
crossing the parking lot
like a stranger in her own life?
Every book on the shelf
screams your name
that is where you can find me.
Tucked behind the suicides
& the overripe love affairs
waiting in line
for my turn.
Cleaning HouseI've been cleaningCleaning House in Free Verse More Like This
out the closet
making room to hide
the dead mothers,
that don't fade
in the sun
& every thought
bordering the edge
Sylvia & Anne will
finger the hems
of your jeans
Virginia holding her
above the girlish
The fear of mirrors,
labor pains of panic
induced by parades
& foreign words of sleep
in cream & gold boxes
patterning the lids
to secret their insidiousness
in something beautifully
I fold my little insanities
& put them in the bureau
throwing away all the
Jack in the BoxWhen did I becomeJack in the Box in Free Verse More Like This
an angry woman
wanting to pull the veins
out of a body
& play Cat's Cradle
or Jacob's Ladder?
I never knew how
to create such tricks
with my fingers before
how to make magic
out of a crime scene.
I cannot blame a man
all he did was
create the extension cord
to the outlet
to hang himself by.
I wonder if all the years
of studying serial killers
reading their words,
looking over the photographs
like art pieces
made me long for it,
If the anger was there
inevitable as death
& waiting for adulthood
to spring out of its box.
I am only twenty-one
what do I have to be mad about?
I am still beautiful
that ought to be enough.
RehabsThe doors creak out stories ofRehabs in Free Verse More Like This
every minute I've spent
racing the thoughts in my head
& every time you've smoothed away
my surgery scars
to a fresh finish
like the drywall
you've spent the past
Each time I skulk around the
in the hallways
I can feel all the bar nights
when you held my head
over the side of the freeway
my lipstick smeared across
both our cheeks
& our shapes highlighted
like deformed saints
by lunar carelessness.
Now I've hidden them
under the rugs
with the black widow corpses
& overtired dreams
they can keep their diction
to themselves & the shadow-black.
We don't need it now
you're molding the house
to hold the spiritual currency
we've evolved into
learning to purr at love
instead of hissing & playing
Manmade ConstellationsI listen to volatile musicManmade Constellations in Free Verse More Like This
sung in a sweet voice
pacing the room
like I've forgotten something
I have read us
backwards & forwards
trying to find the place
where we fell in love
was it when you sat
on your parents' couch
like an angry wasp's nest,
when you decided
I was an addiction,
the first time we shared
Or was it before that
when I saw myself reflected
in the dangerous eyes
of your plans
& wasn't about to let you go
I know what it is
purring against my neck
as I fall asleep
& every star above me
is one you've made.
Your ImpotenceI grit my teethYour Impotence in Free Verse More Like This
& I'm not even asleep
I want to slap your face
until it turns purple
then fades to yellow
like your soul.
my heart is a chorus
singing the praises
the power and privilege
only given to those
who can accept it,
with all its sorry faults
like their own reflected.
I want to fight
I want you to scream
or scream obscenities
or just scream
or do something
other than apologize
like you gave birth to me,
never realizing what your
& how you turned me out
into a world stuffed to the brim
with hookers on Colfax,
used condoms on the playground swings,
grocery stores where the pedophiles
& junkies converge into
a giant mess of loss & trashiness.
This is not a love song for you
it is a metaphorical kick in the teeth
for all your uninteresting babble
& the way it burns my skin
like sulfuric acid
dear god, is this hell?
all these words in my mouth
taste like rotten eggs
& you're the only one
who's been in there for months
GuiltYou were drunkGuilt in Free Verse More Like This
balancing on a hillside
like it was
the edge of the world
& twisting a bottle
like a chicken's neck.
You were talking about
how your sadness
hit like a delayed tape
it happened days earlier
but the news only
reached you now.
The bottle kept slipping
trying to escape
with its life
the audio track lost
silence is my enemy
& when I woke up
my metal leg
ached with snow.
