the devil's in the detailsthere’s a beautiful boy sitting on the curbthe devil's in the details in Free Verse More Like This
of a street somewhere in that time right before
the sun sets and his head is in his hands
and he’s never looked more beautiful or more alone
and you want to tell him it’ll be fine,
that it’ll be okay, that soon he’ll outrun whatever’s
doggin’ his heels, that it may seem crowded now
but there’ll always be more earth
than people, or else we’d be driving
through ghosts and the whole
point of driving is to run away from them.
but he doesn’t have the right kind of eyes
to believe that. they’re red and bloodshot
like he’s been crying too long
to ever listen to you.
you don’t sit down next to him. he does
not expect you to. he may or may not
know you’re even there. if he did,
he’d make you leave because you don’t
belong with him, this angel of a boy,
you don’t want to put him together
you want to watch him finish falling apart
because broken things
Stop Romanticizing Poets 2K14This is how I write my poems:Stop Romanticizing Poets 2K14 in Free Verse More Like This
You’re blonde and you have blue eyes.
You’re the perfect subject for my next great hit,
a long rambling epic or a two page sonnet
which would start by comparing your hair
to rays of the sun and your eyes to the ocean
at daybreak. Even if you’re more of a dishwater blonde
than sun-colored, and your eyes are less ocean and
more sky, I swear I write this poem and think
vaguely of you.
But here is a secret: I’m not writing a poem about you.
I’m writing a poem about the idea of you.
And I don’t know if it will be a love poem or
a break-up poem or a “please don’t go home and
commit suicide” poem or one of those
heartbreakingly honest poems that feels like
you put your pencil on paper and bled.
I don’t write poems like that often.
No poet does, not really,
we write poems about you and your blue eyes
because we don’t like how bleeding feels,
and it is much safer for us to pretend to fall in l
poem for the girl who told me life was meaninglessevery winter, it freezes so unforgivinglypoem for the girl who told me life was meaningless in Free Verse More Like This
that i can never believe that next spring
there will be flowers bursting from the soil.
but i know you don’t care
about that. you want footprints in
stone, but all your shores are filled only with
sand and i understand why you said what you said but
i know a man who drove trucks in Vietnam
and now drives a bus full of children to school
every morning. don’t tell me that doesn’t mean
anything, not when i’ve seen the way his hands
grip the steering wheel, knuckles white tight.
not when he carries pictures of his grandkids in his
wallet, like dog tags around his neck.
we have built civilizations on these salted fields.
don’t tell me that doesn’t mean anything,
when it’s the only holy thing i have ever seen.
we have survived. we will keep surviving. we
wear our humanity like uniforms we never hang up.
our wars are never over—we will
always find a cause good enough to hope for.
and i look at the vetera
welcome to the real world1. if someone invites you back to their placewelcome to the real world in Free Verse More Like This
for coffee, and you only drink tea,
you probably won’t actually be drinking coffee.
2. when the creepy guy from work asks you out
again and you think about accepting for the first
time because you’re sick of going home alone and
you have never learned how to say no, don’t. learn.
stand in front of the mirror until you love yourself
enough for your skin to fit snug on your body. read
about the hundreds of millions of planets out in the
hundreds of millions of galaxies and feel so crowded
that you’re about to burst all over again.
3. you’re gonna screw up.
Jesus Christ, you’re gonna screw up so bad
and i’m not talking about forgetting an appointment bad,
or spilling coffee on your boss bad
or getting into a small fender bender on the side of the interstate bad.
i’m talking about the kind of bad that ties you down
into your bed on Monday morning when you
need to go to work. th
Hallelujahthere is an angel sitting next to me.Hallelujah in Free Verse More Like This
her hands are tucked like wings against each other,
each blue life-vein peeking out through
too-white, too-thin skin.
a dog-earred copy of The Great Gatsby
waits in the pocket of the seat in front of her.
any other day, that might be a metaphor,
but today it is just a lonely book
whose owner is even lonelier.
there is an angel in the plane seat next to me.
while i am closing my eyes to say goodbye to the ground,
she is opening hers wider to say hello to the sky.
her spine is bending against the metal side,
like maybe if she pushed enough she could be free.
as the plane starts moving faster and faster,
the ground tells me, “see you later.”
and as the wheels draw back into the plane’s belly,
the sky tells her, “welcome back old friend.”
there is an angel sitting next to me on a plane,
and it sounds like the start of a bad joke.
