you arei want a city ruinedyou are in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
every time you love me.
i want to show how loudly i shake,
enough to break
faults and how it will never be yours,
and bring down skylines
when you aren't here.
there are seven weeks until my blood runs blank,
but it is so full tonight
it could drown a man.
i hope it drowns you,
the way it carries the only beautiful thing about me
my heart, my love.
it's time you pull together
your telephone wires and breathe stars
back into my body-
it was so dark without you.
there was no moon,
just the kind of black
you know could be no emptier.
i am effulgent again
with the ways i've needed to feel,
i am bursting with fire
instead of hurting, i heal,
and i'm still bright enough
to be burning like god speaks.
i myself speak too loud.
it's what happens at night when i let you love me
and my body writhes with glee
over something it has never known.
i'm afraid to wake the neighbours, or the sisters i'm loving as my own.
when i'm embarrassed by myself,
i won't ask you to hold
155this is not the time or place for us to speak like this. we are sitting in your car at the walmart parking lot. it's not a mile from my house, but it's better than stopping at the dead end of my street.155 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we don't move for the five seconds following the moment you cut the ignition; from there, your eyes drop to the stuffed animal you won me -- a token of the high-noon days of our summer -- that oscillates between your hands.
the sun shifts from low to lower, dipping behind clouds and city silhouettes until the lights come on. the list of things i need to tell you becomes unreadable in the failing light, so you press a button and i can see again.
i wish there was a button like that for you, and for me. maybe it would be between the fingers of our opposite hands, so if the webbings of our thumbs met in embrace, you would remember the way you felt for me in the nights we spent on friends' couches, just revelling in the feel of each other's bodies
how can someone like you want someone like meis it with hearthow can someone like you want someone like me in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you wish to start
a tangle of you and me,
not just of skin
or place within
to just feel less lonely;
and how on earth
could i be worth
that space you wish to fill
for a body, tight
no vacancies at night
i fear it stays empty still.
schadenfreudei found loveschadenfreude in Free Verse More Like This
in your bone structure,
with your soul worn across your lips.
you remind me of the sunshine
i lost in the circles
i left behind
to find someone an ocean
i am here,
watching the birds take flight
from the edges of your mouth,
watching their wings curl
with every word
strained with an accent
owned by my ancestors
born on ships.
i want you to tell me again
about the times
you found a purity in his eyes,
the blank skin upon which
they were set like jewels
and those when
you grinned cheekily
when i told you how
you really were.
i find myself wishing,
which brings paperweights
to my ankles as i
swim the seas,
that the water in which
i am sinking
would part for the benefit
of my heart;
that your contagion
would not touch me;
first weekend and realisationsyou begin to talkfirst weekend and realisations in Free Verse More Like This
because talking means that
someone else can't
&you start to realise
(as most girls do)
that you have a boyfriend
he's not just a boyfriend;
he's your boyfriend
&he's not just better than
anyone else in the world
he's better than
anything else in the world
&you would trade years off your life
to spend a little longer with him
or to see him smile when he's sad
or to feel his face in your hair
the way he does when he hugs you
&you can't feel it
because right now he's too far away
but distance is only the space between
point a and point b
between you&between me
&if you give it just a little more time
you'll realise nothing has changed
and the disjointed rhythms
your heart beats out like a drum
sticks like a song in your head
the moment you watch recognition
hit his eyes
when you walk in.
barcelona is burningi owe you an apology-barcelona is burning in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you, in the crowd,
the one panicking about reading
or the mess at home
or the sheer volume of people
pressing into you like corners;
the woman who birthed me into this world
through hours of agony
as though that wasn't enough
because doctor appointment after therapy appointment after residential stay after thirtieth pound lost,
i've put you through countless
warped into months of agony
you never asked for;
and you, oh, mostly you.
you, because as hard as i've beaten my own heart into the wall,
and as deep as i let you bury mine,
i know, somehow, i managed to do the same to you.
you left, and i left two weeks after.
every night was a terror;
every morning was a letdown.
i ached constantly
and threw myself into books
like they would become oxygen masks until i could breathe on my own again.
and here's the thing, you know,
because you would knock my legs out from under me again and again.