Gutter- CaughtNemi crept into the room, keeping her eyes underneath the swaying cloth to check for any shadows that would signify a guard, or, worse, the captain. She reached the desk, finally, and looked down at it- the desk was made of a dark brown, almost black wood, with designs on the sides and fronts of the drawers set into the sides of the desk. Nemi could tell with one glance that this desk was expensive. The kind of desk that she doubted could be afforded when one was making a living transporting food to and from markets.Gutter- Caught in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Calm down, she told herself, so he inherited a nice desk or something. Don't be rash.
Because sneaking into a guarded ship in the middle of the night isn't rash. A rather sneaky voice in her head sarcastically noted.
Nemi ignored this revelation and her trepidation over the desk and began slowly opening the drawers in the sides of the desk, seeing as the top was bare save for a flickering candle and an ornate wax seal. The first drawer she tried opened
Gutter- The LenoreThe Laughing Sailor was, in Loch's opinion, the perfect example of a tavern- at least, the kind his father had warned him to stay away from. So, naturally, it lifted his spirits a little to go inside. Most of the men were already roaring drunk, a few girls were sitting in the laps of strangers and giggling foolishly, and Loch was certain that there was a brawl beginning in the corner of the room.Gutter- The Lenore in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
This was soon confirmed when one of the men threw another onto a table, sending crockery and mugs clattering everywhere, while the surrounding people began egging the two on.
"Over here," Nemi said, pulling him towards the barman, an ugly fellow with dark eyes and very little hair left. He leered at Nemi as they approached, and gave her a condescending snort when they were in front of him.
"Wha' ya want now, girl?" The man asked her, reaching down and beginning to clean out a glass in a dirty pail of water that he had set under the bar.
"Oh, nothing much," Nemi replied airily, gesturing
Gutter- Potatoes Loch, many years ago, had discovered that he was a morning person. This was to the dismay of his father, who, despite having to wake up early most mornings, had always been more partial to sleeping late. Loch had made it a habit of running to his father's bedroom and jumping onto his bed to wake him up as a morning ritual. At least, a ritual until his father ordered Opello to keep Loch occupied when he woke up in the mornings.Gutter- Potatoes in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Now, however, Loch knew that his perception of a morning person and Nemi's were entirely different. At least, he thought as he fumed into his pillow, I woke up with the sun, and not before. Nemi had woken him a few moments ago, reminding him cheerfully that he had offered to help Min this morning. Loch lay still for a few more moments, grumbling quietly to himself, before pushing himself up and swinging his feet off the bed, shivering a little when they touched the cold floo
Gutter(Prologue)Gutter in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A wet splash echoed in the twisting chamber each time one of Nemi's boots made contact with the dank water coating the floor. Despite the slime clinging to her boots, however, Nemi's expression stayed determined, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Her splashing steps were fixed in a continuous, rather monotonous rhythm, until she reached a fork in the tunnels, where they paused. A few moments later, she turned on her heel and chose the left passage, confidence making her steps lighter than before. The package slung over her shoulder swung back and forth as she walked, but she didn't seem concerned in the slightest for it's welfare, tossing it over her shoulder to get it out of her way when it slipped forward again.
Twenty years ago, a person traveling this far underground, even in the treacherously winding sewers, would be decidedly normal. The underground sewers had then been a source
Don't Let Go"Rich!"Don't Let Go in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There was nothing but silence around her. The air felt strangely...full. Oppressive, like it was pressing in on all sides, choking her. She could barely breathe.
"Rich! Oh God, oh God."
She didn't even recognize her own voice, it seemed foreign to her own ears. Each word spoken was muffled, drowned out by the heavy beat of her heart and her halting footsteps. Every step she took she had to struggle, pushing debris out of the way, sharp pieces of wood and metal scratching her legs as she walked. And she had been walking.
For so long.
