Letters To GodThere's a difference between darkness and nothingness. Darkness is being a temporary resident of rock bottom, a shadowy state of melancholy that's only motivated by the fact that you can only go up from there. Dark can be converted to light, slowly but surely, so that we have a glimmer of hope. Nothingness? It's being totally numb to the reality surrounding you. It can only be reversed if you put your entire soul into making something out of nothing. Trust me, I would know.
I didn't have a bad home life. In fact, my family was one of the strongest I had known at the time. I got reasonably good grades, barely ever faltering on an exam. I even had a few people I called my friends, who I thought would stick with me for the longest while. That was when I, an eleven year old girl whose parents sheltered her as well as they could, was introduced to the online universe of cyber-bullying. Soon, after my peers put up this façade of courage on the Internet, the assumed culprits began to bri
you can't make them love you.He is beautiful, new, unexplored. He has wanted to kiss her ever since they met one week ago and fell prey to helpless chemistry.you can't make them love you. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Dont, she says, moving her hands in a subconscious yes pattern along his arm as he rubs his cheek against hers. You dont even know my favourite colour. The wind cuts through her thin jacket, and his chest is so warm.
Red, he guesses, improbably correct. His ears are cold.
And how many dogs do I have?
Two, he says, and she laughs wildly at his luck as he nuzzles her neck.
Im trying to save you, she tells him, pushing fruitlessly against his broad shoulders. So you dont wa
Riding BikesGoing off medication is like riding a bike.Riding Bikes in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
The doctor holds tight to my handlebars and lowers my dosage. The training wheels are off, and oh hey, look at me go! It's like flying but not, and I'm doing so well but then there's a horrible accident and I'm somehow upside down at the bottom of the sea with both wheels still spinning.
"Help," I say, and my doctor pats my head, puts a band-aid on my knee, and writes a note on my chart.
I've balanced by myself for months at a time, but I always end up hitting a fucking tree or falling off a cliff or something equally catastrophic because I am a catastrophic person. Except that is an exaggeration. I am an exaggeration.
I like to compare mental illnesses to mundane physical activities. Also you should know that I am sick but trying to get better.
Sometimes I relapse and then write poems about it.
It's not even the kind of sick where people bring you soup in bed and soothe your fevered brow. It's the kind of sick where I'm late to work because
throwing rocks.so i want to grow up and get a job and make happy, make money, make forget. i can't though, i'm too concerned with windchimes. i mean, fuck windchimes, right? i lie awake at night and listen to rigs on the rumble strip and the windchimes, (mostly the trucks), but damn, the tinkling is enough to keep me awake all night. but sometimes not, and then i dream i drown or maybe i marry a serial killer who props up corpses in rocking chairs or sometimes i dream about my ex-boyfriend's little sister because why not. then i wake up and it's taxes and credit cards and grades and people dying and shit.throwing rocks. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
i don't know what is wrong with me.
i mean i do, though, it's called obsessive compulsive disorder and major depressive disorder and severe anxiety and a bunch of other shit that takes too long to detail, but i'm talking about the pieces insurance won't cover.
also fuck claire danes.
it's just like, when i close the door behind me i push on the doorknob six times plus seven plus seve
encephalitis.she asks, "is it weird to have one day where you really intensely, for no good reason, think of a dead person?"encephalitis. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
the intercom was the one to announce that his body had finally given up. i don't remember what i was wearing that day, or how my hair looked, or what noises fell out of my mouth. death has dulled the sharp edges within me. this is what i do know: some people burst into tears and some people sat frozen and pale and some people simply got up and left the room.
"are you okay?" someone asked me, and i found that i was lying on the floor, though i couldn't understand how i'd gotten there. the overhead lights were buzzing and humming, or maybe it was just my heart. confused, i sat up quickly and let the blood rush to my head in one glorious fell swoop.
"are you okay?" they asked again, and i said yes, yes, i am okay. i am alive. i have to be okay. the linoleum is still cold against my cheek and i can still see i am alive i am okay i am okay i am okay.
but sometimes i wish i had t
numbit is two o' clock in the morning and i can't sleep. or i sleep too much. one of the two, and the pills make three. they stew and burn the back of my throat; the chemicals dissolve and form words.numb in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
the medical literature didn't say anything about that. or the numbness in my arms and legs. the tingling has crept up my right leg for the past week, weaving itself between my toes and nipping at the back of my knee. maybe it's a side effect, or maybe it's diabetes. or a blood clot. maybe my foot will need to be amputated, and i will have to hobble down the aisle for our wedding.
he coughs beside me, still fast asleep, and i touch one of his eyebrows so softly that maybe i am imagining the wiry hair against my fingertip. will he still love me if i only have one foot? i could ask him. i should shake him into reality and tell him about the burn and the tingling and the wedding photos that i will likely ruin.
"i'm sorry," i say, just to hear the words aloud, but he doesn't wake up.
the one tha
waiting.he has been there for so long that the girl sometimes wonders if he is part of the beach, if the seaweed and shells fuse themselves to his ankles at night and grow over his browned legs like ivy. he is always still, so still, eyes focused on something distant in the waves that the girl can't quite see, though she tries. the man has a face like a creased paper bag and she finds herself wishing that she could see inside his head.waiting. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she watches him all day from the corner of her eye but no one ever joins him in his vigil. he is alone in casting shadows that grow longer and longer as the sun sets. the girl wonders what it is like to be so alone and decides she'd rather be lonely on the beach than spend all her time with people, particularly the people she knows who seem to be full of incessant questions and sharp elbows.
the man is waiting, and so instinctively she waits too.
the girl is the only one to see him cut his palm wide open on a shell. she watches the red droplets fall heavily on
heart crossed.heart crossed. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
"who's that kid?" i ask, pointing at the boy whose hair cannot decide if it is red or gold. he holds a basketball in his small hands, bouncing it, once, twice, before putting it through the hoop in a perfect arc.