"let's fall back in love," you'd say,
and i would fall to
there aren't enough metaphorsi palely existthere aren't enough metaphors in Free Verse More Like This
in a recumbent
full of cleopatra's majesty
and an empty stomach
i drum my head
off the backboard of my bed
and listen to the pretty sounds it makes
my aggression is worn
like ground coffee on my body,
taking it out with burning fingers
all over my frozen skin until i
become honey, bees flocking to my coat
i spill you, a cracked
china cup of black tea and cream,
over the sides
of the waterfall
my frame quakes
with every rumble
of my stomach
watch my silly bones
tremble in fear and winds,
silent rib cage dances
into stronger spotlights
to be discovered by the talent agency
attached to the ends of your wrists
raindrops writhe gutters
over my neck
and under my spine
i am so goddamn miserable
but i have always heard
makes for beautiful words
is something a mirror
always leaves in its wake.
the commutei keep your kissthe commute in Free Verse More Like This
under my bed:
i won't lose it
just because you aren't here.
i will hesitate in the spaces
between the weeks
we are together,
and we are
i will write you letters
and gaps and commas
when my head stops spinning
and my pride takes a bow
to the lion of my heart,
and feel the stinging air
seep out of its balloon.
put your (love) affairs in order, dear
and find me under your blankets;
i want the places i know best
to be the ones made of skin,
secretly tucked away
in the crook of your elbow
where my body rests, or
behind your ear,
like a pencil-
i want you to write me words
that make me start to hum.
i'm too sick to lovedon't let me goi'm too sick to love in Free Verse More Like This
if you don't know
what to do without me;
if you can't
sleep at night
because you wonder
whose arms i'm in,
and break bones every time
they're not yours:
it means you should
hold on to me.
it seems like
i might just jump
but i always come back to you.
i'm sorry that i'm so stuck.
love is when you answer my call,
to hear your voice
a thousand miles away.
i'm sorry we aren't
i'm sorry i'm
for you to
write what hurtsi'm here to tell youwrite what hurts in Free Verse More Like This
about fire and living
& how both burn even if you ignore them
it's not about what feels good
it's about what doesn't
cornering what hurts
and exposing it
really displaying it
pedestal on high
for what it is
and not what it pretends to be
you are not living
until you hurt
you can't be alive
if all you know is comfort
comfort is only a sign
that you are doing what you know
it is admittance of limitation
because you are human
and only know so much
and it's agonising to think
that you can be comfortable with that
and not want to reach out
and touch every thing you find
and read every book you see
and hear every sound you can
because enough is never enough
is never enough is always
The Power of Broccoli"Six foot..."The Power of Broccoli in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Theological Discussion"Is there a God?"Theological Discussion in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Green FingersUnexpectedly,Green Fingers in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I'd planted carrots...
Airhead (Oxymoron)Empty-headed.Airhead (Oxymoron) in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But so full of himself.
In the Check-in QueueMoney.In the Check-in Queue in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's a TrapCheese! What's this spring for..? Snap.It's a Trap in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Unreliable NarratorSherlock Holmes stories?Unreliable Narrator in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They were doctored.
Oh, Bad LuckIn the spring of 1313, after 13 years of marriage, it became evident an heir was finally on the way for the King and Queen of Deviancia.Oh, Bad Luck in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“In honour of our future child, I shall add an extra month to the year,” said the King. “To bring the baby luck!”
The Prince was born on the 13th day of the 13th month.
It was a Friday.
“Really?” said the Queen. “You couldn’t have worked out this was going to happen?”
“My love,” said the King, trying to soothe his wife’s angst. “Let’s not give into triskaidekaphobia!”
But he did feel uneasy, and decided to invite the local fairies to the christening to be on the safe side.
There were the usual presents of handsomeness, long life, intelligence. Then it came to the turn of the youngest fairy. She was desperate to get to the lavatory (fairies have bladders the size of a peanut) and didn’t think carefully about the wording of her gift.
“He’ll be abl
The End of the Relationship"Not football again. Let's watch Twilight."The End of the Relationship in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The RitualFor three moons, no rain had fallen. The grass had yellowed, died, and blown away beneath the sun’s fierce heat, and the earth had split, the cracks between the shattered pieces wide enough to trap a goat’s foot. The tribe did not turn to magic lightly, but this time the choice was clear: something must be done.The Ritual in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
With great ceremony, Akana stepped inside the grave-hut, the air sweltering even in the shade. Surely even the ancestors, their bones secure in sacred urns, must feel this heat? And so Akana was confident when he came to speak.
“Wise ancestors,” he spoke to the painted urns. “For three moons, the sun has beaten down upon our land. Our crops have died, and our goats and cattle soon shall follow. Take pity on us, please, and make this great drought stop.”
But three days passed, and still the sun beat down, and still the drought continued. From the ancestors, no answer came.
“This is not the way to summon rain,” said Suro. And she to
A Bold Stratagem July 5th, 1944:A Bold Stratagem in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They will give me the Dickin Medal for this.
I have intercepted a report indicating that reinforcements are to be sent to the 4th Army, east of Mogilev. I cannot allow that to happen. Though my actions in Berlin have drawn a significant amount of attention already, I am determined to hold my position. The ground I have chosen to make my stand is exposed. Every day, things get a little more uncomfortable. The enemy is just feet away. But I will persevere.
I will prevail.