She began to wonder if it was her hearing that was the problem, or if her voice was simply giving out. Her heart was growing louder every second. Every terrifying second.
Rich, Rich, oh please, please. Her throat was tearing itself apart, but she needed to find him. She wrapped her arms closer around herself. A piece of cracked, torn metal cut through her shoe and sliced into her foot. She fell. She braced hersel
Gutter- Chapter One Looking around the large tunnel she was currently in, she decided against moving him up the stairs and onto above ground. She doubted, if she was found by any guards, that they would believe her tale of how she came to find him. And Nemi didn't fancy being blamed for whatever mess she had stumbled upon, especially with him being who he was- at least high class, but he could even be...Gutter- Chapter One in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Banishing the thought and considering the boy critically, Nemi reached down and wrapped her arms under his shoulders and attempted to hoist him up, giving a squeak of surprise when she realized that he was heavier than he looked. She adjusted him a bit before spotting something on the ground near him- the piece of parchment the other man had been holding earlier. Setting him back on the ground, she picked it up and unfolded it, eyebrows raising in surprise at the letters scribbled onto it. It was written in a strange, flowing letteri
RealWhen they met it was on accident.Real in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her heel caught in a crack on the old sidewalk that was full of them, and her books fell out of her hands and hit the ground almost rhythmically. He thinks that it's the perfect way to meet someone, cliche and nothing embarrassing.
She's had enough cliches to last her a lifetime, and she thinks little of it.
She thinks little of him, to be honest. He is kind and a gentleman, and, at their first meeting, utterly boring. However, boring has a new appeal for her, which is why they meet a second time.
She doesn't realize how much time she spends with him until she calls him one night to talk about nothing at all, simply for the purpose of hearing his voice. The realization scares her more than she wants to admit, and when he picks up after the first ring she tells him that she called the wrong number, apologizes, and hangs up.
Later, she recognizes the fact that he probably knew it was her calling, and finds herself unexpecte
Hug"Ha! Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"Hug in Short Stories More Like This
"It is a gun. But I am also happy to see you."
"...I knew it was a gun, Rich. I was making a joke, you know? Because your gun was sticking out like- oh, nevermind. You friggin' aliens will never get the joke."
"You could try the line again? I will laugh this time."
"No. It's ruined now."
"Is that why you are upset, then?"
"I'm not upset. It just would've been a good joke."
"You are upset. Your symptoms show it."
"Gah- I told you to stop doing that! You don't need to know my body temperature or metabolism at the moment or whatever the heck you were looking for. Stop using your weird power things."
"They are not weird."
"Maybe not on Mars."
"I didn't come from Mars."
"You know what I mean!"
"Sometimes I am not sure, little earthling."
"Seriously. Don't call me that."
"I have nothing else to call you, since you stated that you preferred me not to call you Elizabeth Sandra Lener."
"That's my full name. Just call me Liz. D
GhostSweet the hum of a soft night;Ghost in Free Verse More Like This
I know summer will slip away,
but now it is warm and the dark sings.
It was September
the last time you were in my arms;
I lay with you, thinking,
"You are here, you are still here."
The Death of VenusIf there lived in the world a manThe Death of Venus in Free Verse More Like This
as rugged and as strong as I,
who could forbear with me yet go against,
who took to the black woods and the silver hills
who savored salt and the lay of fur
with fingertips of dirt and weather,
whose lips rolled words like smoke, like fog-
I would creep into his arms in the prologue of the night,
air sweet with the scent of new-cut hay,
alive with the nightjar's call.
Crows"Crows," I whisper and she flies,Crows in Free Verse More Like This
brown arrow shot
from the bowstring of a word.
GardeningYou wished I was sun-swept sky;Gardening in Free Verse More Like This
I am a corrugated sea.
You wanted a t-shirt and
a poem that wasn't there-
I gave you petals and thorns.
Yesterday I cut the rosebush down;
you drank coffee, and
you watched tv.
