I Hate ThisI HATE This!More Like This
I hate this.
I am not interested in nobility and bravery.
I shouldn't have to spell out what I need.
They all should figure it out, what is this like, for her?
They should know what they need to tell me.
You'll still be dependable, steady, pretty, desirable, competent.
They'd better not treat me like I'm made of porcelain,
No walking on eggshells around me. Do they think I'm weak?
Haven't I been strong enough?
Don't I always handle everything that's thrown at me?
I don't want that "kid glove" thing!
What? Me? Oh don't worry about it it's no big deal.
I'm sure it will turn out to be nothing. Oh, I'll be fine, really.
I hate this.
I hate this!
It's been a long time since I was pretty.
I was, once. Classic Scandinavian beauty: tall, slim, strong.
Now, still have the "faded remnants of classic beauty" thing going.
And the warm, pudgy "Mom" thing,
Nice hair, with frequent coloring. They used to say
"She's got a smile that'll melt
Suprino So Far 4More Like This
I managed to clap a hand over Salina's mouth before she screamed, but only just. I held her tight and whispered. "She's not dangerous, she showed up in my hallway yesterday and she needs my help for something, you don't have to be afraid." I didn't mention that she wasn't inclined to eating faces, even though that was what had mainly preoccupied me when I first set eyes on her. Perhaps Salina didn't have the same strange fears I did. I slowly removed my hand from her mouth, wiping the smeared purple lipstick on my jeans.
"What what is she what are you?" Salina asked, still staring wide eyed at the visage of Ted on the well, and clinging to me. I held her tight, but managed to keep myself from whispering soothing things; that would have just annoyed her.
"I am The Endless Darkness." Ted said, then seemed to glance at me, "But you can call me Ted. I've recruited your friend Wolfgang here to help me look for the new king of Iyn."
I was happy to see Salina had the exact same re
These DaysMore Like This
In the land where even super men die
With sordid secrets in their hands
Politicians don't mean to imply
That the internet is just string and cans
Indifferent to my world, to my rights
And to your ugly face
Death is another festival of lights
The consolation prize of this rat race
Extract the full extent of meaning
From how long stubborn doubt lasts
A drunken pigeon sent careening
Lives longer than the outcasts
Stuck in the dullness of normality
Every truth is a clever feint
Living inside a virtual reality
Children learn the morals they paint
Limited talent and dying beauty
Pays well while scholars starve
Leaders reward neglect of duty
Cowards rot in the caves they carve
Gray walls curving all around
Hiding the holes in the trap
They've no idea of what we've found
While they supervise the spinal tap
There are always windows
That offer blissful escape
In poetry or in prose
They encourage dreams to take shape
Maybe I'm SleepingMore Like This
I thought I found love, but it was
just a smudge on my glasses
I wanted to learn
But I skipped all my classes
Am I just a speck
On an unvacuumed floor?
But you're something more
Cash it in
The trash goes out
There's no hope
But where's the doubt?
Two dumb kids and a dumber dog
Waiting for the skies to cry ice
We're bigger now
But size came at a price
Back in the day
They called me a self-sustained
Loss of conclusion
Still I kept them entertained
Every time I waited for the bus
Fear Fears are odd things. Sometimes they make sense and are rational. Take, for example, being afraid of dogs. Usually it’s because of a bad experience with a dog. That is a logical, solid connection between experience and fear.More Like This
Sometimes it’s the size of the animal and its unpredictable nature that makes them frightening. But what if you are afraid of something and you don’t know why? What if the fear just comes and is irrational, like walking into a house that you have never been in before and it makes you uneasy? You can’t put your finger on why or what, but it’s still there, an underlying current racing through your awareness, barely coming to the surface of your mind. A shadow dancing just beyond the light of your conscious thought.
As you visit with your friends who have moved into this new house, this feeling of wrongness creeps in closer. You start feeling a bit unsettled as you hand her your coat. She hangs it up on a hook