“I was going to write important Nazi stuff, but there’s a cat sitting on my typewriter.”
“Can’t you just shove it off?”
The Crown of Steel Once upon a time, there was a kingdom, rich in gold and grain. None went hungry nor slept without a roof, and with great gifts the king secured the friendship of his neighbours. In truth, these treasures offered freely were mere boast, for in his youth the king had often fought, and all nearby remembered his campaigns: few would care to make an enemy of that good friend. But though the king was noble, strong and wise, his one small weakness could tear the city down.The Crown of Steel in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Though the king made good use of his enormous wealth—hiring guards to make his kingdom safe, and learned judges to make it fair—and was not miserly, he began to despair at the thin band atop his head. It was no secret that he was the greatest king in all the land, so why should he have any but the greatest crown? And so the king commissioned ten master jewellers to cast his crown anew, and set it round with many precious stones. The king took his new crown, and fou
Last Minute Shopping It had been an unremarkable Tuesday at the petrol station until Pestilence—of Four Horsemen fame—came in and started leafing through a magazine. He didn’t exactly have a “Hello, my name is...” tag pinned to his robe, but it was pretty obvious to look at him. Limp hair, pale, pock-marked face, bow legs...it was like he had every disease in the world, and was only alive because all of them were tripping over each other trying to kill him. “Three Stooges Syndrome,” I think they call it. But that probably wasn’t it.Last Minute Shopping in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He must have realised I was staring because he said: “Sorry. I know this isn’t, like, a library, but I sent a letter in to the Agony Aunt a while back and I want to see if they’ve printed a response.”
“Oh, right,” I said. “No, that’s okay.” As a rule, I didn’t take issue with people having a quick ski
The Sign"I saw them lights again last night," said Farmer Mills, "and when I got up this morning, there it was again. The message...from up there!" He pointed to the clouds.The Sign in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Brian tried to look distantly interested with the story, rather than simply annoyed, as the camera swung back to focus on him. "There you have it," he said to the people watching at home. "Whether elaborate hoax or message from beyond the stars, these mysterious circles will certainly be a talking point in this small town for years to come. And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, people much further away are talking about it too."
Farmer Mills put out his hand for Brian to shake. Not sure whether or not the camera was still rolling, Brian took it and tried to ignore the eye-watering alcohol fumes that came off the man. The scorched, bent corn stalks certainly were mysterious, but he couldn't help but wonder why aliens would travel all that way only to leave a message that nobody could read. And why here? He had the feeling that
The Marvellous Misadventures of Diabolical Dr Baby“I remember the days when the world trembled at the very mention of the name ‘Doctor Baby.’ Now...I don’t know what the world thinks. It’s all hacking and cyber-terrorism.” He curled a gloved hand dramatically in front of him. “There’s just no place for the traditional supervillain any more! No place...for Doctor Baby...”The Marvellous Misadventures of Diabolical Dr Baby in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Goon waited patiently. Though Doctor Baby was simply standing, staring into the middle distance, Goon had known the Doctor for long enough to recognise one of his uniquely lengthy dramatic pauses.
“...no place, at least,” Doctor Baby continued, inevitably, “as a supervillain. Goon!” he turned. “We are going straight.”
“Durr, really, Boss? You sure you want to do that?” This had not been what Goon had expected to hear. He scratched at his balding head with one great, gorilla-like finger.
“Yes.” Doctor Baby pressed a hand against the glass case of his infamo
Tales of the UnexpectedA tense scene unfolds today as families who were expecting a pleasant day at the zoo are, in fact, confronted by something completely different. Local man Brian has been taken hostage by “Monty” the Burmese Python. His mother had this to say:Tales of the Unexpected in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“He’s not a hostage, he’s a very naughty boy!”
We’ll be keeping you up to date with all events as they...oh! It seems Monty has released a list of demands. He wants...a shrubbery. A top negotiator has already been flown in from Spain. Sir, what are your thoughts on this turn of events?
“NOBODY EXPECTS THE SERPENT’S IMPOSITION!!!”
Always the Same PlaceJason went to meet his friends under the big tree in the park.Always the Same Place in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Ernest nudged his wife, sitting next to him on the bench. “They’re always loitering over there. You don’t know what they’re up to—always got their hoods up! Probably fighting. Probably drugs.”
They moved beneath the awning of the local shops.
“Here they come again,” said Mabel. “Always standing in that same place. Shoplifting. And there was that brick through the window last year.”
Jason said goodbye and headed home.
“Tch,” snorted Grandad, jabbing the air with a finger. “Always upstairs glued to that screen. There was a time kids went outside once in a while!”
