Let's make the whole world listenLet's make the whole world listen in Free Verse More Like This
Let's take these feelings and make them substance. Give them a name and a life, removed from ourselves.
Let's create something that will make you sad just by looking at it, because loneliness hurts best when it's shared.
Let's call it art, and hope for something more.
But let's do it somewhere else, it's so fucking quiet here.
I'd rather have Death as a friend, than an enemy.I'd rather have Death as a friend, than an enemy. in Free Verse More Like This
And I'll give Death a persona. A face and a voice, so I can watch him as he watches me. So I can hear him whispering in the corner. I'll give him a hand to hold, so he can give me a touch to feel. And I'll keep him in the cellar, with all my other friends..
So I can look him in the eye and say,
"It never, ever, ends."
I had a bad day today. And you're always still so far away.. They're coming for me, I know, but I can't see them. We never are as good as we pretend. But I'll shelter you with my storm, we are disasters of our own design..
Death, my old friend.. Come to keep me warm again. Time wrapped me in your second skin.
You've come home to me again.
dirt.dirt. in Free Verse More Like This
it feels weird to tell the world that you don't exist,
that somehow you just stopped somewhere and you
weren't here anymore. it feels like a lie.
a beaten down tired lie that gave up a long time ago.
when i say it i know my eyes grip nothing,
and i'm sure they wonder what i am for not showing
something. but it isn't something that hits me right now.
because it is so pathetically false
but regrettably true.
last week i was aching by your side
and every movement you made was like an introduction
to me finding my way in. my skin crawled with anticipation
and every muscle was tense with held back desire.
movements can be so easily mistaken when you know
what you want. you fell from me, your shoulder blades
brushed my chest and you removed every hope.
it was silent and awkward and you didn't even know
it had happened.
now today, i am aching and its this hollow far away ache
because it's not your shoulder blades this time, it's your
complete forever absence. the quiet assurance that you slee
For you, to you, beyond you.For you, to you, beyond you. in Free Verse More Like This
I felt heavy and wet on your fingertips, like a sticky mess all twisted up in a breathless place. I was a sinuous form, weighed down with unkempt desire, reaching out cautiously but repeatedly. You lied down with me kissing my forehead and closing my eyelids with your fingers. I relented under the soft murmur of our shared intoxication, content with the bliss of your starlit skin under the flush of my burning cheek.
Was I ever awake in the hushed slur of our entwined memories?
There were Summer days where the damp air slicked our skin and we followed each other around like puppies, dimples splitting our cheeks from permanent grins. We watched each other in a crowded place. I breathed soft confidence into the shadows of your collarbones without reserve because you needed it. Because you were worth it. The world was a weight you rammed against with cement shoulders, cracked but sturdy and bold. I tried to be your solvent and failed. I was wrong to fight for you.
I was a cramped skeleton:
Squat toilet vore (The Second Victim)Squat toilet vore (The Second Victim) in Short Stories More Like This
30 minutes after Eleena was eaten by the squat toilet creature, Esther was also shopping in the same mall as Eleena. She was wearing a very short red checkered T-shirt that was exposing her belly, a white mini skirt, a pair of white socks and sneakers. Esther had to go to the girl's toilet to pee. When she arrived at toilet, the toilet was still empty. She decided to pick a random toilet stool. When she was about to go in one of those toilet stoold, she saw a pair of high heels and a handbag.(Eleena's stuffs from the first story)She though she will take those stuffs once she finishes her business so she choose that stool to pee. It was a bad idea. As she locked the toilet stool door, she was about to lift up her skirt and squat when she saw that creature that ate Eleena. Esther was about to make a run when she suddenly slipped and she fell straight towards the squat toilet. Her head was pretty near the squat toilet when she fell so it made the creature easier for him. So the creature j
Sarah (me) was eaten by another bean bagSarah (me) was eaten by another bean bag in Short Stories More Like This
Sarah (me) came back home from shopping as she bought some new clothes. She quickly went up to her room, shut and locked her room door. She quickly tried on her new clothes. She bought a new black tanktop, a strip red and black mini skirt and high black high heels. When she put them on, she loved it. She loved it so much that she decided to take some photos of herself wearing those clothes. Sarah grabbed her phone went to her mirror to begin taking pictures.