"james," the counselor responds, and leans closer. "he's a foster kid, you know."
i don't know.
the boy turns at that moment and catches me watching him. unthinkingly i form my thumbs and index fingers into a heart and flash it at him. he nods to his teammates and leaves the court, climbing the bleachers to where i sit.
"did you see my shot?" he asks.
"yes." pause. "i'm kelsey."
"i know," he says, and runs back to his game.
at the end of the camp day i wave to the buses as they leave the parking lot. the final bus clicks and pops to life, and from the last seat i see james cup his hands into a heart and press it against the window at me. i fumble to free my hands and return the gesture, but the bus turns the corner and he is gone.
it doesn't take long for me to vow that if i
the perfect strangershe misses colin the most at night, when, waking from nightmares, her hand reaches out into the darkness for someone who is no longer there.the perfect stranger in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
an unexpected message flares briefly on her screen, long enough for her heart to drop into her stomach in surpriseher ex-boyfriend's little sister's ex-boyfriend? sighing, she types a hello and strains her memory to recall what she knows of this boy from their one brief meeting. his name is aaron. tall. shaggy bed-head hair. sleepy hazel eyes. she lightly touches the keyboard, entertaining the notion that other people might feel as lonely at night as she does.
"tell me a secret," she types to him.
"why should I put my trust in you?" he asks, surprised.
"who better to trust than a stranger?"
so he does.
a five minute secret turns into an hour long story, then a night-long conversation.
the next morning, after telling this boy how colin broke her, she wakes to a message in her inbox:
The world is yours.
Boys are stupid.
march 24th, 2008.there is a chinese proverb that says your teeth will fall out if you tell lies.march 24th, 2008. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
i used to always dream my teeth would crumble from my mouth and lay glittering on the street like coins. i used to dream that the slightest touch jarred them loose, knocked them from my jaw leaving only swells of broken tissue behind. i used to dream of rivulets of blood streaming from the corners of my mouth, of thirty two pieces of myself lying naked on the ground, thirty two tooth fairies that would never come. i used to dream of screaming.
"you know," said my psychology TA, "to dream of losing one's teeth is very common. it typically means that you're concerned about your physical appearance. it's a dream that is prevalent among many young women."
i used to dream my mom would try to kill me. i used to dream she'd push me down flights of stairs or hold a gun to my temple or run a razor lovingly along my throat. i used to dream she'd watch me drown and smile, that she would set my room on fire, would lock
ScarringAt some point in my life I stopped posting pictures that included my left forearm. It wasn't one of those gradual things where eventually I noticed this to be the case and had to search my soul to figure out why.Scarring in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I didn't need to figure it out. I knew. My left forearm is covered in scars, and scars are not acceptable anymore. I've grown up and left behind the things that made me sad -- or at least I've told myself that I have.
It could just be that I learned that sadness lasts forever when it's cut into your skin.
That's the thing about scars, though. If you're sad enough or angry enough or empty enough, you don't care about forever, until one day you're grown up and someone is looking at your wrist with a question in their eyes.
People keep saying that scars are beautiful in their own way, that they tell a story. Maybe that's true for others, but not for me. You can't tell a story from the lines of white tissue on my arm. Or maybe you can, and the story is as follows:
"Once upon a tim
MotherI lived with my mother until I was eleven. She once told me that I was a planned child. Yet when I was twelve she told me she doesn't want me to live with her anymore because "she got her own life now". Now, if she would have been the jetsetting type, I might've understood. When you travel a lot a child can be a burden, limiting you in your personal fulfillment. But my mother spent her newly acquired own life on her butt on the couch, infront of the TV.Mother in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Why do you want a child when you get rid of it after twelve years? I have my speculations about this. She separated from my father when I was five, first we went from one hotel to another, after she went to the lawyer she received spousal support. Even after I got older, she never looked for a job. She just didn't wanted to work, always had excuses. She was lazy. My father later told me it's always been like that, even though he got her a well-paid job in a big firm (prior to my birth), she always complained about work and later
The Wedgie Game Again, I found myself at my friend Breanna's house while her friend Roxanne was over. Breanna's father wasn't home, and we were just sitting around outside talking. Breanna's house was small, and kind of empty outside except for a few bushes and trees. We sat in a few plastic chairs by the house, next to a huge oak tree with strong, curling branches.The Wedgie Game in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
"Hey..." Breanna said, "You know how we've all gotten wedgies lately? Both of you, me, and even Lacie?"
"Yeah," I said, "You had cute panties."
"Well," Breanna continued, getting a devilish gleam in her piercing blue eyes, "How about we play... the wedgie game?"
Roxanne and I were confused, of course. We asked her how to play. Breanna explained the rules. She pointed to the oak tree, and said that if we wedgied someone, we had to hang them by their undies on the tree. She picked up one of the plastic chairs, and brought it over to the tree, placing it under a part
Embarrassing Stories: Hanging Wedgie Growing up in the country with no friends around was boring, even though I was too young to understand what boredom meant (although I had an idea when my mom took me to the bank). The place I used to live had a lot of trees around, so I learned how to climb them.Embarrassing Stories: Hanging Wedgie in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
If you've read the title, you can already see where this is going.
Even after we moved, I managed to find trees to climb. In fact, there were even more around this time. Our new house had a long driveway with a few turns, and trees covered the sides of the driveway from beginning to end. You couldn't even see the house from the road.
The tree that I really liked to climb was right in view of the driveway, so it wasn't very far from the house. It had a bunch of strong branches, and each of them was covered in leaves. One time I threw a Frisbee and it got stuck in the leaves, so we threw a soccer ball up to get it down. The Frisbee came down, but my beloved ball got stuck.
Yanking her panties at the playground It was a few days after we wedgied Lacie on the bus, and I still wanted to get Breanna.Yanking her panties at the playground in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Breanna and I were hanging around together by ourselves, without Roxanne. We basically just rode our bikes around and found a playground on the outskirts of the small town we both lived nearby. It wasn't a big one, a few stairs, bars to climb on, slides, swings, and a merry-go-round.