One Thousand ThreadsThe farbeast’s claws raked across Khorsa’s back, and he strained to put on just a little more speed. It would do nothing to change his fate—once the beast had your scent, there was no hope left for you—it was for the village. If he didn’t lead the monster far enough away, far enough upwind...it would find them again.One Thousand Threads in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But today the wind was blowing down towards the river, and even that gentle slope had made Khorsa’s legs clumsy and feeble. He didn’t even make it out of the valley. A little more than three quarters of the way up the slope, there was a steep earth ridge. Here, his legs gave way beneath him and he slipped.
Rolling over to face the fiend, Khorsa bared his teeth, drawing the dagger from his belt. A feeble gesture. The farbeast had five knives upon each paw, and its hide was studded with the stubs of old arrows. The creature slowed as it approached, wide mouth cracking into a jagged snarl. Khorsa snarled back, making a pitiful jab wit
Mere Technicalities"But I am Khamul!" shouted the spandex-clad athlete, thumping a bony fist on the chipboard table. "I am the fastest rider in my great nation! Why is it that I am not allowed to compete?"Mere Technicalities in Humor More Like This
"Well, you see..." the organiser arched his fingers nervously. "We have certain...criteria that athletes must meet in order to compete in this event."
"Oh, really? And what might they be."
"Erm..." the organiser looked the man up and down. "It's...erm..."
"Do you not allow black riders in the Tour de France?"
"Oh no!" The organiser waved his hands frantically. "It's not that! It's not that at all!"
"Then what is it?" the rider barked. "Spit it out, man!"
"A fellbeast is not a bicycle!"
"Oh." Khamul looked at his colossal steed, then back at the spindly racing bike of the man in line behind him. "Oh yes. I can see what you mean."
"Also..." the organiser scanned the spreadsheet in front of him. "I can't find a 'Mordor' option anywhere on this form."
These Words Aren't PrettyThese Words Aren't Pretty:These Words Aren't Pretty in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My verses are ugly and I admit to the fact
I can't use pretty language when I'm working with rap
Because the things that I write, are just the things that I feel
I ain't an Edgar Allan Poe or a Danielle Steel
And I'll be honest with you, I've got an envy inside
Because some poets got a flow that's as smooth as the tide
I read some stuff that they write, it's just so dope I ignite
Burning shame and my anger at the beautiful sight
And like birds of a feather, they're flocking together
These poets are the Gods and I'm nailed by the weather
But as the rain pours down, lightning resound;
I try to write pretty words but my lips remain bound
So deeply silenced by fear - the darkness I hear,
Afraid to be unloved by the ones I hold dear
I've hit the limit of time; my lyrical crime
These words that I've lived are just turning to grime.
So I wish I had their talent; just a sliver of that
If their skill was a mountain then I've broken my back
It's like t
A Polished White SinkA Polished White Sink:A Polished White Sink in Free Verse More Like This
If I had to call this world a blessing;
I think I'd say 'I find it damn depressing.'
You might think I'm stupid from how I'm dressing,
But this is just the heart I feel like wearing.
I see street corners and absent youth;
Don't pretend you don't ever see the night.
Cause when it turns dark, the maggots start crawling;
Looks like God decided to shut out the light.
I can warm my hands on fire and watch the people go,
They don't know who I am, I just go with the flow.
I see streets that seem empty, clogged to the brink;
But that's the reality deep beneath the sink.
It looks clean on the outside, polished porcelain white,
But inside of the pipes are what you keep out of sight.
Yet they're already straining and distorted with strain;
Soon the flood water comes flowing, wash away with the rain.
-Unofficial release from Chen Yuan Wen, 8th April 2013
Six Words for the SufferingPain ends, but you must not.Six Words for the Suffering in Free Verse More Like This
My Beautiful FilthMy Beautiful Filth:My Beautiful Filth in Free Verse More Like This
We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...
Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force
And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivances
The filthy shame of these long years and the pain which I've kept inside
Now I engrave it into this concrete canvas...
Let all the world know of what was done to me
even as I part from it...
For in death I swear they shall have no reprieve!
In life I wanted to be beautiful and in death I shall finally be so
For the weight of
Oh No I Know A Dirty WordOh No I Know A Dirty Word:Oh No I Know A Dirty Word in Free Verse More Like This
Oh me, oh my, these are dirty words
How low-class, vulgar and simply absurd
You must be a thug, you've no sense of style
Let me sip some tea that was made erstwhile
I shall proceed to comment about who you are
and pointlessly engage you in a mental spar
I must prove my point to be whole you see
for the protection of the word is a duty to me
See I love to pretend that I'm someone pure
Never dirtied a sentence or darkened a door
It's like I'm holy and utterly clean
So don't take my tone as being mean
I'm simply trying to help you right?
Let me show you how to be a snob on sight
Never use the language meant for 'boobs'
do you realise it's a synonym for a gormless rube?
Ah ha! You didn't, that means I'm right
My intellect wins; have you seen the light?