she is beautiful with spindly fingers, fly-away hair,
green eyes and a feather soft smi
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:to the girl i lose my words around in Free Verse More Like This
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
getting too attachedto the one night stand, probably sittinggetting too attached in Free Verse More Like This
in a taxi on the way back to his overpriced apartment,
this is just to let you know
that i wish i could love like you do.
that is to say, in under thirty minutes and not at all.
this is just to say
congratulations on being my first
one night stand
and also, i just wanted to tell you
that i’m glad you never gave me your name
because if you had, i would have tracked
you down through the whole city,
holding my heart in my hands
until i found you so i could give you
the damn thing.
it’s going to be a long time before
i can get those eyes out of my head, boy.
i wish you had fallen in love with me,
like in those movies or in those books,
and then you would have stayed.
i wish i could have met you
at my workplace and you would
take me out to dinner or to an arcade
or to a midnight showing of a B rated horror film.
i wish you were nervous the first time you kissed me
and that you tasted like a breath mint
instead of cheap
on salting the field and winning the warthe phone rings again; pick it up.on salting the field and winning the war in Free Verse More Like This
today, the boss asked her when you're
coming back to work. she says she doesn't know
when the last time you got out of your house was.
you're not sure either. not all pain is fleeting.
not all pain is bright and hot. sometimes, it's
through the phone, she talks like the sun filtering through
newborn leaves. she is miles and miles away from
the hurricane that is battering your shoreline.
she wants to know when you'll be able to look her in
the eye again. 'the boss is thinking of giving away your job,'
she says. 'when will you be over this?'
you don't know what you should tell her.
'did you know,' you start, 'that years after
the Mexico City earthquake in 1985, citizens
walked around thinking they still felt aftershocks
in the soles of their feet?' break off
halfway through another word. stop. start again,
voice shaking. 'did you know that more soldiers in the iraq war
have died by their own hand than by that of an enemy's?'
voice shaking, h
weighted down1. I am sixteen, suddenly.weighted down in Free Verse More Like This
I have grown up without anyone
telling me. My car keys rest heavily in
my palm. Each new college I hear about
rests heavily on my shoulders. I am
not sure how much longer I can take this,
all this extra weight of responsibilities, of choices,
of the future I’m not sure I want to have.
My skin feels stretched across my body
in places that don’t really make sense.
I still feel too big in every bad way—I’m
afraid I always will.
2. My first boyfriend tells me he
thinks I must have bits of the
universe inside of me. I try not
to get offended: I know he means to say
that kissing me is like kissing stars,
and that I hold the secrets of creation
inside my soul, but all I can think about
is how huge the universe is.
3. He breaks up with me at night.
For hours, I lean against my truck in
the driveway and look at the sky.
Stars are cold and distant,
I realize. The universe is big
4. Someone in my philosophy class tries to tell me
she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friendsthe first time I see her in months,she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friends in Free Verse More Like This
she still hugs me like i’m the only thing
keeping her world up.
i remember a time when this was true.
we do not talk about anything we used to—
those things have become taboo,
almost while our heads were turned away.
subjects are now landmines, with us tiptoeing around them,
me in my beat up converse and her in her sky-high stilettos.
we do not talk about how she did not say goodbye.
we do not talk about her old-new-old-old-gone boyfriend.
we don’t mention any new holes in my heart
or any new episodes of a now cancelled television show.
we do not talk about the new kid who looks like her
and we don’t talk about the school of new kids she looks at every morning.
i do not tell her that i have written seventeen poems about her
because she does not understand my way of letting go.
i do not tell her that it is close to October
and i have stopped marking off days on my calendar
and today i haven’t eaten any food
but i doubt sh
Dear Daddy, I hate you.Dad,Dear Daddy, I hate you. in Free Verse More Like This
There's something I want you to know,
Because, hey dad..
I'm not stupid.
I know you're not going to be here
Something I wanted to say..
I hate you.
I hate how you've been there for me.
I hate how you made me who I am today.
I hate how you've always inspired me,
And I hate how you've been the best father anyone could ask for.
I hate how I know you enough to know exactly what you're going to say.
I hate how you know me the same way.
I hate how you love your family more than anything.
I hate how you've been strong just so we don't feel weak,
And I hate how you never gave up on us.
On your family.
On your daughters.
I hate knowing that it's going to be
I'm going to miss you, Dad.
... Daddy, I'm going to miss you.
And I hate you for that.
CanvasLet her paint a masterpiece,Canvas in Free Verse More Like This
Let her paint a lie
Let her paint a word inside the shining silver skies.