CotoneasterLunchtime found me in the uncut yard,Cotoneaster in Free Verse More Like This
seeking cotoneaster planted years before,
left like a child, to thrive or die.
Still there, it sputtered green
beneath black raspberry and goldenrod.
Berries coming on
tasted of shade and sun;
grass reached high as knees
where it broke through.
Behind the bluebird box
a bloom of milkweed grew,
it was alive
in more than ordinary ways.
a honeybee O'Hare.
Danaus PlexippusThe scent of milkweed bloom is fairy breathDanaus Plexippus in Free Verse More Like This
laced through a summer breeze;
you see them when the sun has burnt away the dew-
the magic things at play. They taste and tease,
drift and rise among the pollen-heavy flowers,
orange-streaked black against the lavender and green;
you gaze across the milkweed sea and breathless,
watch your wishes fly, your heart take wing.
SubtractionWhen the scything was not yet doneSubtraction in Free Verse More Like This
she sat, a run of sweat between her breasts,
a nascent blister on her palm--
before she took the whetstone to the blade.
Lower down the hill the horses grazed,
tails brisk against the flies,
coats damp in the torpid air.
Robbed, she was.
The day was loud with birds and bugs;
the mowing smelled like lust or love,
She sat and watched the silver sky
and felt the wetness dry along her ribs,
along her thighs and tired arms.
She watched the swallows courting.
One plus one.
Eden"The names, they live right here," she said,Eden in Free Verse More Like This
and with the blunt end of the rosewood knife
she struck the bony place below her breast.
"Black Gilliflower. Look."
The skin was past the shade of darkest blood;
she lifted out another from the bowl.
"A Russet. Feel the skin,
as coarse as sand and tawny gold,
and on the tongue it whispers psalms.
Ashmead Kernel, Winesap."
She said it like a prayer,
or like a gentle letter's parting line-
almost he thought he heard,
"I miss you when you go."
She took the knife, and lightly split the ruddy black.
"It nearly makes me cry to pare the skin away,
but when the crust is browned,
and when the juices rise and burst and drip
against the pan, I will forget,"
and reaching back into the bowl
she chose a Cox Orange Pippin
and she offered it to him.
young summerI never want to grow older, no-young summer in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I want to drive until the horizon falls into the ocean,
I want to dance away everything that ever hurt,
I want to fall in love againandagainandagain.
Theres a sort of comfort that rakes across my scalp when the wind blows, and I never want to forget.
I never want to fall asleep, unless
It means waking up at the beginning of a new day every single time I open my eyes.
I want to walk in the rain with soaking shoes,
I want to sing while splashing in all the puddles,
I want to ride this rollercoaster until the city lights go dark.
Because this ride isnt over yet, baby, so throw your hands up and scream.
I never want to be another face in the crowd,
Not when I could be a star or a flashbulb or a fire.
I want to laugh until it hurts without feeling silly,
I want to soak in the starlight on the rooftops,
I want to be so alight with life that it spills over my lashes and runs down my cheeks and I cant stop smiling.
shredding starsThere was a girl who shredded stars.shredding stars in Fantasy More Like This
She plucked them like fruits, frayed them like fiber, and strung them out like Christmas lights across her loom. She only worked by night because even the softest of sunlight rendered the starthreads invisible, so fine you couldnt even feel them. And when the sun went down, she wove those threads into cloth like silk.
They left scars and calluses across her fingers as they flickered and danced and burned. Her hands were a rough patchwork of criss-crossed fire kisses, but they were as sure as ever when she took her silver silk from the loom and began to embroider it with moonshadow.
It took her seven days to weave her robe of stars, and every day the milky light grew a little paler. The stars began to fade while she kept them in the darkness of the cellar, because the suns warmth still permeated. They were unused to small spaces and they were unsure about burning so close to each other and they ached to stretch their auras out into flarin
static electricity and...I'm a little like an empty grave and a lot like standing too close to a star.static electricity and... in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I'm a different color every day.
