SchizophreniaShh.More Like This
Look behind you.
"Are you okay?"
Shapes, forms, bodies, animals, plants
Shifting, moving, being
"What's wrong with you?"
You're a freak.
No one wants you.
You should kill yourself, let them out of their misery
Or we'll do the job for you.
"They're fake, you know."
No they're not.
"What are you doing?"
This is how I live.
Save me, from the monsters, the shadows
"What can I do?"
You can stop.
You can stop being ignorant
Dear Future Self,More Like This
Dear Future Me,
I bet you weren't expecting a letter from your past self, were you?
Well, you probably were, considering we're the same person and
you'd have to know I was writing you a letter since you wrote it in the
past so I guess you know already what's in this letter, right? Do I even
need to write it? If I don't write it… will that set off a chain of events
that lead to the you who won't read this being someone completely different!?
I've watched 'Back to the Future' far too many times.
Well, I'm going to write it. I guess I can't offer you infinite insight
about your future since I'm writing forward as opposed to back, and I
don't know what the future is going to be like, but I want to reiterate
a couple of things for you that might be weathered by time.
Alrighty, for starters:
a) Zombies will always be awesome. Forever and always. Don't lose your love for the genre, buddy.
b) There's always time. When it comes to projects, the less of it you have, t
The Beggar's Gift (A Love Story)She wandered the shadows of the streets day and night, face hidden and a frayed basket in her hands. A beggar. Shunned, she became like a bit of dust in the breeze, lost among the many faceless passerby. But she would not be deterred. Her task was one worthy of determination, it was too important to be left to chance.More Like This
For she was not trying to get, but to give.
The beggar bore the basket before her as if it were made of spun glass and it was only her sheer will power holding it together. She offered it up to any gentlemanly face that came her way.
“Please sir, will you take this gift?”
But those few that did not pass by her wordlessly, simply gazed at it momentarily before unintelligibly muttering what she presumed to be an apology and continued on their way.
“Please sir, will you take this gift? All I ask is for one in return.”
Each day she tirelessly asked her question, hoping that one day someone would accept.
Once there was a man. He stopped, peering in the
Shiny MetalShiny metal, shine so bright.More Like This
Make me go to sleep tonight.
Take away the pain and sorrow.
Prevent the coming of tomorrow.
Shiny metal, you cut so deep,
makes me want to fall asleep.
The world fades with each scarlet drip.
Raise the knife and give one more rip.
O shiny metal, how you sting,
but I know the relief the pain will bring.
Each cut is a scream I held in.
Each drop is the releasing of my sin.
Shiny metal, you're my dearest friend,
and now you take me to my end.
Thank you, metal, for setting me free.
Thank you, for the end of me.
The Day You Drowned- to Oswaldo, my first friendMore Like This
I could hear the ocean that morning, some
thirty miles from the coast, in that way
the waves always break down without anyone
around to see the waves break down
and it made no sense that I would wake
to the sound of the waves breaking down that
morning, but there I was, awake, ocean
in my ears, and alone. I learned what happened
much later, bike tire treading water at our
park, a sign hung in the rain. You were
alone, skirting, dancing with the shore
the way you always would, the way you always did
until then, when the ocean danced with you
and led you onward, your favorite music with
your favorite partner leading you on, foam
stepping forward, you stepping back. When
the false step happened, the ocean cradled you
because you were its favorite partner
and it never wanted to lose you, to be left
alone. You, being gracious, went along.
The ocean was in my ears this morning. I hope
you're still dancing in the ocean's arms.
Bringing Down SweeneyI asked him who he was, and he said, "I'm Sweeney," and I believed him. I probably shouldn't have, except that it was true. I can always tell when people are telling the truth.More Like This
Mum and Dad were still in the last battles of the divorce, so I was trying to keep myself out of their hair as much as possible. This was why I had packed two cornmeal pancakes and an old plastic dish of syrup and was heading out into nowhere, where I wasn't necessarily wanted but sure as hell wasn't unwelcome. Not that I was resentful about it or anything. Nobody wants to fight in an amphitheater. Well, nobody but gladiators, but you don't see a lot of those around these days. Goes to show you.
So out I went, with my book and my pair of half-crumbling pancakes and my yellow wellies and an old, oatmeal-colored jumper that had holes in the elbows. "Get a new one, Linnie," everybody was always saying. The truth was I had gotten used to it, and now it felt weird not to have my elbows out in the wind like that. Out
The RainThe sun sets;More Like This
the warmth of its
embrace leaves my
There's not a force to stop
There's not a force to stop it.