Let her paint a mystery,
Let her paint a sin
Let her paint the things that lie in darkness deep within.
Let her paint a masterpiece
(but this time there's a twist)
Make the brush a blade and let the canvas be her wrist...
I Am SchizophreniaShh.I Am Schizophrenia in Free Verse More Like This
"Are you okay?"
Turn off the light.
"What are you doing?"
You can't fight the shadows.
They'll kill you if you tell.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your eyes.
Cover them again.
Lock the door.
Now you're trapped.
Lock it again.
Don't take the medication.
Don't drink the water.
Don't eat your dinner.
"I don't know you anymore. Who have you become?"
I am a nobody.
I am Schizophrenia.
I am death
"... I don't know."
No Longer a Little GirlDear imagination, can't you be the thing you wereNo Longer a Little Girl in Free Verse More Like This
Butterflies and daffodils and happiness so pure
Sunny skies and lullabies and dreams of what could be
Hidden worlds and wonderlands of things they couldn't see
Shining gowns and silver crowns for dancing with the prince
Twirling with excitement, though the others weren't convinced
Dear intimidation, did you find it to be true
All I ever needed was an overdose of you
Silly stares and laughter slowly flood a child's mind
Making me abandon every daydream I could find
Lost beneath the shadows of the sky so dark and dead
Far too weak to turn around, yet scared of things ahead
Dear destructive tendencies, I feel it's time to hear
You were all I had when nothing else seemed to be near
Everything so out of reach, too far for me to see
I decided I would choose the needle next to me
Slicing through my very skin to feel something once more
Weeping through the satisfaction I could not ignore
Dear imagination, can't you be the thing you were?
To some people.To some people, it’s called breathing.To some people. in Free Verse More Like This
To me, it’s called inhaling poison,
Which drenches my lungs and sinks into my bones
And melts into my mind.
To some people, it’s called anxiety.
To me, it’s called an unbearable shakiness in my soul
The nervousness preventing my from ever escaping
This disease in my heart.
To some people, it’s called living.
To me, it’s called never being able to run away.
Never being able to truly go, truly leave.
To me, it’s called being caught in a nightmare,
While struggling to dream.
Chasing a mystery with no solution.
Escaping your own sanity to reach more sanity,
Freeing yourself from your happiness to find more happiness.
To some people, it’s called life.
There’s no such thing.
SchizophreniaSmile.Schizophrenia in Free Verse More Like This
"What are you doing?"
Trying to escape.
Look behind you.
Are they there?
You'll never understand it.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your ears.
They want you to die.
They're out for you.
Shut the door.
Lock it again.
"Are you okay?"
You'll never make it.
Fall to the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"What are you going through?"
"What's wrong with you?"
... "I don't know."
You don't just die.Do you understand?You don't just die. in Free Verse More Like This
The blade against your wrist
Doesn't just slice your skin.
It cuts through others
Do you understand?
You don't just kill yourself.
You kill everyone.
From YOUR goodbyes.
Do you understand?
You don't just die.
You take everyone down
Sunburn: Part 5 (THE END) Still yelling, both Stan and Annie were swallowed by the water. Upon submergence, Stan noticed three very important things about the room they were now in, 1: spikes now lined the wall, ceiling, and floor, 2: The current(s) was VERY strong, and 3: The door was now closed. Still, he only had about one second to notice all of this before the various currents started fighting each other over where their helpless bodies would be tossed. Pulling the painting close to his chest and tightening his grip on Annie’s leg, Stan braced for impact on the spike covered wall that he was hurtling towards. There was a thud, both Stan and Annie screamed, and the two were once again thrown off in a different direction. The shields had held true!Sunburn: Part 5 (THE END) in Short Stories More Like This
Back and forth, forth and back, back and forth once more, the pair was flung around the room screaming in terror. The shields were holding out well against the spikes, excluding the fact that water damage and, well, the fact that they had been
Sunburn: Part 4 After greeting the carpet with his face, Stan got to his feet just in time to see the Annie shut him in the room. This time, however, the room did not become shrouded in darkness, but rather remained fairly well lit. In fact, it looked how a mostly empty room should, with bare walls, a simple carpet, and another doll. This doll, however, was made to look exactly like Annie, it even had black felt sewn onto her back, presumably to represent Shade.Sunburn: Part 4 in Short Stories More Like This
Stan reached down and picked up the doll. To his surprise, nothing bad happened when he did so, much the opposite in fact. There was a click and the door behind him opened. Standing in the doorway (On top of one the pieces from the still-smoldering doors) was Annie, gun raised.