Oh my, what are you doing, that knife looks sharp
Eek! Help! You're stabbing my heart!
And that is why I killed him your honour...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th September 2012
BelovedBeloved:Beloved in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
With a bright radiant smile
If only for me...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
RealHow can you expect to see the truth in the mirror?Real in Free Verse More Like This
When your eyes are clouded by the filter of 'inferior'
The Artist SyndromeThis work is simply brilliant!The Artist Syndrome in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Says the artist in me.
I'll have it framed twice!
So precious it be...
Says the artist in me,
But what if people hate it?
So precious it be!
I cannot let them take it!
And what if people hate it,
And what if they hate me?
I cannot let them take it
I'll lock it away you see!
And what if they hate me?
A simple lock will not suffice!
I'll lock it away you see.
In a land of frozen ice...
"And that, my dear Mrs. Sutherland, is why I shipped my art homework to Antarctica!"
DesperationI wonder how many days you've spent feeling lost.Desperation in Free Verse More Like This
Thinking that you're going somewhere.
Never actually getting anywhere.
You look at the same four walls over and over again.
You can paint them in different colours,
But you know they're still the same.
And you convince yourself that you're making progress,
Nothing's changed, but you're making progress.
Things are getting worse, but you're making progress.
And then you wake up and realise,
That shit has hit the fan...
Suddenly you're forced to do the things you couldn't,
The kind of things that you were never comfortable with.
And you find out you can do them.
You find out that the only reason you couldn't,
Was because you were afraid to try.
It's hard - trying to take that first step.
It's hard - trying to convince yourself to take that chance.
The PoetThe Poet:The Poet in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles as he sees her sleeping
& gently covers her with a blanket.
He goes to the window and looks out
watching snow fall, ever so slowly...
He sees people in the streets,
Chatting, walking. Some happy,
Others sad. Hearts beating,
Hearts broken; some warm, some cold.
He looks back at her, as she stirs in bed.
A yawn from her, brings another smile to him:
"How cute," he chuckles as he strokes her head.
He runs his fingers through her hair and is content.
Yet, even if he is happy here, again -
He is drawn to that window and finds himself
Staring out at the street and watching;
Marveling at the disparity and wondering -
Isn't there something that I can do?
Isn't there a better way for us all?
He looks back at her, sleeping peacefully;
He thinks about the future and sighs.
He wants a better world for her,
One where she would always be safe,
But unfortunately, he has no power.
He is just one man with little to his name.
He picks up a piece of paper, one found lyin
They need better signsDay 67: Still lost at airport...They need better signs in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it stings like a million bees when i describe itthere are words in the dictionary for you and meit stings like a million bees when i describe it in Free Verse More Like This
but somehow there's always a gap
between the definitions
and what we truly are.
i feel like a forgery hanging on a wall,
brush strokes imitating what i should have been -
but it's bolted stuck
and i can't
tear it down -
i scratch off layers of paint, wish i had no face at all,
no body and no voice. (what i have is not mine.)
my fingernails are torn, bloodied,
but it makes no difference
that i ripped the canvas
when the repainted picture
show the truth.
labyrinthiani guess i've started to doubt(my)humanity,labyrinthian in Free Verse More Like This
we bat our eyelashes in morse code
and expect to be heard,
but nobody really listens.
(and i must say, you are quite good at acting
like a person, but people
are only a facade, when it comes down
why should we matter more than mosquitoes?)
you'll always keep wondering
about the meaning of life
"maybe it's all in my head," you said. "a nightmare
meant just for me."
but honestly, why would we mean anything?
(you yell at the stars to come closer, cry out
for god to let you see.)
but god hides behind closed doors
just like schrodinger's cat,
neither alive or dead.
cataclysmthey open the floodgates, and we can only stare,cataclysm in Free Verse More Like This
shake the bars of our bird cage,
screech and beg to be spared.
this is not how the world ends - us trapped,
while the water
erodes away the universe. they are pouring it
and we are dangling there like bait
for the fish, no,
that is not how it happens.
it happens like this, one trapped and the other
trapped twofold, devouring emptiness
becomes too much.
wings wilted away, we are birds stranded.
callouses like tree-bark,
we count out the time we have left on our fingers
but never specify if the numbers stand
for hours, months or decades.
this is how the world ends, keys out of reach;
we are trapped, doubt eroding away
comfort watered down by bitterness.
footprints some days you are absent,footprints in Free Verse More Like This
and i sit waiting even if i know, that although
your bike is parked at the usual spot,
you'll be nowhere to be seen.
i never ask where you've been.
maybe you found a place where heartbeats sound
like autumn leaves swirling in the wind.
maybe you just couldn't face me.
and you wear silence like a wedding gown,
soft silk sewn together with a brutal honesty.
there is no going back.