Naturally we both got on the merry-go-round first and began to spin. When that got boring, we went over to the slides. The slides were bright yellow and unusually steep for a children's park. Breanna wanted to go down the slide first, and I obliged. The tall girl came and sat down on the slide, ready to go down. I noticed a blue waistband sticking out of her pants. I saw my chance, and I went for it.
Breanna opened her mouth in a joyous scream as she shoved herself down the slide. I lunged, and missed. Breanna didn't get a wedgie this time. Unfortunately, I had lea
School Bus Wedgies This story happened back when I rode the bus with my friend Breanna and our mutual friend Lacie.School Bus Wedgies in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Breanna and I were sitting together in one seat while Lacie sat in the seat in front of us. Breanna was (and still is) bigger than I was, so she was taking up a lot of the seat while I sat against the window. Somehow, there still managed to be enough room for both of us and our backpacks. Lacie was sitting in the seat in front of us with her backpack.
A bit of description here before I go on: we were alone in the back of the bus because most people were gone (our stops were near the end). Our bus driver never really cared what happened as long as we didn't go in the aisle (anyone notice that seems to be every bus driver's pet peeve?), so we usually got away with doing whatever. It didn't matter how loud we were or what we talked about, she just did not care.
Lacie seemed a bit tall, yet I was still a bit taller than she was. She was a
I kinda wedgied two girls... I was over at my friend Breanna's house one day. She had her friend Roxanne over, so it was me with two girls. Breanna was a tall girl, bigger than Roxanne and I. Roxanne was a short girl and I was in the middle height-wise.I kinda wedgied two girls... in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
We were over there one day just talking. At one point, I lifted my arms up to stretch and yawn. I guess my shirt must have lifted up, so the waistband of my underwear was visible to the two girls looking at me. I didn't know it until Roxanne said something.
"Hey, I can see your undies!" She said before they both laughed.
"Oh yeah?" I said. Then, looking directly at Roxanne, I grabbed the sides of my underwear and pulled them up out of my jeans to show them to her. Breanna began to laugh while Roxanne blushed and looked away.
We continued talking for a while until Breanna decided to try to wrestle me. We started rolling around in the grass. I was pushing her off me and she
In my defense, she stole my phone So I was just over at Breanna's house with her and Roxanne. I was wearing really tight jeans that day (due to a growth spurt, I had no loose pants), and had my phone in my pocket. My phone is an Android, and it's pretty big. There was no way I could fit that phone in my pocket without it going unnoticed. It looked like a big block on my leg.In my defense, she stole my phone in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Of course, Roxanne noticed. She was sitting next to me, and suddenly reached into my pocket and pulled my phone out with her small fingers in one quick move.
"Hey, can I use this?" She asked.
Like an (idiot) gentleman, I said yes and did my passcode to unlock the phone. Roxanne grinned, as though to say "Jackpot!", and then began looking through my phone while Breanna grabbed my arm and tried pulling me to the ground. We wrestled for a minute, and then I saw Roxanne eagerly bent over my phone. I rolled over in the grass so I was next to her, and saw that she was looking through my photo galler
Hopping a fence went wrong. Horribly wrong. So Lacie and I were hanging around some random school recently.Hopping a fence went wrong. Horribly wrong. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
The school was a huge place that neither of us attended. We were just going around and came across it. Since it was a weekend and it's summer, there was nobody around. We started off by all the sports fields. The main 2-story school building was beyond the baseball field (where we currently were) and a large parking lot. There was a football field next to the baseball field, so I could tell they took lots of pride in their sports teams. Next to the football field was a track, with tall bleachers. Lacie and I had to navigate through a maze of fences, which were setting the borders where one field ended and another began.
Lacie and I didn't want to walk around the entire baseball field, so we decided to just climb over the chain link fence. I got over quickly, landing neatly on my feet. I turned around and saw Lacie, still struggling on the top of the fence.
Locker Room Wedgie Jenny was a bit nervous about her new school, specifically the fact that she didn't have any friends there. Today was her first day, and she dreaded every minute of it. Who would she have lunch with? Who would she sit by in her classes?Locker Room Wedgie in Short Stories More Like This
...What if they made blonde jokes?
The school had sent Jenny a list of her classes to her email address. She had Math as her first class, and she groaned. That wasn't at all how she wanted to begin the day. Her bright green eyes swept down the list. History. Literature. Lunch. Science. Her final class... she sighed. It could have been worse... Gym. Jenny was afraid to get sweaty, but at least she could go home afterwards.
With her schedule printed off and folded into her pocket, Jenny went to her new High School. The move had been rough, but it seemed like a nice new town.
Jenny arrived to school, and received the typical "new kid" stares. She had anticipated these glances, and had ma
F: Locker Room Wedgie 3 Jenny spluttered and choked. The water filled her mouth and went into her nose. Her hair became wet, and clumped together, swaying back and forth only to come back and slap her in the face. She tried to fight, but the two girls to either side of her held Jenny's hands firmly in place. Her butt was up high in the air, her own panties digging between her cheeks. Her face was bright red; she wasn't sure how to respond to getting a swirly, let alone a swirly while also getting a wedgie!F: Locker Room Wedgie 3 in Short Stories More Like This
Billie and Danielle were holding Jenny's arms to prevent her from fighting, occasionally tipping her forward to get her head in the toilet again. Nobody even had to ask who was holding Jenny's panties up in a wedgie: Harriet, of course, keeping a firm grip on Jenny's bright blue panties, decorated (embarrassingly) with yellow polka dots.