I act like a rockstar
(push them around, push them away),
like I'm all about too good for you,
for all this,
because inside I'm melted glass
and I can't feel the way human beings are supposed to.
I should have been born a thundercloud, a wave crashing on every beach, wild with beauty and fury and seeing ghosts in the mist. I'm a misfit, an accident with kinetic energy peaking just before I happen like an avalanche, a hurricane, a natural disaster.
I'm strange like static electricity, like spontaneous combustion. I'm a child who will fold a thousand paper cranes and forget what she wanted. I'm shadows and prisms- bent. I laugh too loud and talk too quiet, and I pretend I don't care because it sounds better.
I'm right on the edge of the spectrum, and I'll probably leave you blind if you stick around too long. I'm a flight risk, always just about to leave, never in love enough. I
turn aroundyour skin was the color of unbroken snowturn around in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and the boys made a game of how far you would go
now you're losing the battle for beauty and wealth
but the strength that you need you will find in yourself
turn around miss vegas dreams
he won't really care if you leave
you don't belong to the drugs and the lust
i'll be your compass if you learn how to trust
remember the days when you were so sure
that this city was magic and your motives pure
you know you still have that sparkle and grace
so put down the bottle and get out of this place
turn around miss starcrossed skies
you're so caught up in all their lies
you don't belong to the hunger and pain
put on a coat and get out of the rain
you've got that potential, that fire in your eyes
take care of yourself and don't let that hope die
there's a time to love and a time to cry
but it's time to make it out alive...
turn around miss jaded heart
life's a dream that left you scarred
you don't belong to the bitter and dead
and you'll never see the star
The Thing About ClichesI.The Thing About Cliches in Free Verse More Like This
If this were a cliché,
A poem, or both
It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.
There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. Well throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.
This is not a cliché anymore.
So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.
If this were a romance,
A message in a bottle, or both
It would still be cliché, to capture electric fingers and longings locked away with skeleton keys, and drugs.
Wed find footprints in the sand and read angels into them. Wed collect rejected roses, tarnished rings, and hopeful held breaths where the tides washed them up, tie them up with ribbon, and cork it all away for someone else to worry about.
This is not a romance either.
So instead I baked coffee cake while it rained, and picked the wee
teslaI loved Nikola Tesla, and when my hair began to curl and my tongue crackled, he told me,tesla in Free Verse More Like This
hold on tighter, baby, it's going to get so much brighter than this.
Marconi whispered sweet nothings over the transmitter, and as the frequency hummed right through my bones, he said,
sing it out, sweetheart, or be shaken apart at the joints.
Then there was Da Vinci, who wanted to paint myths into my skin, and while he diagrammed my organ structure, he'd whisper,
honey, your bones are going down in history.
When Pierre Curie trailed glowing kisses down my neck, I felt my veins decay, radiating pulses of electrostatic magnetism, and as my heart made quantum leaps he warned,
light it up, love, you can't fight fission.
brokentownBroken glass in the gutter, babybrokentown in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Broken dreams out on the street
Broken hearts on every corner, darling
Shattered ground beneath their feet
There's kids dying to be rich
And there's girls dying to be thin
While the rest of us keep drinking
Cause we love the taste of sin
Dirty little secrets
Eat me up inside
Dirty little pictures
From a life I tried to hide
Broken glass in the gutter, baby
Broken dreams out on the street
Broken hearts on every corner, darling
Shattered ground beneath their feet
Beneath the smoke the city burns
A haze of cigarettes and lust
There's a magic in destruction, girl
In every falsehood that we trust
So seek your comforts somewhere else
Take your broken hearts and heroin
Back to your house and lock the doors
Forget the places that you've been.
sept 30 (2000 ton kiss)sept. 30sept 30 (2000 ton kiss) in Letters More Like This
October on the wing
i can tell things are getting bad again because i start thinking in poetry
all the sharp edges of the world stuck beneath my unguarded skin
feeding me imagery and sensation intravenously
i gag on the words as they spill onto the page, overwhelmed, drowning.
on bad days i watch the trains pass and think about hitching a ride,
southbound and down, out of this place.
on worse days i think about standing on the tracks with whiskey on my lips,
waiting on a 2000 ton kiss.