(she threw her regrets off a mountain, memories
carving their way through the cold stone, slowly forming
and now she feels no thirst, only
a longing slowly drowning her.)
in the end, you had to face me.
we sat on a beach, your fingers drawing patterns in the sand,
mine clutched around a seashell.
"we're only a bike ride away from extinction,"
you said, "and you're too slow, always
caught in the invisible ink printed on my eyelids."
i borrowed your silence,
what keeps us aliveshe hollowed out the fear in you, that once rested in your rib-cagewhat keeps us alive in Free Verse More Like This
like a safe haven, somewhere to lose yourself
when falling. (she stole it with less than a whisper).
you stood cold and resilient, the void tugging at your sleeves
with fierce determination.
you stood empty and brave.
she never gave you a destination, wordlessly she carved your route
out of denied tears, an unfinished map with no coastlines.
you left and the abyss followed your trail like a bloodhound,
promised to devour you whole.
you left to find the sea.
passerbyraspy voice, like a demon begging for mercy. she waspasserby in Free Verse More Like This
always a broken melody,
with no corner pieces.
i can see her,
drenched by the truth in her own
words, "i am just
a crack in the concrete,
by the footsteps
of people like
hollowjust forget about making sense already,hollow in Free Verse More Like This
words leave your lips
scattered and broken, unfulfilled.
EMO LOVE POEMThou art like my love, and my love for you is somethingEMO LOVE POEM in Free Verse More Like This
that keeps bleeding
like dead kitties on a misty night.
Thou art more wonderful than dying.
Thou art more wonderful than death.
My love for you is pure, unlike the dead kitties
I found on my porch last night.
I think they were meant for my hipster brother,
he has enemies.
I buried them next to my love for you
oh Hamlet, for our love is dying
faster than your dad
when he had that heart attack.
I love you.
i think it is time to get this out of my systemif you knew enough you'd swallow your intentions before they got rotten,i think it is time to get this out of my system in Free Verse More Like This
thoughts should never outlive their time, and no
peace can be found in dwelling on
but perhaps you long for war, for the deconstruction of my reality.
you used to say you pitied me
with disgusted whispers, we hid behind the bushes
so they wouldn't see
the company you keep.
you said i had everything you wanted. at first it was subtle,
a glance with starstruck eyes that turned away too quickly,
the words came much later but i already knew.
(i always wondered how you
could be so
jealous of someone as shameful as me.)
but let's not get ahead of ourselves, i am untrustworthy
and ugly and so many
things i'd rather not look at under a microscope
but i always do it anyway,
to maybe find a piece of me you didn't shape.
it is my fault,
that we never stayed the way we were that year
when i never disappointed you.
it is my fault and i almost feel pr
Daddy Doesn't RememberDaddy doesn't remember me.Daddy Doesn't Remember in Free Verse More Like This
Daddy doesn't remember Mommy.
Daddy doesn't remember his life.
In the year 1975,
Back when he was fifteen.
He still thinks his mom is alive.
He still thinks he's going to get beaten
For not being home.
And he still doesn't
Daddy doesn't remember me.
Daddy doesn't remember Mommy.
Daddy doesn't remember my sisters.
Daddy doesn't remember his life.
In his past.
"Daddy," I cry
Tears filling my eyes.
And after a while
After he lies there, lifeless
For over a half hour..
He wakes up.
"What happened?" He asks.
Daddy didn't remember me.
Daddy didn't remember Mommy.
Daddy didn't remember my sisters.
But Daddy doesn't remember that.
Till Death Do Us PartThe poison resting beneath my lungsTill Death Do Us Part in Free Verse More Like This
As fire in the rain
The lies painting my tongue
The crimson blood stains
A scream drenching the skies
A shining blade of diamond rings
Sinking into your cries
A nightmare of the prettiest things
A demon with wings
Resting in my heart
So tell me again,
Again and again...
"Till death do us part."
Selfish Suicide"People who kill themselves are selfish."Selfish Suicide in Free Verse More Like This
Well, darling, let me tell you a story,
A story all too true.
A daughter who became a wife, a wife who became a mother.
A mother of three girls...
One just above the age of a toddler,
One at the age of twelve,
And one entering the life of a married adult.
Now, the youngest girl was watching television,
And the oldest at the neighbor's home.
The twelve year old daughter sat at a computer with her closest friend,
When something terrifying happened.
Her mother was in the kitchen, coughing.
The daughter, although unable to see her mother, only could imagine the situation.
The mother walked calmly past the daughter with tears rushing down her face,
And up the stairs she went,
Into her bedroom...
Locking the door behind her.
The daughter, hearing the door lock, didn't bother to check on her mother.
She decided to expect and hope for the best.