Billie and Danielle tilted Jenny out of the toilet water for a moment. Jenny gasped in air and felt the cold liquid run down
F: Locker Room Wedgie 2 Harriet was practically stomping down the hallway toward the school gym. She hated gym class. It was just a complete waste of time; the only good part about it was that Jared Gleeson got to see her in her short tennis shorts (that really shouldn't have been allowed by the school dress code). Other than that, Gym was just a bore. Yesterday was the exception when the new girl arrived... what was her name? Ginny or Jenny or something like that. She had stepped on some random bag on the gym floor, and Harriet had exploited the moment to have a little fun. The girl never even knew the bag wasn't Harriet's.F: Locker Room Wedgie 2 in Short Stories More Like This
Her friends Billie and Danielle, two tall girls, had pulled down the new girl's shorts and Harriet had given her a hanging wedgie in the locker room throughout the entire period yesterday. The new girl had had some stretchy panties, but Harriet doubted this class period would be as fun as yesterday's.
Billie and Danielle were already in the
fairy tales are like real life except no one dies.pretending is somethingfairy tales are like real life except no one dies. in Free Verse More Like This
you can only do for so long.
i am tired of pretending.
i wish the world knew
how sick i am of it already.
the days are long, quiet,
boiling sunshine scars
flesh like cigarette burns.
wind whistles like a
mockingbird that's finally
gotten his own song but
is too shy to sing it,
trees rustle and leaves
muffle in the cacophony
of the world's perpetually
profuse state of sad.
pencil tips snap, crack like
the bones of lost brethren,
scorned even through the
haven we used to call home.
the words etched fluidly
in my veins, ink spewed
blue before oxidation
has repercussions only
when there's affirmation.
i wish you knew how badly
this pretending makes me
feel, strangled by the
dull touch of lead in
the lungs of the breathless,
tears of the hopeless
stain mattresses of
an effervescent childhood.
we cannot hope any longer.
we can only pray that
the pretending will stop
and that you'll look
at the spattered pieces
of notebook sheets
ever so slightly littering
the ground y
constant longing, forever past.minutes turned intoconstant longing, forever past. in Free Verse More Like This
hours turned into
days turned into
weeks turned into
months without you.
i didn't think that
i could do it. really.
i thought it would
be over, disappeared.
i thought i would be
decimated, and i
started out that way.
but now i must heal
the wounds that i
faced every time i
saw yours, you're so
beautiful on the
outside but on the
inside, you're a
monster, never rest.
you look at me like
what we had never
existed, and quite
frankly, i'm okay
with just that. i'd
rather you view me
instead of hatred.
all this time has
gone by so quickly,
do you remember all
those good times that
we made together?
nostalgia eludes me,
because i don't.
i remember only the
bad things, the
fights, the shouting
matches, the days
you would force your
hand onto mine to
avoid my self-injury,
those days you nearly
cried, but never did.
i remember only when
we weren't, but
at the same time,
this is where we were.
this is who we were.
this is what we were.
it's going to be okay. it's all going to be okay.i don't know why it's beenit's going to be okay. it's all going to be okay. in Free Verse More Like This
so long since i've written a
poem but i have subject matter
to write about as of now.
i was sad. you were there.
you told me i was beautiful.
"we need you, i need you."
it's going to be okay.
"just breathe for me. i'm here.
you'll always be safe with me.
i'll always be here for you."
those words stings because those
were the exact same things she
always said and where is she now.
it's going to be okay.
you tried to assuage my tears,
placate me, pacify me, pretend
you love me more than anyone else
just in this moment, why do you
insist on being so nice to me.
"because i care more about you
than anyone else. i want you
to be in my life for a very long time."
what the hell is that supposed to mean.
it's going to be okay.
"love you." but then you called me
the wrong name, whoops, intended
for your girlfriend, not for me,
stupidly i thought you may have been
falling but apparently we've both
fallen too far to stop already.
don't hold my hand if you love her more.
a pencil lacking lead is just like an open wound.she doesn't understand the beautya pencil lacking lead is just like an open wound. in Free Verse More Like This
that she's capable of. she can figment
the most beautiful picture and not
even try, her mind is a blank canvas
and her thoughts are like the medium.
swish and splash the red paint, blue,
oxidize me with your catatonic breath,
subtle pencil marks like the veins
that pattern your milky, flawed flesh.
hide behind your eraser shavings, you
always doubt yourself too much, you're
incapable of making a mistake, now.
sweetness, caress this empty sheet of
paper with your carefully chosen
words and help me heal the insulting
that had been caused from all injury.
take your pen and etch indelible phrases
into your aphoristic lifestyle, you
live by age-old techniques but you've
got a modern soul, i want you to wrap
me in your mosaic smiles again. keep
the crying coming, tears are the perfect
base for watercolors. you might be
paranoid but i should inform you that
i am okay. just as long as your sketches
continue to swarm me, encase me with
their warmness and light,
mended.torn and shattered,mended. in Free Verse More Like This
bruised and battered,
sick as hell, not
dead, not well, you
let me live vicariously
through all your precious
misery, i wish you
let me live in you
after what i did to you.
i thought the reason
for your changing season
was unrequited, love
ignited deep within
a hatred strong, although
i loved you all along.
piece the pages
this stormy weather.
whether or not we
try to hide, this
feeling cannot be
denied, i've tried
so hard to disappear
but i want attention
when you're near.
i fear you'll hear
a sketchy phrase
in which awareness,
i will raise my hand
above and make notice
to the one i love
that i am better
all the while, and
they're the reason
i will smile.
i saw your face, your
eyes they glimmer with
the most iridescent
shimmer, thinner lips
and wider hips,
unshakable and breakable
blossomed in the dips.
when my tears fall like
shedding blood, they're
near as heavy as a
thud, but you, my doll,
wipe them away and wish
for me a better day
a reminiscent poem about nothing and everything.a breath can mean so much more.a reminiscent poem about nothing and everything. in Free Verse More Like This
a fear keeps me from catching it.
actually, it's more than fear.
an enigma possesses me like the strongest gale.
avid dreaming is destroyed by nightmares.
bound to be broken sooner or later.
breathe your lifeblood into me.