Things we can't fight 33.Eight hours later:Things we can't fight 33. in Fan Fiction More Like This
"What's taking so bloody long?" Gwen complained curling up next to Owen on the sofa and resting her head on his shoulder flicking her eyes between the passing Jack and Toshiko who was still sat alone in her arm chair looking like she could really do with going to sleep but she was fighting it. She was too concerned with worrying about her best friend to even contemplate the idea of sleep properly for days and today was no different.
Jack hadn't sat down since he'd come back and had instead spent the last eight hours passing the room with a very determined look on his face like he was on a mission to dig himself a trench in the floor simply by walking up and down. He was passing for what must have been the six millionth time when the door suddenly swung open to reveal a tall dark haired man in a white coat.
All four of the Torchwood three staff straitened up and watched the man anxiously while he stood in silence leafing through some of the papers on his white plastic
X mas torchwood.They laughed the four them all reaching across one another to pull their brightly coloured Christmas crackers and cheering as they all won a cheep plastic toy and a paper hat from one of the crackers.X mas torchwood. in Fan Fiction More Like This
Reese of course was the first to push his hat down on the top of his head and grin like a child as he watched Gwen and Jack do the same before they all turned to look at Ianto who was glaring down at his crinkled pink crown hat.
"Oh come on Ianto I've got mine on." Reese told him across the board room table, "It's not that bad."
"I know you've got yours on but you're an idiot." The young Welsh man replied still frowning at the other people around the table all adorned with flimsy paper hats and sparkling tinsel. Ianto didn't do Christmas. Usually for him Christmas was a quick hour visit to see him sister and her kids to give them their presents and play fake surprise as he resided yet another tie before he drove the hour and a half home to his empty little flat for a meal for one and a fe
F.G Marry me in red 30.Chapter 30: Promises, promises.F.G Marry me in red 30. in Fan Fiction More Like This
A powdery white plaster board cloud exploded from the lemon wall behind the Doctor's head, "Shut up!" Ianto shouted, "Just shut up! I've had it with being told what to do! I do as I'm told, always have and I don't say anything! But look what happened!" He raged, "And you know what I am in love with two of the loudest, most irritating, big gobs in the world and I didn't get a word in and that the way we worked, but now Charlie's gone. So now. NOW I'm saying something! I have nothing left but the people in this room and Doctor everything you touch goes to shit people die! And I won't let this happen. Not here. Not anymore! Not ever!"
The Doctor didn't move any closer to Ianto but moved his hand again into a better defensive position, "Ianto." He told the young Welsh man calmly, "It's going to be alright. I promise it will stop hurting it'll take time but I swear it will."
Ianto shook his head, "Yeah, alright Doctor I believe you, I really I do. Like I beli
Daddy's little girl 1.Daddy's little girl.Daddy's little girl 1. in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ianto blinked, hoping against hope that when he finally opened his light blue eyes this wouldn't be happening. The young Welshman stood with his dark wine red front door wide open. A man in an official looking blue uniform stood on his doorstep with a bright pink buggy that held a small child, nestled in the white cotton covers wrapped tightly around her. The child herself was fast asleep, her slightly chubby cheek pressed against the sliver metal bar supporting one side of the buggy. She looked little older then a year, but was so tiny and vulnerable looking that all Ianto wanted to do was pick her up and cuddle her.
"Excuse me, Mr Jones." The man asked, looking concernedly at Ianto's completely silent reaction to this new information.