Unaware she doesn't know that a hungry bean bag that's hiding in her room is about to devour her whole. Sarah keeps taking pictures of herself with her new clothes on. The bean bag was hiding behind the her door closet. The bean bag decided to strike. The bean bag queitly opened the closet door and snuck up behind Sarah. Sarah already stopped taking photos.She was sitting on the floor looking at her pictures on her she took. Unaware, Sarah still doesn't know there's a bean bag behind her as she's still disracted over her phone. The
How My Business WorksHow My Business Works in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My business works because it's actually not a business. And by this I mean I hardly make any money with my pictures. For me photography is not a way to make money but to invest money, and I work several other jobs to be able to pay for my art. I'm a tour guide on waste to energy plants and wastewater treatment facilities, I'm a concierge at the house I'm living, I work as a Photoshop instructor and on weekends I take care of the library of the University.
Sometimes people say to me: I can hardly believe you're not making money with your photos because they are better than the work of many professional photographers.
Of course it's flattering when somebody says something like that even if I don't always agree. But here's the thing: the very reason why I'm able to work on this level is because I don't have to make money with my pictures. If you're a photographer who wants to make a living out of it you are forced to do things differently. You have to focus on what your customers like and
Sex, love and ecstasy.Sex, love and ecstasy.Sex, love and ecstasy. in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A single strand falls upon her face
He brushes it gently behind her ear
Eye to eye. In silent passion.
The kiss. The touch. The feeling.
She smiles and he does.
Running his gentle hand along her.
Her curves. His love. So perfect.
Shimmering in the candle light.
The lovers embrace with intimacy.
Sweet ecstasy in her eyes.
He is captivated by her.
An obsession in itself.
Both entwined in each other.
Two souls connected as one.
This is sex. This is love.
Desire in their hearts.
HopeHope in Free Verse More Like This
Drifting through dreams of woven carpets and hushed voices
In the darkness of the morning she began to write
While the sun woke from beyond in pale yellows and greens
She stilled her heart with words and phrases
In them she emptied her heart
She was calmed by the coming light
Which broke through the blackness
Finally, she arose from her bed in an unfamiliar house
Obeying a law, a peace, no one understood
Across sidewalks dampened by a new rain she walked
The stillness of life, devoid of humans, like a fresh breath
Into a building that was not home she stayed
While idiots answered questions with meaningless words
She sat at her desk and listened, waiting
To silence them with her words of knowledge
She spoke of what she knew, the longing for hope
Which always kept itself just in front of her, teasing her
Afraid that if she looked much longer, it would flee
She was so strong, though did she know it?
Behind her ocean eyes was a steel not yet broken
It would not be broken
In her d
Just Another Day ContinuesJust Another Day Continues in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and waffles waiting
for the morning
to come, but
now early, at one
the food is already
gone, down into
my belly and not
too long before I
squeeze a brownie
to make my way
down in the hall,
me and I look to
the master piece
painted on the wall,
but I hurry
the door without
reaching down to
tie my laces, and
check to see about
in the mirror that
I always see the
same person looking
at me, so I smile
to myself and think
of an encouragement,
then spend an hour
my cell phone went,
and finally I hear
it ringing, but it's
not mine cause I
just found it beside
a bottle of wine
and whine about
your problems later,
I'm not an emotional
hater, I just like
to play tricks on my
friends and laugh about
them when it ends,
in other words
I'd like to say,
let me sleep and
have a nice day!
on being scatteredon being scattered in Free Verse More Like This
i hate the people who say 'jesus saves'
on their shirts or on their bracelets
or on their blogs or on their faces.
i hate the people that jesus actually
saves and all i want to do is call you
up and tell you how much i want to fuck you,
and how wrong i know that is, and how much
i don't care, and how much i think about it
when i'm fucking myself, and how long it's been
since passion has owned me-
my passion is untapped, hanging loosely,
flowing bluely under my skin.
what is needed is a small scratch,
a tiny prick, a sharp slap-
it would flow and
belong to you.
i want to be provoked.
i want to be reminded of the unbridled
fury that was flowing through me always,
i want to be reminded that now
i feel nothing.
i know that i feel nothing,
but i cannot feel it.
i need your body to purge my body
so it remembers how to hate itself.
because even that's not as bad