can you help me?
can't you help me?
cancerous thoughts spread like wildfire.
cold hands don't hold mine anymore.
cough up blood to keep from choking.
crying isn't optional--it's recreational.
dancing thoughts evade me like fairytales.
don't you want to call me?
don't you want to keep me?
don't you want to save me?
doubt is the only thing keeping you from answering.
each teardrop is a story.
even the bad ones.
even the good ones.
even the ones about you.
fly far away to avoid me, sure.
friends and fiends are closer than you think.
go back to how it used to be.
grow a bit of hope in your soul.
half of the memories are about you.
half of the memories are craving you.
how i miss you.
how i miss you holdi
something's gone but i'm too tired to look for it.fluidity.something's gone but i'm too tired to look for it. in Free Verse More Like This
that's all it is.
where some people
let their words be
smooth, i halt mine
with awkward breath
marks and unnecessary
punctuation. i lack
to be eloquent
and to be well read
are two completely
i am not pedantic.
i just like words
and use them even
if they don't fit.
because i don't have
i'm choppy, brittle,
snappy words like
bubble wrap, quick
and crunchy like
chopsticks on a
keyboard, i can't
use proper metaphors,
for that would
defeat the purpose
of my piece. why
would i change
i can easily lose
i don't care how
the words get out
just as long as
they spit out
if i had a different name.they wouldn't look at meif i had a different name. in Free Verse More Like This
any differently than if
my name were amory, that's
literally meaning "loved one"
and i'm not one to be loved.
even if i was more beautiful
than the most spacious of seas
my name is still not orabelle
or anything that pretty.
tell me that i'm practically
imperfect, i'm not as delicate
as a lorelei, i'm not tempting
enough, call me anything.
i'm not as fair as a finley or
as shimmering as a soleil, but
i can be as bleak as a bronwyn
and dark as delia as if you
address me as anything else.
let me be audrey, an orville,
ezekiel, let me be strong in
how often i'm called because
frankly, i'm diminutive, tiny
and small in comparison to
all of these names, am i
really quite as dear as you say?
if i were adaliah i could leave
myself parched, deprive me of
any identity i claim to have.
if i were talullah i could drown
myself in my own sorrows because
i'd never know the truth anyway.
even if i were seraphine, i'd still
burn away in this hell of a life,
fire cannot be foug
the moment i realized you were a precious memory.i am not perfect.the moment i realized you were a precious memory. in Free Verse More Like This
but neither are you.
we are both human,
faced with the daily
challenges and the
most indelible days
ever engraved into
our minds, beauty
encased with fantasy.
but i was not wrong,
you were the one
who deprived me of
the common courtesy
of a response. you
denied me the most
simple of civilities,
and i have lost all
respect for you.
i miss the old you,
but not the one who
lied to me, i don't
care about her.
i need to move on
with my life, i can't
let this one person
dictate my life, the
course of my future
should not be left
up to one individual.
so here, i write my
last words to you.
each poem, note, and
conversation is in
the past, you cannot
control me anymore.
you may not love me
like you used to
but others sure as
hell do, and that's
all that matters.
i still have the
letter you wrote to
me about how goddamn
wonderful i am, but
i don't need you
to tell me that. i
can figure all of
that out on my own.
Murder in the First, Second, and ThirdThe first time it happened, she was drunk.Murder in the First, Second, and Third in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Kissing in his bed, hands locked on his face, how difficult would it be? Phone on the bedside, the password his year of birth and high school jersey number and all she’d have to say was that he was going to spend a few days at her place. His roommates would be disappointed but not surprised. Break your heart, break your heart, that girl’ll break your heart. But none of them would count on this, no one would notice until he didn’t call his father or the unfamiliar smell of human death crept into every reach of the apartment. Keys in his pocket, cutting into her thigh, she could take them and head for the coast. Head for the border, even, and slip away. If she got caught, she’d claim she had no idea what was happening when it happened. If she got caught, she’d smoke cigarettes in prison and cut her hair short. If she got away, she’d never think of him again.
She bit until she tasted blood, and then rolled out
Do Not Fall in LoveFall in love with an actress in a movie, someone with cinema red lips, the color of your seat. Fall in love with her because she is beautiful and, just maybe, with the right box of hair dye, you could be her. Do not eat lunch. Skip dinner. You never ate breakfast anyway, so that's alright. Gorge yourself on cake and cornflakes when you get home from work, feeling like your stomach lining is eating itself. Do not buy a box of hair dye.Do Not Fall in Love in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Fall in love with the boy on the train with the high cheek bones and sepia-toned skin. Fall in love with him because he is dangerous. He has gages in his ears and tattoos too high on his neck. He might have a gun; the two of you could become bank robbers. Imagine sitting next to him and whispering something in his ear. He will love your white lace dress and innocence; he will free you from both before the night is over. Despair when he gets off five stops before you. Do not follow him.
Fall in love with the professor of the night class you're taking to ke
OrdinaryMost people fall in love with the extra-ordinary.Ordinary in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You are not most people; never for a moment try to believe you are. You stand out from the crowd, with your quiet ways and subtle humor, and, in the beginning, that's horrifying. But soon enough, you will learn to lift your eyes and set your jaw; you will learn the word no when it comes to fools; you will live emblazoned over the world like a fiery rainbow.
You will learn many, many things in the coming years.
You will learn to smile with all the vibrancy you have tucked away inside of you, and you will learn to be that other kind of beautiful. The kind that dreamers and thinkers are. You will grow your hair out - yes, down to your waist like you always dreamed - and it will tickle your elbows when you laugh. You will define your own fashion sense - not what's popular, but something entirely unknown and entirely you. And it will be more than ordinary.