"I... Are you sure?" The younger Welshman asked, pulling the long black sleeve of his hoody down over his knuckles shyly.
The man nodded. "Yes. Is it ok if I come in, Mr Jones?"
Ianto stepped aside, biting his bottom lip, "Yeah, yes
Tosh keep me safe.Toshiko smiled softly to herself looking down at the chocolate brown hair on the top of the mans head that rested on her left shoulder. He looking so beautiful when he was asleep, all his falseness was gone and the lines that had begun to reside on his young forehead flattened out and he looked totally relaxed and innocent.Tosh keep me safe. in Fan Fiction More Like This
The Japanese woman breathed in taking in the sweet smell of Ianto Jones that shed become very accustomed to over the last few months as she gently used her left hand so stroke the sleeping Welshmans hair.
Since Jack had disappeared without so much as word after kissing Ianto in front of the entire team the Welsh man had been hurting a lot and she was the only one who saw it. The first time she herself had noticed was when the team had gone out and Ianto had gotten himself too drunk to be at home alone. Shed invited him back to hers where shes accidentally put Brokeback mountain on. Later realising Ianto was in tears even before the sad
Fly Girls 1: A new begining 1.Okay docky peeps this is the first part of a season I have written of Torchwood involving me and my sister as character. I know a load of people get put off by seasons involving new people but Ive done a whole life with me and my sis as part of it. Please take a look and tell me what you think.Fly Girls 1: A new begining 1. in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter one: Enter the girl.
A girl with short spiky bleach white hair, who was built a little like bit like Gwen Cooper of Torchwood Cardiff walked slowly thought the main room of the secret under ground Torchwood hub. She brunched her hand thought the fringe that covered the left side of her face all the way down to her cheek bone.
The girl made her way over to where she knew Captain Jack's office was. On her way past Toshiko's desk Charlie Jet couldnt help but smile are her new computer screen saver. There was a picture of an young Asian looking man who was sitting in a wall with his arms around Tosh while she smiled and he kissed her black haired head. Both Tosh and J
F.G. Marry me in red 29.Chapter 29: Don't say the name.F.G. Marry me in red 29. in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ianto healed tightly onto Sam keeping him at her side as he repeatedly kissed the on top her head. Sam herself clung to Ianto's blood spattered shirt hiding her face between the white fabric and that of his black suit jacket. She loved the way Ianto smelled of dove soap, apple shampoo, Charlie DKY perfume where she'd been wherein his cloths even after only a day of being back in the country and the slightest him of Jack's gorgeous fifty first century pheromones all at once giving him his perfect Ianto smell.
Sam was doing her best to inhale as much of the Charlie smell that remained on Ianto as she possibly could because she knew that the sent would soon be completely gone but all of a sudden Ianto stiffened and stopped kissing her on the head as he watched something she couldn't see.
The Doctor slowly approached Jack out of the corner of Ianto's grey blue eyes and they grew cold as he turned his head to fix his gaze on the Time Lord, "Don't you fucking
F.G. Marry me in red 1.Marry me in red.F.G. Marry me in red 1. in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter one: She returns.
She'd been living in an extremely cheep hotel in the very ass end of Cardiff for a week, following the members of Torchwood three for almost five days now. Owen, Gwen, Toshiko, Ianto, Sam and Jack looked almost exactly the same as they had done the day Charlie had left. Well Ianto had a long scar running a across the front of his neck, Sam had put a little wait on probably due to the fact she'd had a baby a little while ago but other then that and the wedding rings everyone but Ianto and Jack wore they where all the same.
It had been almost five years since Charlie's lips had uttered the worlds good by to her adopted family and since then Owen and her sister Sam had added to it, they now had a beautiful baby girl called Lottie, the only niece Charlie had and the only person she loved and had never met before.
Charlie's hair once short spiky and bleach blond was now cut into an amazingly messy electric blue black bob with a short side fringe th