Five, maybe ten minutes passed, the daughter still sitting at the computer,
When the mother stumbled down the
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinYou're Not? in Free Verse More Like This
You're not? Then you're obese.
If you're different, you're insane
You're not? Then you're a fake.
If you're happy, you're hiding something.
You're not? You must be emo.
If you're dating, you're a slut.
You're not? You must have no friends.
If you're popular, you're a jerk.
You're not? You're a nobody.
If you're quiet, you must be disabled.
You're not? You obnoxious freak.
If you're you, you're wrong.
Then you must be perfect.
I AmI am the shadow, and I am the lightI Am in Free Verse More Like This
I am the sunlight, and I am the night
I am the battle, and I am the fighter
I am the water, and I am the fire
I am a raindrop just ready to fall
I am the world, and yet…
No one at all.
I am not a stereotypeSlide the blade across your wrist.I am not a stereotype in Free Verse More Like This
"Doesn't it hurt?"
I can't feel anything.
Punch your own stomach.
Does it hurt yet?
"Why do you do that?"
The pain makes me feel alive.
"I don't know."
"What's wrong with you?"
I'm dead inside.
I'm just depressed.
Stare at your arms.
"What are you doing?"
I just have low self esteem.
I'm just human.
I'm just me.
Well...Well, you're not anorexic. So you must be fat.Well... in Free Verse More Like This
A fat, ugly person.
Well, you fit in with the crowd. You must be a fake.
A fake wannabe.
Well, you're happy. What are you hiding?
You've got to be hiding something.
Well, you're sad. You must be emo.
An emo attention seeker.
Well, you're popular. So you must be a jerk.
Why would anyone like you in the first place?
Well, you're quiet. You must be a nobody.
Nobody at all.
Well, you're you.
What else could go wrong?
LabelsAttention seeker?Labels in Free Verse More Like This
Maybe fighting for acception.
Rather, suffering rejection...
Maybe breaking for direction...
Perhaps dying for correction...
Maybe hurting for affection..
So maybe before you label someone just because you don't feel a connection...
Maybe fix yourself before you point out imperfections.
In my head...In my head,In my head... in Free Verse More Like This
The birds that fly above me
Are the dragons of my kingdom.
In my head,
Cats and dogs are lions and wolves,
And my fish is a sea monster.
In my head,
My pen is a sword,
And I’m fighting witches and evil men
To find my prince charming.
In my head,
Butterflies spin through the air
And fly through my bedroom windows
To whisper things in a language
That only I understand.
In my head,
There is a world other than
These black and white dreams
And these faded grey skies.
In my head,
There is a universe.
Can’t you see it, too?
Your OC's Story in a 6-Word Story - ProjectThis is a project that is open to anyone who has an OC (Original Character) or FC (Fan Character). It was inspired by a personal challenge where I pushed myself to tell my OC's story using a 6-word story. I realized it would be a great exercise for authors, as well as a fun way to introduce your character to the great dA audience--and a fun and easy way for others to discover your character.Your OC's Story in a 6-Word Story - Project in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The project is very simple. Create a 6-word story for your OC. It doesn't necessarily have to focus on their origin, it could be their motivation for everything they do in their life. It could describe the one life-event that made them who they are. It could just give the essence of your character. But the reader should learn something from the story and know your OC better because of it.
Also, you may give a little more detail in the artist's notes and links to the characters, if you like. This is not a contest and you won't be
Can't Turn BackAlone in an empty roomCan't Turn Back in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Though I'm never quite alone.
The shadows cover the walls,
The monsters growl in the closet.
The king of beasts knocks at my door.
I don't let him in; he already has the key.
He whispers sweet nothings to me,
While he places the knife to my back
Save me, Save me,
Don't betray me.
The darkness is calling,
I can't turn back.
Slay me, Slay me,
Don't embrace me.
The darkness is calling,
I can't turn back.
The prince is helpless, down-trodden,
The knight has lost his sword.
The damsel has tea with the dragon,
Giving up all hope of rescue.
Truth and lies mix, interchangeable.
Beliefs twist and turn to doubt.
Confusion is the darkest potion,
Sipped from a pearl white glass
Save me, Save me,
Don't betray me.
The darkness is calling,
I can't turn back.
Slay me, Slay me,
Don't embrace me.
The darkness is calling,
I can't turn back.
I wander through the forest,
My map a blatant forgery.
Looking for him, looking for you.
The shadows guid
17 Years and Forever - Part IThe dream. It came again. It always came, over and over, yet there seemed to be no waking from it.17 Years and Forever - Part I in Short Stories More Like This
"You rotten child. How dare you? You are spoiled and you rightly need a long time out or a good spanking," Sara had screamed.
There was yelling, cursing, the boy's words were harsh and stern. "Witch. You are nothing more than a witch. I no longer wish to see you. Curse her, old man, curse her!"