You will learn to laugh and cry and love and talk. You w
.:because the world today:.we no longer lay on our roofs to watch the sky,.:because the world today:. in Free Verse More Like This
nor do we smile and fingerpaint [but we cry];
we don't tear up at movies
nor run, fearing scraped knees.
we don't awake to watch meteor showers
or catch hummbingbirds drinking from flowers.
we no longer "compare thee to a summers' day,"
instead we say, no, text, "i <3 u!" [so cliche!]
we are no longer aware of who walks the streets today - foe or friend;
we have crawled into ourselves, waiting for the world to end,
but never have we stopped to think, to wonder, to imagine:
what could we be if we could again begin?
.:magic.:magic in General Fiction More Like This
a woman stands alone at the street corner, a wreath of snow about her shoulders and ice-kissed strawberry cheeks. she gazes out at the empty road from beneath thick lashes, waiting.
it has been two years since the loss that changed her life. two lonely christmases and [365 x 2] lonely dinners and [525,600 x 2] lonely dreams and [too many] wistful lonely thoughts.
two silent years.
and now she's going back.
she hears soft footsteps, hesitant, crunching against newly fallen snow. she doesn't look up.
he sees her, a sole soul amongst flurries of loss, and he knows it's her. taking a deep breath, he continues towards her before stopping in front of her.
"isabelle," he begins, but trails off, unable to find anything else to say. he looks at her face; it is surprised, tinged with sadness and anxiety. her blue eyes are searching, mediterranean-blue waters like mid-atlantic trenches.
it has been two years since he was captured. two fear-and determination-filled new years' compromises and [365
Liv"It's time for your chemotherapy now, honey. You can come back here once it's started." During the time spent at the Children's Hospital, I must have heard the scrubs-clad nurses saying that in gentle voices at least fifteen times. Each time, there was a pang of sympathy and encouraging smiles. The young patients in the Arts Neighborhood (Cancer Center) at the Children's Hospital are my role models; each has a smile and a personality that transcends his or her cancer.Liv in Emotional More Like This
During the summer, I volunteered daily at the Child Life department of the hospital; I wasn't a helper, but a friend and playmate to the patients there. On a Tuesday afternoon, after the Arts and Crafts session during which I painted a tiny tea set with a young diabetic, I was asked to keep a four-year old company for about an hour. "Her name is Olivia, and she's in Arts. Room 3##."
Arts. I nodded to the supervisor and made my way to the closed double-door ward where most of the cancer patients lived. The walls in this "n
prometheus_cthis isn't the beginning of a new end or the fall of an old empire, but something entirely different. it's something a little like the quiet after a fight or the silence as a hundred people walk past you in a [lonely] crowded city. this is something like that.prometheus_c in Short Stories More Like This
this is what it might feel like to become everything around you, to forget you exist. this is like realizing that it'll come back to haunt you, this is remembering you're not immortal. this is the few coldest days of winter and the hottest days of summer, and this is like the first time you tried a little, and you still fell. this is something like that.
but this is also like reaching the bottom of that ice-cream cone and being the first to get to the top of the jungle gym [but only to realize you can't get back down]. this is something like finding that even though you finished last, condolences are paid handsomely [by bright green eyes and a comforting hug]. this is something like that.
but sometimes, this isn't like any of tho
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 130 Day Trans Challenge: Day 1 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When did you learn the term "transgender" referred to you?
That's Hannah up there.
Well, You see I grew up in a Christian house with 5 older siblings (3 sisters and 1 brother). Yes, I grew up as a little girl and never really heard the term Trans till about the age of twelve or so. During that time I knew there was something different about me compared to the other kids I played with but obviously didn't really pay much attention to it. My friends and I played "imaginary games" Where now I'd just call it poor roleplay. hah. But they always had me play the boy roles and told me that I'd make a really cool guy or that I'd be better as one. Which only furthered my confusion though I didn't think too much into it.
Once I started 6th grade I instantly became best friends with this girl named Lucy. I found her adorable, really nice, cool, and slowly found that my feelings drifted from best friend to love interest I guess. So one night when I slept over she kisse
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 16-2430 Day Trans Challenge: Day 16-24 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
17) What's your binding choice and why?
Well my one and only binder is 997 at Underworks and it's really comfy and works really well.Though since its like a wifebeater, it likes to roll up abit sometimes which pisses me off. XD;;
18) How do you feel about the trans laws where you live?
Well the only one that I can name off the top of my head is that StarBucks have in their policy that they don't hire Transgendered people. But uh, I don't really know any other than that.
19) If your religious how do your views effect being trans if your not religious what about your family religions?
Well like I mentioned a long while back, my entire family are Christians. Well besides my brother who is Pagan, which is cool too. But as much as I'd like to call myself Christian as well, I've just been having alot of trouble. I know that other people can't speak for god and no matter what they say when they say things like, "God doesn't love you, you're sinning." It's still jus
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 230 Day Trans Challenge: Day 2 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
2. How did you choose your name, and what names were you thinking about using and why?
Well I've always liked the name Kyle. Nothing really had me emotionally attached the name- I just have always really liked it.
I knew that I liked it completely when I went to visit my brother Nikolai you see. I took the train to the city to stay 5 days and nobody called me by Kyle. Or even tried to be honest. It was very annoying and I didn't like it one bit.
Anyway, I forgot to mention that I only had told a few people online and my mum who told my dad then told my sister Rosemary. My mum doesn't quite get it but is trying though when I told her she said in these words,
"You'll always be my beautiful little girl."
Which hurt alot for me since, No. I am not a little girl. I am a 14 going on 15 year old Guy. Sure my body says otherwise, but that isn't anyone's business other than my own. You know? Someone's body shouldn't be able to define who a person is.
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 630 Day Trans Challenge: Day 6 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
6) Who was the first person you told about being trans
Well I know this question only asks who the first person I told- I may as well say a few since otherwise the question would have a 3 syllable answer. lol.
The first few people I told were all very good friends of mine. Three who I know in person and two others who I know over the internet. Though I didn't tell them face to face because I sometimes have trouble communicating important and serious things with my voice. Their names are Jayden, Jordan, Madi, Sammy, and Andrea.