“G-give me the doll!” Annie demanded.
“What? This old thing?” Stan mocked, tossing the doll from one hand to the other, “Well, I found it, and the rule is: Finders keepers. Oh, and tak
Sunburn: Part 2 …IN FACT, IT IS GOING TO BE A BIT COMPLEX. THE RULES, HOWEVER, ARE SIMPLE. FIRST TO GET ANNIE OR STANFORD TO THE BED WINS; BUT MAKE SURE YOU DO NOT TOUCH ME DURING THE GAME. THE COMPLEXITY IS THAT EACH ROOM WILL HAVE A CERTAIN CHALLENGE IN IT FOR YOU TO OVERCOME, EXCLUDING THE LOBBY. THE CHALLENGE WILL BECOME MORE DIFFICULT IF YOU GO THROUGH THE ROOM A SECOND TIME. YOUR CLAY SOLDIERS WILL NOT ACCOMPANY YOU, BUT WILL RATHER STAY IN THE LOBBY. THE GAME WILL BEGIN IN 5 MINUTES; YOU ARE FREE TO EXPLORE THE ROOM TO YOUR LEFT. THE ROOM IN FRONT OF YOU WILL REMAIN LOCKED UNTIL THE GAME BEGINS. GOOD LUCK.Sunburn: Part 2 in Short Stories More Like This
“So…what do you suppose it meant by ‘the first to get Annie or Stanford to the bed’?” Stan asked softly, attempting to fill the void left by Lava’s powerful voice.
“I am not sure …” replied Annie as she holstered her gun and walked over to th
Sunburn: Part 3 Once they had made it to the door, Stan opened it, revealing a room filled with candles. Now, when a room filled with candles is imagined, the imaginer tends to place these waxy-light givers around the sides of the room or in some ritualistic shape on the floor. This was not the case. Candles burned everywhere, on every exposed surface, dripping their wax as they shone. The room was totally filled with lit candles, excluding, for some strange reason, the fireplace. The furniture was coated with such a thick layer of wax that it was not recognizable, and the wallpaper was stained black with soot. The stairs were directly across the room, leading to the second floor.Sunburn: Part 3 in Short Stories More Like This
“I have heard of romantic candle-light, but this is RED-iculous, ammirite, Tex?” Stan grinned. Annie said nothing. Stan hovered the platforms over what could have been a table, kicking over some of the candles with his boots to clear a spot for the two of them. With another flick of hi
How To Show A Girl She Can Love HerselfWhen you see her cryHow To Show A Girl She Can Love Herself in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you get a rag,
a gentle delicate clothe
lovingly grasp her hand
and dab its tip
to dry each tear as they come
and ask each drop
why it'd leave
such beautiful eyes.
If she wishes
to be in the sky
Tell her to go
Take the sun ransom
And replace it in the sky
So you can see her every morning
and plead for her
To return each night.
When you see her scars
gently like you might
caress the broken wing
Of a dove
and remind her
that for every hurt
that she's survived
has only made her
that much more unique
that much stronger.
Show her that she is worthy of love
That she deserves the love
she fears to give...
show her so that
one day after you're
Fairy Tail X Reader - NatsuFairy Tail X Reader - Natsu in Short Stories More Like This
I went up to see them. I went behind Natsu and hugged him. “Hey, Pinky,” I said.
“(N-Name)!” He said.
“Oh, Hey, (Name). Long time, no see,” Gray said. “So you’re back?”
I smiled. “Yep.” I sat next to Natsu. “So I bet you’ve been a pain.”
“What?! No way!” he yelled.
I giggled and smiled. “Nice to know you haven’t changed,” I said.
“Who is this?” a blonde asked.
“Oh, this is (Name). She’s one of Natsu and I’s friends. She’s been on Mt. Hakobe as of late so we haven’t really seen her,” Gray said.
“(Name) has beautiful magic. Especially when it’s coated in red blood,” Happy said.
“Now that’s depressing,” I said. “It’s nothing special.”
“Why what type do you have?” a blonde asked.
“Water and Ice dragon slayer magic,” I said. “And I hear that you
Fairy Tail X Reader startFairy Tail X Reader start in Short Stories More Like This
Warning Spoilers! Spoilers! Turn back now if you don’t want it to be ruined! It’s Episode 20 to 50. Just so you know. Starting with Phantom Lord to the end of Lexus’s games.