A bright light. The cloud coming, swallowing her. She couldn't breathe.
"No," the girl's voice calling.
Darkness coming, the world fading away.
"You did it, you did it," the boy screaming in delight. "Accursed sleep."
"The armies are approaching the castle, Princess. We must go."
The girl's voice familiar. "We must take her with us. I shall not have her fall to their hands."
"But the dangers. She is cursed, she is doomed."
"I will not have her taken by assassins who will sacrifice her in my father's name. Bring her now, I command it!"
The words faded into silence.
A woman's voic
Lost and Found Scene 1 - Relativity Episode 1The light above the vanity flickered, throwing the room into a series of shadows. Babs Stone tapped the plastic casing with her finger, hoping to jiggle the bulb back into place. The room fell into complete darkness. After a moment, the light snapped back on, shining bright and steady. The prostitute leaned back towards the mirror.Lost and Found Scene 1 - Relativity Episode 1 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Pulling up her chin, Babs checked her throat carefully. While she didn’t have a policy against rough stuff, she didn’t like when her clients left marks. It made it difficult when picking up another john, not to mention she simply didn’t like bruising on her neck. Satisfied, she tousled her long platinum blonde hair so it framed her face, then twisted open a cylinder of Fire Engine Red and smeared it across her lips. She could hear shuffling and smiled at the thought of the man on the other side of the door.
While she had several regulars, Babs liked Denny the best. He was always clean and smelled nice. More than that, he always called
Black Torrent's StoryBecause failure was not an option.Black Torrent's Story in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Waiting for YouI stare out the window, waiting for you.Waiting for You in Free Verse More Like This
I think of your eyes, which sparkle when they see me.
I think of your ears, which listen to all my silly tales.
I think of your mouth, that smiles when I'm happy.
I think of your brow, that furrows when I'm hurt.
I think of your voice, which always tries to say the right thing.
I think of your arms, that hold me when I'm sad.
I think of your hands, that help me when I need it.
I think of your shoulders, where I can rest my head when tired.
I think of your legs, which would walk a mile for me.
I think of your toes, which brush against mine at night.
I think of your heart, which is filled with love.
As I stare out the window, I think of you...and realize I'd wait an eternity for you.
Secrets - A Dark Flame Story Some say Gale City is the worst place to live in the whole United States. I've been living here since I was two years old. Considering I'm ten now, I guess that's not a long time, but eight years is usually long enough to get to know a place. Before I was placed in Gale—and I can really remember that far back—I used to live in Chicago. My mom and stepdad and four sisters lived in a two bedroom apartment in the projects. It was clean and we had food to eat. The problem was that dad always needed money to pay for the "junk." Back then, I never understood why anyone would want to buy garbage. I now know that junk doesn't mean trash, but it is garbage, and people pay through the nose for it.Secrets - A Dark Flame Story in Short Stories More Like This
Maybe you're wondering how a kid can know so much. Well, in Gale you learn to know or you end up doing something bad—and ten years old is too young to die. I've always picked up things fast, and I don't even watch t.v. that much. Bobby Brali and me
Paper FoldingThe room was cold but she didn't care. She wanted to shiver. It reminded her of when there were strong arms to wrap around and warm her.Paper Folding in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Closing the door to her office, she looked around the darkened reception area. She was working late these days. Year-end reporting always took a ton of time and she put most of her life on hold for three weeks.
Walking down the long corridor to the front door, her hand poised on the handle. She wanted to go home and crawl into bed--but she didn't want to be there alone. It had nothing to do with sex. She simply wanted to be with someone, to have them hold her.
I don't want to cry alone tonight.
Locking the door, she made the journey down the block to her apartment. The lights were off and she stopped, wondering if someone was lurking in the shadows. It was a terrifying thought and she was unsure why she should be so panicky right now. With trembling fingers, she turned the key in the deadbolt.
The apartment was empty. Even
Rune - Relativity Episode 13 Leonard Nolan rolled over, his eyes slitting open to look at the alarm clock. As the glowing red numbers registered in his brain, his tiredness disappeared and his eyes snapped open. "Oh my gosh, I'm late."Rune - Relativity Episode 13 in Short Stories More Like This
Sliding from under the covers, the man ran to the closet and threw open the bi-fold doors. As he fastened the last button on his gray custodian uniform, he turned and admired himself in the mirror.
"How do I look, Harold?" he asked, glancing back at his roommate.
The gray and white shaggy dog blinked twice and gave a bark.
Leonard turned back to his reflection and pulled a brush through his sandy thick brown hair. Though he never had a good time taming his mane, this morning it seemed particularly unruly. "C'mon," he groaned. After more brushing and a large glob of hair gel, he looked presentable. Winking at his pet, he pulled on his coat and headed out the door.
It was four b