Yes Andy I put you last soak it up. xD
But after telling them, I was happy to know that they all understood and were totally okay with it. Like I said, they're all very close friends of mine. Though I did find it kind of funny that Jordan, (a friend I've known in person for a good eight years of my life) Said that she wasn't all that surprised. When we were little I always wanted to play with her brother and his toys which I find kind of funny n
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 1330 Day Trans Challenge: Day 13 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Well as much as I'd prefer using the mens now, I'm still not passing enough and kinda freak out when I have to choose. It's just awkward for me, for example I was at the mall with my brother and we took a trip to the restroom and I paused outside of them- just standing there awkwardly, trying to figure out which one I should enter. But it was embarrassing since people were around me so I rushed to the girls room.
So yeah, once my binder gets here in the mail I'll probably take a few trips in there to build up courage. But till then I just avoid public stall bathrooms because it freaks me out. Oh lol I'm ridiculous I know. Though another stupid/silly thing about this topic is that even when I can bring myself into the mens room I'd obviously use the stall. Getting a STP has never crossed my mind though because I'm a baby and think that guy parts and lady parts are really gross. SHOOSH IM A BABY.
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 1430 Day Trans Challenge: Day 14 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
14) What are some of your passing tips or things you do to pass?
Uhmm Wow I'm not really sure how to answer this to be honest. I should have the word "noob" plastered to my back. Lol. But uh, one of the things that really helped me was my haircut. Getting a good masculine haircut helps(though I don't think that my haircut is any bit masculine.) Be careful, having short hair does not mean that it's masculine, there's certain things that you must do, or it will just look like a pixie cut. But you don't need to just go to a barber and pick out the MANLIEST HAIRCUT EVER. Because in my opinion you should still act like yourself and pick out things that you still like and are you.
I mean, just because I came out as a transboy- doesn't mean I'm going to stop liking neon rainbows, HelloKitty, pink, uh...things that the stereotypical girl likes. I mean, I'm obsessed with my hair and paint my nails. Because it's fun and I like it. Showing off things that you like and enjoy doe
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 930 Day Trans Challenge: Day 9 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
9)What is something positive about being trans*?
Well, I get to be myself and that's definitely positive! I don't really think there's anything positive about it besides being able to live your life the way you always should have. Not that there's anything negative about it, per se, it's just hard. Y'know?
Another positive about being trans, (in my opinion) is that it sort of opened me up to this whole new world. I like that I learned so much about all the different ways people can be, and I don't know this for sure, but I might not have realized that to the extent that I do now if I wasn't trans. Also, I have met some really wonderful people. And, this is kind of sucky to say, but it sort of helps you realize who your real friends are.
For instance, when I came out, I lost a friend. We talked a couple weeks later, and she told me that she'd pushed me away because she thought I was going to hell and whatnot, but then she did some research and she came around and she told m
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 730 Day Trans Challenge: Day 7 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
7) Who do you look up to?
There are many people I look up to for different reasons. I look up to my friends who accept me for who I am and have supported me through some really difficult times.
But as far as who do I look up too in the trans Community? Well, I'm so very new to it, that I'm not entirely sure. I mean, the first person who I actually got to talk to online who is a Transguy was Marcus, I found him on his Youtube called Dearkitona. He seemed really cool and he has this timeline that I could relate to so much it made me cry.
Because I'm a baby, shut your mouth.
My sister. She is so incredibly strong and knows what she wants and goes after it. She's always been a smartypants for as long as I can remember- She didn't really go to highschool you see, she went for one year and was too smart for the classes so she went straight to college. I mean, She's only 17 and she has moved out and lives in an apartment, has an awesome job..So someday I want
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 1230 Day Trans Challenge: Day 12 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
12)What are you doing to stay healthy for transitioning mentally and physically?
I'm not as healthy physical wise as I need to be for the transition. I want to start lifting weights, jog, do active nice stuff... To be honest, I really enjoy working out and being active, But it's just been rather frustrating for me as of late since it's been a really windy and rainy spring and I don't want to go outside even if it killed me. Hah. But after one little trip to the gym with a friend I can see a little arm muscle growth which is sooo amazing~ So if I work on keeping that sort of thing up it'll be easier to go out and do things like that.
My mum should be scheduling me in to meet my therapist so I'm also looking forward to that. However I'm actually pretty nervous because I've never actually met one- and I don't know what type of questions she'll be asking. She's supposedly worked with a ftm before so I guess that should make me alittle bit more comfortable. Not really, but I
30 Day Trans Challenge: Day 3-430 Day Trans Challenge: Day 3-4 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
3)"Have you ever been outed?"
No not yet, And hopefully not ever. I mean sometimes it's hard to pass for me since I have yet to go shopping for guy clothes let alone a binder. //le sigh
So most of the time I just come off as a tom boy for most. Hopefully that'll get better..
4)"How did your family take it when you came out/ if you're not out, why aren't you?"
Well; after talking it over with a handful of supportive friends over facebook that I know in person and a few online- I told my mum. I started out with asking how she felt when my big brother (I mentioned before) came out to her- stating that he was gay when he was 16. After we talked abit about that she asked me if I liked girls, catching onto what my intentions of the entire conversation was. I then told her that it was abit more than then, alot more than just that.
I told her that I was uncomfortable with my body and that I've been feeling this way for a long while. That I was a f2m Trans. She was a bit confused
DifficultIt has never been easyDifficult in Free Verse More Like This
talk a language I'll
I drown in black words,
they steal my weak pride,
take my poor beauty.
It has never been easy
To see your gazes,
to feel your disgust
burning through my flesh,
consuming my heart,
nagging at my very soul.
It has never been easy
To hear them curse you,
to sense your despair.
To know the darkness
that flows through your veins.
Feel the pure hatred
forcing you down on your knees.
No, it's never been easy,
but maybe, true hearts are forged
by what's difficult.
The Woman in WhitePitiful, my broken angelThe Woman in White in Free Verse More Like This
Pitiful, I'm sad to say
Pity is what you’re given
Pity is not enough to make you stay
Cross, death’s herald, if I could but paint you in morning mist
Schist-like mind, wandering in circles, never more adrift
Swift as a swift, stepping lightly, your dress pale as arum,
Alarum! Greedily you loved, loved at any cost
Lost your love yet loved your loss
Splendid IsolationWilliam the Silent never spoke in public.Splendid Isolation in Free Verse More Like This
But then he was a prince and needn’t bother
To talk to commoners like my brother
Who fought to found a republic.
But William the Silent told me a story
And not one about honour and glory.
‘I’ve clung to splendid isolation’, he told,
‘Without anyone’s company, o cold, so cold.
And my greatest fear is that when I grow old
I’ll be alone, all alone, among all this gold.’
I know his fear, how at his own heart he aimed
When ‘I am my own master’ he proudly proclaimed.
For I also have shunned the sun,
From every stranger I have run,
Lest they harm me as I’ve been harmed,
With fear and sorrow I’ve been armed.
And know this, sisters dear,
When anything in this world you fear,
Meet it at once, or be defeated forever,
And let a memory frighten you, never.
When you awake, trembling, crying, from your fright,
Don’t fear yourself, and you’ll make the night bright.
Romeo and RosalineRosaline is my nameRomeo and Rosaline in Free Verse More Like This
My lover, dead, by his own hand,
Died, in the name of love,
Because of his lover, dead.
Before you met Juliet, I was fairest of all.
Fall I did, from your heart, eyes and mind,
Blind as you were, blinded by her, I
Cry not for you, but for her. You swore
Your child-bride your eternal love, though
Owe, the day before, you’d been willing
Killing yourself for my vast beauty.
Duty or not, you left soon enough,
Rough, you turned, when it was clear, I wouldn't be your whore.
I was naught but a daydream to you who worshipped me,
See me you couldn’t, you saw what you wanted to see.
Be what you wanted me to be I couldn’t. You fled,
Wed a girl in gentler bed, a bed in which to die.
Romeo, in your shadow, Narcissus is a saint
Plaint: he harmed himself, but you bring death.
Breath of love, my innocent dove, weep,
Sleep, don’t dream of wicked Romeo.
It was not true love, Romeo, to take sudden flight,
As soon as another woman crossed your cursed sight.
We Carry OnThe tears don't stop, but we keep on livingWe Carry On in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The scars are back, but keep on healing
Nothing will be the same
Are you crazy?
From this we are strong, if not stronger
This was special, never been around before
True, but that makes it all the more precious to hold on to
Don't let this ruin your heart
I don't know what to do know
Neither do I. Until I thought back on it
And a few things came to mind
I am not afraid to keep on living
The future is bulletproof
So long and goodnight
We carry on
EnglnadxReader: Best Movie Night EverYou lay on the couch in your living room, foot propped up by three pillows, as you heard a knock at your front door. You haven’t been able to brush your hair or anything all day due to a lack of mobility, so you didn’t really want anyone to see you.EnglnadxReader: Best Movie Night Ever in Romance More Like This
However you knew exactly who was at the door and also that there was no stopping them from coming in anyway.
“It’s open!” you screamed from your current position.
All of a sudden, a teary-eyed Italian rushed up to you and hugged you tightly.
“Mama mia _____! I had no idea you were hurt this bad! I’m sorry.” Rambled the young man.
“ITALY! Get avay from _____ before you cause more damage!” shouted the tall German following Italy into your room.
“It’s okay Germany. He means no harm.” You say to your blonde friend as Italy continued to smother you in a hug.
“Werr, he didn’t mean any harm the first time, and now your reg is bro
China X Reader -FinalsYour POVChina X Reader -Finals in Romance More Like This
It was the last period of long anticipated Fraiday as you sat in your Advanced World History class. You were doodling when you should have been paying attention.
“Miss _____” your teacher barked, snapping you out of your doodle-filled wonderland.
“Since you are not making any attempt to listen to my lesson, you must already know the year in which Hong Kong gain sovereignty from Britain and was returned to China. So would you please be ever so kind as to enlighten the rest of the class.”
The teacher, along with the rest of your class stared at you waiting for an answer.
“Uh…1997?” you stammered.
“Well, you must be paying more attention than you and I both think.” Your teacher then continued lecturing.
Honestly, the only reason you knew that was because of your Chinese friend Yao. He really missed his homeland so you listened to him whenever he ranted about the culture and history of China. Actu
What the Sick World Wants You to Believe?As we all know from countless storiesWhat the Sick World Wants You to Believe? in Free Verse More Like This
appearanc is decieving.
The subject has been discussed
time and time again.
But my opiniom is still worth it.
The nicest person isn't always the
epitome of grace and beauty.
Your shock at this point
Because know you wish
you hadn't spat at that person
when they were knocked down.
Evil isn't going to be
ugly and wretched every time.
Now your hatered for the villan
because of your own gullibility
and desire to fit.
It's for all of these reasons
that we must
see past the face
no matter what shape or color.
That we must
hear past the words
whether from a silver togue or a slow one.
Why we need to judge the actions
of that single human being.
Never by there upbringing
or there heritage
or anything else
this sick world
may want you to think.
Mother Earth, by ReneeMother earthMother Earth, by Renee in Free Verse More Like This
Trees growing with girth
Flowers flowers flowers
Happy happy joy joy
I have the flu
I see my vomit
I fell down on it
I have so many pains
I wish I had no brains
Stupid stupid stupid
Centaur in my dreams
Strange, it seems
He understands me
Yet he can’t see me
Cry cry cry
I have a feeling
That I can’t hold back
I feel like a hack
Feathers feathers feathers
Soft on my face
I cannot keep pace
I’m in a hole
Like a mole
I can’t find my way out
I don’t know what I am about
Secret secret secret