Seriously turn away! Or you can go ahead and read.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Today I got back to the guild and they had it redone. I went in and got collective welcomes. I went to see Mirajane and Cana.
They told me a lot that had happened. Apparently soon after I had left to go training, Phantom Lore attacked us. Levy, Droy and Jet got attacked first and pinned to a tree. That’s when we attacked them. Turns out they really wanted Lucy.
Lucy was a new member. I never really talked to her. I really should since she’s always around Natsu, Erza, Gray and Happy. She was a celestial wizard and rally strong. She made the guild come together a lot like Mirajane.
But then after that, Laxus
Fairy Tail X Reader - GrayFairy Tail X Reader - Gray in Short Stories More Like This
I went up to see them. I went beside Gray. “Hey, guys,” I said.
“(Name)?” Gray asked. “Hey, long time, no see huh? How you’ve been?” He asked looking at me. Damn those blue eyes.
“Pretty good. I think I’m done with training now.” I said moving some water around.
“Make something out of ice,” Happy demanded. I used the water and turned it into an ice fish. Then made it go to Happy. “Thank you.”
I smiled. “No problem.”
Natsu got up and make fire come out of his fists. “I’m fired up! We’re fighting, (Name). You can control it now!”
“Don’t be stupid! You’re still recovering and (Name) just got back here,” Gray said.
“But,” Natsu said. The flames went away. “Aww, but I will after awhile. It’s post-pones but we will fight.” He said sitting down again.
“Here, sit down,” Gray said. He said moving over. I sat dow
Chronoscape, Chapter OneChronoscape, Chapter One in Science Fiction More Like This
Can a line of events be traced to its origins, only to connect with its end?
Sept 17, 14:15
Apex clouds converged around the azure mountain of ice. The polar ocean rumbled, somewhere beneath, grappling into the iceberg, gnawing away at its foundations.
Grim, fluttering celestial arc released a blinding sphere of light has from the cloudy grasp. Scorching beams of sunlight smashed into the iceberg with relentless fury and the iceberg screeched in fear of their attack as glittering veins of cobalt and silver pulsated upon its surface. The temperature was rising, as the iceberg drifted south, pushed forward by the slashing wind. The iceberg fought against the warm currents till its last breath, but all was hopeless. An unyielding crack started to crawl across its surface, explosions of cold mist whooshing as the iceberg crumbled, expiring away; connecting with the clouds and the ocean.
Oct 4th, 9:12
A tiny, conical drop of water spiraled through the gray and blue mush of fog tha
DownfallDownfall in Free Verse More Like This
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Bones mend, but tell no lies.You have cataloged your scarsBones mend, but tell no lies. in Free Verse More Like This
like your body is a library-
to be read through &
You think of
all the little boys
whose greedy fingers
You are angry-
cared for you
They left you
on a shelf
to gather dust.
should you ever
You should never attack a poet,we are the best at exploiting weakness.You should never attack a poet, in Free Verse More Like This
the night you took a scalpel to my chest
& fed my heart to the stars,
you told me i could hate you
if i needed to.
with an exorcism
i tried to cast you out
of my body.
i was contorted limbs:
the language of tongues
trying to find myself
in the cosmos
of lit kerosene fingertips,
& the kinds of habits
that only choke me at 3am -
when my eyes aren’t yet heavy
enough for sleep;
my mind tells me to do awful things.
between fucking &
you are the calories
in the mathematical equation
i think of shy moons
and i don’t eat for three days.
you only liked me
when this poetic tongue
space shrapnel aside-
you’re too far down now
for even the stars
to graph you into their maps.
Do You Want To Kill Some Frost GiantsThor: Loki? (knocks)Do You Want To Kill Some Frost Giants in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Do you want to kill some Frost Giants?
Come on, let's go and kill!
I never see you anymore
Come out the door
Do you always have to obey
We used to be best brothers
And now we're not
I wish you would tell me why
Do you want to kill some Frost Giants?
It doesn't have to be a Frost Giant
Loki: Go away, Thor.
Do You Want To Kill Some Frost Giants Part 2Thor: (laughs, knocks)Do You Want To Kill Some Frost Giants Part 2 in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
(singing) Do you want to kill a Frost Giant?
Or slide around the floors?
I think some destruction is overdue
I've started talking to the pillars in the halls!
(Hang in there, Phil.)
It gets a little boring
All these silent guards
Just watching the time tick by...
(tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock)