zero.5. I think I'm afraid of sex.
It's terrifying that two people can fit together perfectly, without even really liking each other at all.
4. I'm afraid of the day I start replacing myself with somebody else in all of our pictures; of the day I'll see my reflection and wish I didn't have to.
3. I'm afraid of doctors, and medicine.
The first time I took lithium, I couldn't hold it down. So I locked the bathroom door and flushed the entire bottle.
The second time, I couldn't walk more than ten steps without falling.
Honestly, I'm just wondering why they use poison to purify me.
2. I'm afraid of the ocean.
I'm afraid of looking down one day, and not seeing the edges. Of there being nothing there.
I'm afraid of falling and having nothing to catch me.
There's already nobody. The ground is really all I have.
1. I'm afraid of breaking things.
Like, once, I broke my dad's trust in me.
Once I broke somebody's heart.
Once I broke my kindergarten teacher's favorite
death smells like fresh fruit.I put on the shirt and it was far too big, I struggled to find my arms lost in swatches of fabric, thin and deceiving. My tiny arms so slack from the smallest intake of food, the sleeves drooping like old skin on small bodies that everyone refuses the option to quit. Eating has seemed so cannibalistic since you left, the simple act of forcing food down my throat only makes me more of myself and less of you, who will never eat again.More Like This
I stop in the hallway mirror, and look at my smudged eyes and lank hair. In the summer, on the swings, it hung around my face in loose waves. As all things seem to do, it grew as we grew apart in physical state, the hair mourning you like I do, the hair that caught your hands and fingers hangs unwashed and tangled. I smelled you near then, and I pushed out my limbs, and I ran to the glass door, pushing always the pane aside. My tiny hands and I have become more acquainted in the past days, as I hold my cigarettes, as I hold my face. The pool was covered in
Entry #7 An Internet DisconnectionIt's weird how you can be right next to a person and yet feel like you're miles away. That's what it's like right now. You're only two inches from me, but seeing as we're both staring at screens, I can't help but feel as if there is a disconnect. Granted you're working on a final and I'm just wasting my time online, paranoid, hoping you don't notice what I'm typing on the screen only inches from yours. One quick glance and I might destroy what we've worked so hard to keep together, what I've worked so hard to keep bottled away to wait for the right time to tell you. But let's be honest, I can't even decide what I want to eat for breakfast in the morning some days, so how the hell am I going to be the one to judge what is the right time in both of our lives for me to speak up?More Like This
You have no idea how terrifying of a prospect that is. Terrifying on so many levels; rejection, friendship, something more... all of those outcomes may just be a blip in the radar screen that is our existence, but
the science of usacceleration = gravitational pull / massMore Like This
You didnt send my heartbeat into a frenzy the first time I saw you. It was a month or two before I started feeling the little palpitations inside my chest and made sure that my hand accidentally brushed against yours every now and then.
(I wanted to make sure you got used to the feeling of my atoms colliding with yours.)
I told myself it was stupid and simply physical. You werent pulling my heart strings, you were toying with my belt buckle by smiling at me across the room and asking me to spend time with you on a Saturday afternoon. I was sold by the time you pulled into my driveway and my name slipped from between your lips.
(Sweaty palms and twisted vocal chords told me no one said it quite like you.)
I promised myself this was strictly a one-way thing. I feigned like I felt nothing, and in my nervousness I became the witty jackass. You laughed at my barbed-wire jokes and sped through a red light while I was watching
Not worthy of a real entry.Nothing worth making a formal entry for. Just ramblings. I haven't written in so long I feel rusty. Anyway, a glimpse of an image in my mind. Memories can be seductive, especially when it comes to love.More Like This
She stood out under the cover of a sky scattered with stars. As she stood, feet firmly rooted to the ground, breaking through the concrete and establishing a network through the soil; immobilizing her; stabilizing her, she remembered the moments that had passed in that very spot. Images cascaded around her. The sky was falling, the stars flashing by like memories on repeat; light, dark, smiles, tears. She had battled to go home again. She had waded through the waters of time to try and navigate in between the past and present, as if the current of memories was easier to traverse than ocean tides. However, all that met her on the other side of the stream was a failing world; a crystal sky with comets burning through real
When Dragons Die"It's on the beach!"More Like This
It's on the beach.
Amy Dale fingered the pack of cigarettes in the baggy pocket of her jeans as she moved with the rush of the crowd towards the lake, her mind fuzzy with shock. Could it really have come to this? After all these years of hundreds of people searching, working, chasing, probing, trying to pin down the elusive Loch Ness 'monster' - after all her years of work, studying and scraping by and manuveuring with difficulty through her scanty network until she was part of the latest team sent searching for it - all of that ended like this?
It washed up on the shore?
She left most of the crowd behind at the first ring of policemen trying to keep unnecessary people away from the 'monster.' Flashing her ID, she slipped through them and went forward more slowly, the wet ground squelching under her rubber boots. The bulk of the dead creature was perfectly visible now, rising in a steady curve above the heads of the people surrounding it, pointing and talking
forbidden phoenix feathersI could swear that Destiny's a secretary.More Like This
I can imagine her now; black magic and a typewriter underneath her weary fingertips. She could be eight years old, or a billion years young. What difference does it make? She sorts the world out like some drunk god who can't tell the difference between a hard life and an easy death-and she has no boundaries with astrology:
Capricorn Moon: Saturn's rings. Lunar New Year. Ten moons. Ten years before the apocalypse;
That child will be born ten minutes before Hanukkah. He'll be in a Jewish family, but he'll be dismal with a coin and fall in-love with a Catholic instead.
They'll marry when the world ends.
Lucky numbers: 7, 13, 66, 21, 2012
Lucky Color: Blue.
Or maybe she's the crazy cat lady who whispers broken poetry in her sleep. A young opera singer whose heart was trapped in some kerosene addict's palm forty-five years ago, causing her lungs to search for the fire that burned her limbs before she realized that the sparks in her eyes turned as se
Gourmet Novel RecipeRecipe for Writing a NovelMore Like This
Serves: 1. If you’re J K Rowling, billions.
- 1 Tin standard cat food
- 1 Laptop/Computer
- 250g cat biscuits
- 5 Pens, various colours.
- 1 stuffed cat toy with bell
- 1 pouch slightly fussier cat food
- 1 sachet gourmet cat food
- 1 bottle of wine, red or white
- 1 Wine glass (Large)
- 1 300g Tin of tuna
Cooking time: 2-5 years
(Preparation time approximately 10-60 minutes depending on condition of desk and computer speed)
1. Clear space on desk. If you do not have respective space for junk, throw on floor. Place paper and pens in clear space.
2. Turn on computer and allow 10 minutes for slow loading time. Add 2-3 sighs as windows update informs to restart computer. Restart computer and allow a further 10 minutes.
3. Once computer is ready, open up new document.
1. Begin with your plot. Open internet to several pages, use pens and paper to mix r
Her.I hate this. You have no idea how much I hate this. This lonely feeling that builds up inside, creating this dark isolation that keeps me caged up, alone with my thoughts. I see the way my friend looks at his girl, and the way she looks at him. Love. It's perfect. He'll wrap his arms around her and whisper in her ear "Hey, you're beautiful. But you already knew that." And I know, that that's the kind of love that I desire. To be with the perfect girl. To wrap my arms around her and whisper lovely things into her ear. I want to hold her hand when we go on walks and talk in our personal inside jokes that only bring us closer. I want to have those phone calls, late at night, where we fall asleep still talking on the phone. I want to slow dance with her in the rain, and then looks into her beautiful eyes, whisper "I love you" and then lean in for a kiss. I want to be able to cook with her, take naps with her, take care of her when she's sick, lonely, scared. I want to be her protecter, herMore Like This
The Big Leather-Bound BookDolores Umbridge yawned and stretched under the thick green and silver comforter. She strained her ears for sound, but the girls' dormitory was silent. She parted the heavy green curtains which surrounded her four-poster bed and surveyed the room. The other beds were empty. Her roommates had already gone to breakfast.More Like This
Dolores' gaze rested on the large, long-haired orange cat which was snoozing at the foot of her bed. She swiftly grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and yanked it towards her. The cat made a wild, desperate struggle to elude her grasp, but it was all in vain. He had been declawed and his teeth had been filed down. Resigned to his fate, he gave an angry growl as the girl squeezed him tightly to her chest.
"Oh, Mr. Binkles, wasn't that nice of the girls to let me sleep in! They are so considerate! I'd better hurry and get dressed or I'll miss breakfast."
Dolores swung her feet over the side of the bed and slipped them into a pair of fluffy pink slippers which
Are Christians Better?If you believe in a religion, you are almost required to assume that your view of morality will be superior to someone else's. The euphoric feeling that God is behind you, pulling your strings to prevent you from acting badly is very addictive, but unfortunately also very destructive. At some point, any adult Christian must question how much God improves us as people and how much we are left to improve ourselves. What is the role of our own will vs. the transforming power of God? Why do Christians still act badly? If God doesn't make us better people, what is the good of Christianity at all, apart from getting us into heaven? Everyone chooses their own answer, but here is mine.More Like This
I used to believe that following God (honestly and truly) would result in a transformation of the mind and soul that makes people desire to be more compassionate and Christlike towards others. The Spirit would be a gentle guide, never forcing us of course, but still just
I AmI am the shadow, and I am the lightMore 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.
Mr MrWith words I cannot utter,More Like This
not even to silence.
You cross my mind,
and hold my heart.
With the pain it all brings,
I don't even notice.
You're the drug that I crave,
Addicted to the numbness.
The perfect melody,
a chorus stuck in my head.
I'm lost with you,
drowning in your fire.
You're all I wanna see,
Dreaming when I'm awake.
I need a way,
just to escape.
AnorexiaMeet a girl named No One, with a heart of shattered stoneMore Like This
Staring at the other girl, the one that's not alone
Girl with skin that glistens, with the eyes of crystal seas
Grin of shining diamonds and a laugh like a disease
Flashes just a glance and soon, she's every trouble's cure
She has everything… and No One's off to be like her.
Eating turns into a crime, she'd rather be away
Thrusting fingers down her throat to make herself okay
Watching as her very bones are seen behind her flesh
There she drowns in tears, for she has not yet seen success.
Minutes turn to hours, and these hours turn to days
Every moment slipping, slowly fading into grey
Rapidly, her body turns to nothing but her bones
As she fights for beauty, as she battles for the throne.
Broken hearts must learn to beat, and this she came to know
Learning it the hard way when her heartbeat grew too slow
Yet, she somehow managed still to shine from what's within
Lying in her casket with her hidden, unseen sin.
Final thoughts ins
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyesMore Like This
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Insert creative title here.sometimes I hate the ideaMore Like This
I rather eat the autumn
skies crushing cold air between my molars
and hiding shaky hands
between pages of dictionaries
and clickclickclicking sounds of typewriters
you asked me why I wrote poems
on the soles of my shoes
and I told you
it was because I wanted to
imprint myself on the earth
then I can create beauty
even if I am not
Society Is Ugly.Society is ugly.More Like This
Beauty is defined by
How you act.
Not by the number on the
Starving doesn't work.
Purging doesn't work.
Pills don't work.
The girl you see
In the mirror is
Just the way she is
Don't get upset because
You don't match up
To the media's
Cutting won't work.
Crying won't work.
Dying won't work.
Society is ugly.
GayI am gay.More Like This
I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem
I'm not an affliction
I don't need treatment.
I don't need help
I'm not sick
I'm not confused
I'm not a sin.
I am gay.
I'm your daughter
Your co worker
A complete stranger
I am gay.
I need love, just like you
I need smiles
I need support
I need a hug
I need a friend
I need a family
I need acceptance
I need understanding
I need you
I am gay.
I know what love is
I know what pain is
I know what hate is
I know what life is
I am gay.
And I need you to love me
The same way you loved me before you knew
I am gay.
And I have experienced hate
From more people than just you
I am gay.
And I wont change.
I wont give up.
I wont back down.
I wont pretend.
I wont lie.
I wont deny.
I wont hide.
I wont hurt.
I am gay.
And that's okay.
All In Your HeadSoft spoken words at midnight, but she's not really there. Yet it continues, day after day, month after month. An endless cycle that you're bound to repeat no matter how many times you tell yourself she's gone.More Like This
Get it together.
Cherished memories that you can't seem to forget no matter how hard you try. And you try, so fucking hard. But at least when you pretend, the wounds don't hurt so bad. They don't burn and ache and make your vision go red.
Get it together.
So you focus on nothing, her, everything. It doesn't matter. You mutter to yourself, to her, to the shadows. And they respond, they shift, morph, drag you down until you're no more. They suffocate your lungs until you're filled with them. Filled with shadows and her.
Get it together.
Time passes faster, slower, sometimes it doesn't move at all. You're stuck until the next time because there is no in between. There's no stop, pause, no intake of breath. Nothing but a constant hum of silence and screaming. So
Bearing it AllAuthor John Green stated once that "Humans tend to measure time within the framework of important events…The event that we're counting…away from is the defining moment of these people's lives and it reshapes their relationship to the world so completely that it also reshapes their understanding of time." During my "before" I was a dancer; ballet, jazz, and tap. It was everything to me and my dream at the time was to someday dance on Broadway. During one of my classes, while doing battements, it suddenly felt as of my hip had popped out of its socket, causing me to fall to the ground. It didn't hurt at the time, but I still sat out for the rest of the class and went to the doctors the next day. The first trip to the doctors was quite uneventful. I was told that it was probably nothing more than a strained thigh and to just take it easy for two weeks, and if the pain is still there go back to the doctor. That was fine and I did as told, until one day in gym while playing DDR I somehow maMore Like This
you break it, you buy it.1. someone came up to me the other day, and told meMore Like This
that if i didn't start using capital letters in my poems,
she wouldn't read any more of them.
i just told her in a quiet voice that i was tired of screaming
at people who would never listen.
the thing with me is that i always
read too much into things-
people, newspapers, fucks, metaphors.
and usually i fall in love with things that
could never love me back.
2. i destroy the things that mean
the most to me, and i've never gotten the hang
of writing in stanzas.
most days i walk around reciting numbers
and other people's poetry, but usually
i just count the seconds i spend falling apart and
avoiding the things that make me whole because
self-destruction will always be my forte.
3. broken people seem to have a way of finding each other.
like we work under this assumption that we can find
perfect in each other's missing pieces,
even though we all know two wrongs will never make a right
"do you want me to fuck you?" yo
I hate you worldI always thought I was a decent person thinking that if I act good live good then I willMore Like This
be protected from misfortunes, then one day I realized there are still people out there
willing to take things away from others for their own good then they just get away with
it, it's like they feel privileged to take advantages of people who wants to give trust to
the world, these shitty people took advantage of me and it shook my world apart, it's not
because I am at a loss or because I question why I am the victim, because there are people
who suffers much more out there to an extreme I cannot imagine, it's not a game of who has
it worse, but because I will never be able to bring justice to these people and they just
get away with it and they live their life enjoying the way it is and never turn back,
never regret about it, it made me sick to the stomach but it's not like I haven't before,
it just makes me think knowing that among genuinely good people there are these wrongdoers
hiding under th
Sensual TortureSensual Torture:More Like This
You are but a simple pawn;
Caught in a maelstrom of ill feelings and turmoil.
You were not meant to be here -
But unfortunately, here you are my friend...
Now then, I do not wish to drag this out;
There is no purpose in badgering someone who knows so little.
However - without your confession - I'm afraid that
I would not know whom I should share my - pleasures with...
Though I'm certain that you will be sharing plenty...
Of course, it will probably be a poor idea to make you scream,
At least not while I'm still enjoying your fear.
Instead we'll begin with a simple agony;
A quick taste of your pain to whet my appetite...
We'll begin with just a thin incision,
One that is made in the center of both your eyelids.
And then, then we'll make another cut - this one just above the eyes...
Ah, I will adore the feeling of watching your skin peel apart
As the scalpel bites in and draws it aside; much like the curtain
Set upon a theatre stage. It is the
WhoWho are you?More Like This
One who travels the world.
Telling stories of unknown,
And places so far.
Who are you?
Your change of face,
Of one I once knew
Into one I will know.
Who are you?
With your flight and talk
Of places, worlds,
things yet to be sought.
Who are you?
A dreamer? A man?
A scientist perhaps?
But... Doctor who?
I know who.
I traveled with you.
For my life took a turn
With you and your blue box.
For the life with you is the life I want.
To be with you, so you're never alone.
I'm always with you doctor, no matter how far.
You are the man to be with I chose.
With much love, to the doctor, from Rose.
FaithI love your belief in God.More Like This
Not because it matches mine.
Because it makes you even more beautiful to me.
You are the dream I always wanted, but never had.
(God likes to surprise me. Well, consider me surprised.)
It makes me want to sleep every single night by your side.
I want to wrap my prayers around you.
I want to press my lips to the segments of your body.
If you asked, I would rest my head besides yours
and dream your nightmares for you.
(You shudder in your sleep. I don't think you know.)
In faith, I'll be your dreamcatcher.
In dreams, let me wish all your nightmares away
Overcome your Writer's BlockOvercome your Writer's Block:More Like This
If you want to deal with writer's block
the plan is simple, tickty-tock
Give in to madness, go insane
search for words in the midst of rain
When you hit the wall on its painted face
with your fingers and knees you'll find a trace
The secret passage that will lead you through
or perhaps you might be eaten by a grue...
Back to the rhymes that I use to explain
If you try to go forward it will be in vain
So try a new direction, upward or down
Left or right maybe Charlie Brown?
There are no limits except in your mind
Now do a google search and what do you find?
A pond of ideas now stagnant and brown
I threw in Jay Sean and he went down down down
But I digress and let me wind back
If you focus on the dot then the screen will turn black
and a screamer pops out, you've had a really good fright
are my metaphors putting up a really good fight?
Let me put it simply, in english plain:
A good writer isn't one who forces his brain
Order and stru
Sometimes I Lose ThingsSometimes I lose things.More Like This
Sometimes it's little things.
Things like my ipod or my keys.
Bobby pins and chapsticks often evanesce without warning or cause.
Sometimes I lose bigger things.
Things like my favorite sweater or my school bag.
Things like the reason I came into a room,
Or the memories of what I had for breakfast that morning.
Sometimes I lose my train of thought, or the point I was trying to make or an idea.
Sometimes I lose arguments.
Sometimes I lose friends.
I like to think all the things I lose go to the same place.
A plain white place full of hair ties and dollar store bracelets,
And I like to think they all wait there, patiently.
Wait there to be found.
One day I lost my passion.
It floated away like a helium balloon drifting toward the sun.
But I couldn't let it go.
I chased it into the sky,
Past the moon and the stars and the milky-way,
I followed it into the white place,
I faced a sea of bobby pins and hair ties and chap-sticks.
I faced all those lost arguments and id
I'm Not the Marrying KindI'm not the marrying kind.More Like This
I have stones in my hair instead of flowers,
And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.
I'm not the marrying kind.
My words aren't pretty or wise,
And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.
I'm not the marrying kind.
I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder,
And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.
I'm not the marrying kind.
Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior,
And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.
I'm not the marrying kind.
I do not stay silent in arguments,
And I like to lie compulsively, just to see your face change.
I'm not the marrying kind.
I am not the ideal of any lady, nor her likes,
And I do not allow any man to walk all over me.
No. I am not the marrying kind.
But I do like the idea of a little girl with her mo
AutisticYes I said it, I'm autisticMore Like This
I'm not more then you and not less
I think the same as you, sometimes a bit simplistic
I even slightly like, that I must confess
Sometimes people say I'm retarded
I let them do it, I don't care
I might be the person who is disregarded
When I get insulted I only stare
I know the truth
I'm no different from anybody else
Though I might have had a different youth
I will never change
That's something I know for sure
I think that it would be quite strange
I will stick to who I am
We can change what we stand for, but not who we are
Nothing Lives Foreveri.More Like This
When you were a child, we would sit on the porch to talk about your day. And sometimes, we would find a dead bird, or a frog on there. And you would ask me about death and why it happens, looking at the poor creature in my hands, its life cut short and touch it tenderly. I would always say the same thing.
Nothing is meant to live forever, my dear.
The school called me in on your twelfth birthday and asked if I had known how clever you were, that your test scores were the best in the state. They asked me if I knew I had a genius child on my hands who grew bored easily in class and tended to distract others in his classroom, sometimes causing arguments, fistfights and could manipulate his classmates into doing anything.
We don't think this is the school for him. He needs to be challenged appropriately.
You fell in love at seventeen and she was lovely. Kind, caring and beautiful, I couldn't ask for a better girl for you. She was our neighbour
Bad HabitsS.More Like This
She always rubs her mouth,
like there’s a secret she can’t say out loud.
Tracing her own lips to prevent a smile, a frown, or a tear.
Sometimes her real smile peeks through, but you can only see it in her squinted almond eyes; dark amber, and soft, just like that bashful grin.
Sometimes a frown shows when no one is looking, followed by a wistful sigh and a simple wipe of the palm across that silent mouth, trying to push the bad feelings and words away.
Sometimes tears roll past her knuckles; she fails to catch them at the source because she’s scared to wipe her eyes raw, so she brushes them away after they’ve fallen in the crook of her pink lips.
She always hides her mouth,
as if she’s afraid to speak.
She never faces you completely,
like you’re not worth her full attention.
Averting her cold gaze, she walks with a haughty, empty stride.
Even when her striking blue eyes are pointed at you, her chin is always tilted up and shoulder
Vulpes Chapter 19 (FINAL)There had been no doubt about it. The fox that Ace saw pinned beneath the silver vixen had been one of the foxes responsible in his first hound’s death. Even now he proved difficult to kill when a third fox jumped on the scene to defend him.More Like This
How furious he was that it had managed to escape him again! He made sure the fox that had charged him did not. If that bullet to the hips didn’t kill him then the fire would. The silver fox had also managed to get away, but Ace did not care. The ones he wanted were all trapped in the back of the tunnel.
Pulling his shirt up over his nose as a filter against the smoke, Ace jumped the burning tree and entered the darkness.
“One got through! A hunter is coming!” Crevan yelled as he reached the back of the tunnel. “Zorro tried to stop him but,” he swallowed hard. “I don’t think he could.” Only a few more foxes waited to squeeze through to the other side, but the valley was getting crowded.
Lament of a Dying SamuraiI will always remember the first day we met. You, the young daughter of a Master Samurai, and me, an apprentice to your father. You were shy that first meeting, I remember that. From me, you hid your face in a fan decorated in cherry blossoms and wouldn’t meet my eye when I feasted on your beauty. That day, you were wearing a purple kimono embroidered with white flowers and light green leaves.More Like This
I didn’t see you again for many moons and the next time we spoke, the snow had already begun to fall. I can remember you standing next to me, shivering in that light kimono of yours and your full red lips turning a shade of blue. The snow drift had cut off our training hut from the rest of the village and your father had left to see if any road was still useable. We huddled together on the mats, our hands on each other’s for warmth. You told me your name that day. It was Misaki. Beautiful blossom. I never forgot it.
After what seemed like an eternity or a mere second, your fathe
despondenti.More Like This
"are you sleepy today?"
"but you were sleepy yesterday."
she stirs her pomegranate green-tea until it turns from clear to purple
setting it on her bedside table and climbing back into bed again.
her fingers follow the bluer-than-usual constellation veins on her wrists and down
to the freckle on her forearm and then the scar on the inside of her elbow
crossing the tendon as if it were crux.
and then she remembered that God hasn't been with her lately.
today is long and sunny but when she steps outside the humidity creaks her bones
and her skin starts to inflame.
she assumes that if getting the mail is a struggle, having a child would be too.
often times when she sets her tea down she remembers that her Bible is in the drawer beneath
along with the crucifix necklace that her mother made her.
her husband comes home late nowadays and she never questions why that may be
because she knows.
she would do the same too if she had a wife who took four different
Violin MasterThe handle of the violin is worn and weathered, the strings are dusty and the auburn polish has been whitened from years of use. It has been sitting in its case since his long ago childhood.More Like This
But when he finds it at the back of the closet he doesn't hesitate to take his old friend into his arms, and pluck once at the strings with his lithe fingers. They fit to the grooves of the instrument like puzzle pieces, built to be placed in the hollows between the strings, were his eight year old fingerprints have remained for thirty long and empty years.
The bow is still intact, miraculously. Without question he sets it to the strings, and closes his eyes.
The echo of lush, dark music fills the room. The notes ricocheted off the floor boards and through his ears. The ringing fills his head, louder and louder with every stroke. His fingertips press, and stroke the coarse strings to the desired note. They all build up, growing faster and faster.
He is intoxicated by the music. His throat feels as
The Goddess Lettermy Dear Child,More Like This
The world is bigger than You think. You spend too much time taking in everything, trying to encompass the entire globe. When You look at it as One object, it’s tiny. Miniscule. It is only when You look at the little things does the world become a grand entity.
i did not create this world for You to look at the whole and begin subtracting from it the individual aspects. The intent was not for You to take away from Your World, but to add it up, to start with the small things and add them to other small things until You had reached a greater Sum. One can be quite small, but it may also be quite big.
Have You ever considered a caterpillar? Few do, but a very long time ago a young Girl prayed to me and asked if caterpillars were happy. i remember Her small voice rising into the clouds...
Holy Mother, are butterflies happy? Do they see an older sibling and know they will be that beautiful someday? Or are they afraid something will go wrong and they won
Dirt And DiamondsHow can we recognizeMore Like This
what happiness is,
what happines means,
when we do not know
what sorrow is,
how sorrow hurts?
How can we realize
how beautiful life is
how worth living a life is
when we do not know
what bereavement is
how certain death is?
How can we know
that love is a gift,
that to be loved is a gift,
when we don't know
what loneliness means
what to be hated means
How do we know a light shines bright,
when there's no shadow to compare it to?
Sometimes we need the dirt
to see diamonds shine brighter
She always fell for boys who needed saving.She always fell for boys who needed saving.More Like This
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
Lacklustre StardustPaint something withMore Like This
That hang just at
The tip of your tongue,
And cross the gaps
With your fingertips,
The way you used to do,
Before the stars fell
And your bones turned to ash.
There used to be solar flares
In your breath, and
An icy vacuum,
Longing to warm,
Behind your eyes,
Before you fell into
That stole your light.
Across the nothing
Of the cosmos,
Searching for what
You claimed to have
For the purpose of
Living in your past
(Before your stars fell).
No one will see
That the starshine you had
You cannot bear the thought
Of allowing your
Particles to scatter-
You cannot comprehend
Going to sleep.
Poisonous FearMy poisonous shadow of fearMore Like This
Glue-like hands and fingernails
Crawling up my swollen spine
Sinking into exposed brain
It chains itself inside
It binds me to its presence
Within a self-abusing mind
Within a body made of shiver
Nightmares broke my running legs
And made my eyes see light
A promise of unbroken world
That I can never have
A shattered personality
An intoxicated sanity
Addicted to my dread
I listen to its silent breathing
I am what it came for
I'm the monster that I fear
So sweetSomething so sweet...More Like This
In a cry for help.
That you never heard.
All alone in my room.
And I never told you what was on..
The inside of my mind is like a cage.
I'm trapped by my thoughts.
Entangled in my fears.
The ropes only pull tighter when..
I've lied to you and everyone I love.
There's nothing you could do to save me from..
The darkness seems to be closing in.
It's always there to remind me of how shitty I am.
I'm alone again.
A Fool For FairytalesWhy am I such a fool?More Like This
For dreaming about fairytale love stories?
For hoping that my Prince Charming will come,
to save me from the balcony
of desperation and despair?
Every little girl does as a child.
So, why am I such a fool?
I am a fool for...for falling for you.
The juicy red apple that just caught my eye,
the ugly duckling that never truly was a swan,
the beast that seemed so loving,
for something so terrifying.
You were my Prince Charming!
You were my saviour,
who got me to let down my golden hair!
You were my true love!
But this mirror of dreams and sweet delights
into a million pieces.
But it was not of the clock that struck twelve's doing,
You took what we had and broke it!
Breaking my heart within the next second of the new day.
We had something!
The perfect fitting glass slippers!
Although...I am the fool.
For believing that life could be a perfect fairytale.
For believing that everything was always going to be okay,
Potato ChipsThe other day I finally realized, as I was going to the pantry for a snack, that my mind tortures me; I stared at the plastic film as the light bounced off of it and played with the shine of the colors. The shades all communicating with each other, hints of apologies and gestures, tales of beration and derogatory statements. Red was the primary color. It was a dark, ground-like red. Hot, haughty, gawking at the other colors, flaunting its vibrant steadiness, all the while consuming the shallow shyness of black as it creeped around the edges, trying to make itself noticed, but only succeeding in making red even more vivacious. The yellow was round and bold, but not quite as bold as the red. It knew its place, and its limits, and this knowledge inevitably kept it in its shape. The white complimented it, being more friendly than the red and more outgoing than the black. It swirled and dipped around the yellow, flirting with its curves as it turned and pivoted in and out of vision. All ofMore Like This
For the both of us."I will do anything to make you happy" he said and I believed him.More Like This
As you sat there with your dirty blond hair, covering your crooked smile and those piercing blue eyes ... I felt like I belonged right where I was.
It's not possible for us to feel exultant for a long time, is it? And you truly couldn't make me better, no matter what you did and that's probably why you gave up in the end.
You left me there, when I needed you the most.
They always do ... don't they?
You told me that it wouldn't change a thing, then why does everything feel so altered?
I can still hear your laughter at night and feel your warmth finger caress my cheek.
I still sleep in your arms every night (even though I don't know where you are).
I wish I wanted you to go, but you are the only reminder I have of a time where I actually wanted to be alive.
How can I possibly let you go, when you are the only reason why I stay?
"You are the only one I have" he said and I believed him.
And therefore I did ev
HangingHanging...More Like This
...On a line.
Not literally, of course.
Waiting for a familiar voice.
Halfheartedly inserting a coin
Into the open slot
And picking up the receiver.
The cold metal matches your freezing fingers.
Hesitating while touching the keys of the dial pad,
You almost forget the number.
Finally entering the correct address,
You start to hang.
On a line.
Each long "beep" sound is like
A soothing bell to comfort your heart.
It hypnotizes you until you forget who you were even calling...
You are in love with waiting eternally.
You feed off of that sound,
Knowing that it's something you can surely depend on.
Separate WaysI've drifted too far from shoreMore Like This
and as I float, over caverns deep
I outline broken bonds so steep
of when we were close as peas
the seasons rolled in waves
the days, like leaves in a breeze
across the sea, the world was ours
but alas, dreams of you won't keep me warm
forever more, the bridge between a young heart cries
"I've drifted too far from shore!"
The Night MysteriesSeams of rain open up andMore Like This
seep into the cracks of darkness
and lightning like quicksilver
illuminates that which is hidden;
a script written in echoes
of far-off thunder.
Strife's Story ProloguePrologueMore Like This
“Dad! Dad!” I cried happily as I ran into the throne room.
My father turned his head towards me as a kind and caring smile spread upon his face. He stepped down from his throne and hovered to me as we met in the middle of the room. Bending down, he picked me up in his arms and spun in a few circles, still hovering, as my laugh echoed throughout the room.
“There you are!” my father said as he stopped spinning, placing me on the floor. “I was beginning to wonder what my little girl was doing.”
“Dad! Look what I can do!” I closed my eyes, held out my arms bent at my elbows, and focused. After a second, I felt a bit of power form in my chest and make its way to my hands. In a flash, there was an empty glass sitting in my hands and a small cotton candy cloud floating above that. A dark brown liquid, known as ‘chocolate milk’, fell from the cloud and filled the glass from the top down.
“My, my!” my father smiled
Poem: DreamsDreamsMore Like This
A mysterious landscape,
islands floating in the sky.
unlike those of Earth.
You step on the edge,
and look down.
Spread out your wings,
even if you don’t have them.
into the deep.
mysteries await you.
Black and white,
rain and sun.
Soar through them all,
lifted by your non-existent wings.
A sudden rumble,
the islands crumble away.
What is up,
what is down.
You fall deep,
hit the ground.
Open your eyes,
welcome back in reality.
TouchtouchMore Like This
by ~meganbom, Dec 2, 2012, 5:35:20 PM
Journals / Personal
Your hand runs down my face, touching my lips looking into my eyes, i look up into yours, your hand flows down my neck down to my body holding me tight pull me in looking at my lips say "im going to kiss you" as ur lips touch mine shivers run down my spin threw my heart and out my mind, falling to the ground i say back "i will kiss you back"....
Please no using ANY of my work with out my written consent
Inner BattleI feel like I'm being pulled,More Like This
Left then right, then left again.
I'm taking two steps forward,
Ready for the challenge,
And then I take two steps right back again.
I'm at a standstill.
Time has suddenly stopped.
I hear my shaky breathing.
I hear my heart beating.
Then I don't step forward, I run.
I run until I can't run anymore.
I run until I collapse,
In the middle of nowhere,
All alone. But not alone,
Because I have me.
Everything that was evil,
That was holding me back,
I broke past them,
And left them far behind me.
And I am never going back.
I feel devastated.(Tuesday January 29, 2013)More Like This
I've cried already and tearing up again.
Okay. I have a 12 year old Yorkie goin on 13. He was diagnosed with heart failure (CHF) a few months ago. He has been normal since, with the occasional hacking cough. He has an enlarged heart too. Today when I woke up, when he saw me, he seemed normal: happy. I went to pet him and he began to hack. Which is normal for a small one to occur when he's excited. Since then, he's been breathing a bit heavily and hacking more. He's calmed down since, not much hacking, but he's still breathing heavily. I read some articles online saying that he would live no more than a few more years I'd we take good care of him. I knew this was coming; I didn't expect it to be so soon.
If anyone has a similar story they'd like to share to make me feel better or just want to try and cheer me up, I'd appreciate it. I have school tonight and don't want to be sad for that. I also have homework to do, but I just need something to cheer me up and
I Knew You Were LeavingI knew you were leaving...before you left.More Like This
You were letting me go...a minute...an hour...a day at a time.
You told me, not in words, but in the withdrawal,
of all which bonded two, as one. Our time together,
no longer, a time of love and caring, but moments
of uncomfortable silence and trite conversation.
I know you were leaving before you left...
I just didn't know how to make you stay.
Our RelationshipI think it's funnyMore Like This
That even with how much I like you
And how close you and I are
We don't seem to touch each other
As much as I'd like
It still seems like there is a sort of barrier
And neither of us knows what to do
Or what is ok
It seems like we are hiding
What is between us
If there is anything between us
It is hard to tell where we stand with each other
At least from my end
And even though I'd like to know
I don't mind how it is now
Because we're still close
And I like it too much to give up
a picture of a plane.The day her daddy got sent away, the whole neighborhood fluttered with closing curtains and eyes watching through cracked doors. His wife called it a mistake, the cousins called it rape and said he was a pedophile.More Like This
And she just kept dipping her fingers into paint and dreaming about kites and the eyelashes on dolls, because she didn't know what any of those words meant.
A year later, he came back, and she washed the sidewalk so he couldn't see that she was drawing their secret in light blue and petal pink chalk.
"Those are nice pictures, baby," her daddy would tell her, but she hated it, because he always sounded sick, and he would rub her back with those big, rough hands until the neighbor's blinds twitched like the nervous wings of a bird.
Aleksander finally made her daddy stop, because he sat on his porch all day with a scratchy blanket in his lap, saying prayers beside a full ashtray.
"Why does he do that?" she asked him in July. "I don't like it when he does that."
He patted her
Random Musings of the Lovestruck我爱你。More Like This
Metastasis98.00More Like This
Autumn is the season when everything dies.
The leaves shrivel up and your lungs go with them, tiny dejected organs drying out inside your sternum, crinkling under our footsteps. The doctors pronounce their diagnosis as the leaves fall, listing medical terms and percentages and something about medication options.
The disease is metastatic: it has bored its way out of your lungs and into your bones. Dissatisfied, it's going for your organs, your liver, your heart. The prognosis says Christmas is a pipe dream, likely as the sun ceasing to set.
You promise it anyway.
November comes and I am a fish, breathing through makeshift gills carved into my hips, lopsided and crude.
I make fresh ones twice a day, slice myself open once in the morning and once at night in hopes the air will come a little easier each time. I make three and count them off:
and hope my heart stops.
The leaves have been carted away, pummeled into dust, and blown away in the wind.
eight things about growing up.eightMore Like This
I told my brother I was going to be a fairy when I grew up. Or a bird, or sprite something with wings so I could touch the clouds.
I learned that fairies weren't real when I was six, after I tried to jump off a parking structure to see if I could fly.
That day I also broke my leg in three places and saw an angel's face in the clouds. (And don't tell anybody, but sometimes I spend all day looking for him.)
My neighbors back in Denver had a son who was a schizophrenic. After he went off his meds for the third time, he painted the windows red and told his wife she had to abort their baby because it wasn't human.
A year later, I heard that he was arrested after pointing a hunting rifle on his family. It was loaded, but he didn't pull the trigger because his mother said she trusted him.
I guess love is kind of like that, too.
Seattle didn't come until I was fifteen, in October.
My family and I took a boat ride on Friday. We listened to the captain
Never Let Him Look South WestThe distance between Dublin and Boston is approximately 3000 miles. You told me this when you were staring south west with the kind of madness I have only seen in sailor’s eyes when they lived in lighthouses too small for their giant ship dreams. It should have worried me, that glint in your eyes. I just dismissed it as one of your navigational tantrums.More Like This
When we went to the pub later that evening, you told me I should have the fish and chips, but the way you like it, with more vinegar and no tartar sauce. I said that made it too salty, and you told me that was how real sailors ate their fish. My reactions always were slow to your behavior. I believe the expression ‘at sea’ was applied more often than not when you spoke.
I never thought that the walks you mentioned on the beach when we were children had any more to the idea than the romance of it all. So when you told me you belonged to the sea, I thought you were talking about your soul.
It never truly meant anything
i had an out-of-body experience.I had an out-of-body experience at the age of thirty-one.More Like This
Every year between the ages of ten and eighteen, I sent a letter to NASA. I told them a little bit about myself, the same general description year after year, and always insisted that despite my medical condition, I would one day love to sail through the stars. My dream was to be out there in the universal abyss, exploring every unknown corner until we knew all that we could.
Art would taunt, “Sick kids don’t go to space” before Mom slapped the back of his shoulder with a spatula.
NASA was as nice as they could be, but the bottom line was that we all knew I couldn’t do it. The spaceship would need to have extra space just for the amount of medication and equipment I’d have to bring along, and that was if I could even survive the zero-gravity environment. Whoever wrote the responses encouraged me to keep dreaming, and boasted about donations the association made to various sickle cell charities.
Love Letters On the TrainDear Stranger,More Like This
I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress).
You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something I'm unaware of, something silently and intimately your own; a secret from the world that makes everything all the more meaningful to you.
- The Passenger
I'm not in the habit of reading post-its from strangers. I found a love-letter hidden in a newspaper once, that the author forgot or was too afraid to send. It made me sad to think
dear teen meDear Sarah,More Like This
Remember that time you tried to top yourself by hiding under the covers? That was hilarious. I remember you tugging at the edges of the blanket and praying, without a shred of scientific evidence, that the lack of oxygen would be enough to kill you. You sat under there for something like fifteen minutes before you gave up and went to make a sandwich. But while you were under there, choking a little on your pillow because you never washed your sheets, I remember you thought someone was watching. Someone who understood your suffering. Someone who understood you.
Kid, that was me. And I've got two words for you: man up. Life can get a whole lot harder than this. Before too much longer, it's going to. And by the time you get to my age, you're going to be glad.
Why were you
love is coming home--i don't write about God.More Like This
i don't write about God because it's writing about love, it's writing about faith, it's writing about trust and hope and belief and pain, the kind of gut-wrenching betrayal you feel when you've given up and you're waiting for someone to save you, only nobody ever does.
and who else are you going to blame?
it's easy to write about a God you don't believe in. it's easy to pour out all your hate and anger and hurt and deepest, darkest broken fears and fling them from your fingertips and scream, this is not God! it's easy to believe in nothing.
it's not easy to believe.
believing is opening yourself to the pain. it's letting go and falling back with your eyes closed, your heart in your throat because you can't see whether there's anyone waiting to catch you. and what if you hit the ground? what if there are no hands waiting to embrace you? what if there's nobody waiting at the beginning, when you finally turn around ready to try again; what if there's
to Oregoni dreamt of you last night, my body cocooned in the white silk once mouthed by your lips. i let the world dim away under my eyes and ears and found you hiding underneath the drape of my mind.More Like This
you were coming from Oregon.
"Oregon! out of all the places," i said. "you were living in Oregon after all this time."
and you pulled onto my street in a red oldsmobile just like you said your daddy lent you and you found me near the honeysuckle bushes, the ones that grew like wild-fire round here. you plucked the ones i had in my hand and put them in my mouth. they were so sweet, just like you.
he was quick to find you. he smelled you from the house-- the house i didn't want, full of things i didn't need, frothing with people i didn't love. he never forgot your scent of honey and spice that had kindled with every inhale just after i'd disappeared the summer before. he shoved you against the wire fence and wrung his hands in your shirt and told you to get away.
"leave us the fuck alone
The CartI always got my best book recommendations from my old library cart. Well, the library cart wasn't really mine. I was a shelver at my town's library, before I started college, and I would use their carts to do my job.More Like This
I first noticed something was up with the cart when I was shelving juvenile paperbacks. These were the lightest books we owned (and kept in the worst shape - kids are brats). But when I was rolling the cart, it was heavy. It groaned when I pushed it, and steering it was a mini-workout. It wasn't this hard to move a double-stack of adult non-fiction.
What was really odd, though, was as I removed more books, it barely got lighter. Finally, when all of the Fairy Princesses, Mary Kate and Ashley's, and other stupid books were shelved, its weight became normal. Only R.L. Stine's Goosebumps remained, and it was actually pretty light, even lighter than I'd expect.
I shrugged the incident off. But then I noticed it happening more and more. And then I noticed patterns
.Vampire Rant.I am so SICK</i> of you little humans!!More Like This
Why do y'all glorify me? Why do y' like the idea of what we are?? We are NOT</i> what y' think we are!
We are not prissy lords 'n ladies, wanting t' sweep precious, wonderful, oh so NOT</i> deserving you off yo' feet! No, we mo' likely to EAT YOU</i>.
We are NOT</i> your sexual toys!! We do NOT </i> want to pleasure you in any way, unless you're on the menu 'n we want to keep y' whole 'til then. 'n then th' only pleasurin' done is AFTER yo' dead!! 'n y' can't say NOTHIN' 'bout Necrophiliacs. We's DEAD 'f y' hain't fergott'n.
We are NOT</i> goth/punk teenagers that wear all black, dye up they' hair, wear girly make-up, 'n rock out at heavy metal concerts (though that music is perdy awesome). The majority 'a us 're adults, 'n forever stuck that way.
We are NOT</i> every one 'a yo' neighbors, yo' doctor, th' perdy coffee shop girl, th' president of t
.::One Last Chance::.I remember back 'round the 1940's, 1950's, or so, I'd wandered back toward my home soil, though I can assure you it wasn't intentional. I'd been wanderin' for many years, getting pretty lost in my directions, and it hadn't been too long after bein' "snuffed" by the mob--'r so they thought. Then again, it might just be my bad sense of time.More Like This
I remember it was the wet season. Clouds kept me nice 'n safe, and rain drizzled at every second 'a the day. It was such a morning that I was curled up on a back stoop to a shop, tryin' to catch some sleep after bein' out all night. Half asleep, as I always had slept back then, keepin' myself out of harms way, I smelled a young woman, prolly no older than I look, come close. Knowin' she was human, I warn't too worried, but she made me jump a foot off-'a the ground when she touched my shoulder. Startled, she stepped back. I lifted my head 'n looked to her, knowin' that for what time it was, I had to look perdy tired.
She gave me a "poor thang" look an
.::The Face of Anger::.More Like This
Damien's mind was already half lost to the world, his vampiric-insane side slipping orders into his head. He forwent his coat as not to get it dirty, his adrenaline keeping him plenty warm even in the freezing cold as he bounced toward Downtown. As he approached, he leapt over a feeble fence to find himself in a dark alleyway. The darkness didn't control him at all, his predatory eyes large and keen.
The smell and sound of blood in a living body was near--he could tell. His eyes locked on the poor sap that happened to walk by. He snarled out a thick animalistic sound, attracting the human's attention. The vampire's glowing blue eyes and shining ivory fangs were all that shown in the dark, instilling enough fear into the man that he immediately ran.
The chase was on.
Damien exploded out of the alley after the running man, following at just enough of a pace to let the chase play out, even though he knew that his agility could catch the measly human even if they could run at Cheetile spee
300 Sentence Challenge -2 of 2051. ChristmasMore Like This
Demi sat quietly minding his own business on a bench in the mall. His inner observer had come out to play yet again, and made him intrigued by all the activity going on around him; he stuck out like a sore thumb, what with his ragged clothes and such, but his curiosity couldnt be contained. He watched human after human scurry by him, bags in hand, each one muttering something about Christmas; he didnt quite understand, but apparently it involved them buying copious amounts of stuff for others, and this, he just couldnt understand, perhaps in part that hed never gotten a gift in his life
Demi cocked his head as little kids approached him, tugging on his jacket and saying how good of a costume he had on. Every year around the same date they did it, confusing him more and more as they asked to see his super realistic fangs and that his skin was just the right shade for a real vampire. Something in h
300 Sentence Challenge -1 of 2001. CemeteryMore Like This
He walked silently through a cemetery that had been in his path. He read most of the names of the gravestones he passed, all useless names to him for hell never die like them, nor had he ever know any of them. As he read dates long gone, he wondered why he hadnt joined those people in the graves, back when the dates had been engraved.
He laid back, silently, willingly letting his love feed from his neck. Regardless of his own vampirism, he couldnt not let her; he loved her too much. She gently stroked his lips with her fingers as she did, parting them and moving to cut her finger on his sharp lower canine, greeted by him greedily lapping up her blood; he settled with the little cut on her finger, for her blood to him was poison, but a beautiful poison he couldnt resist.
She carefully inspected his left hand, his dominant hand, and the barcode tattooed into his flesh. When did you get this..?
He shrugged a little,
07.03.09she lingers a moment in the doorway, a hint of desire in her ivory face. the hesitation is barely noticeable, a subtle opening, an offer for him to make a move.More Like This
she wants to.
but he's too important to her. she cares too much and she can't bear to ruin it. she'd rather just not know.
jogging lightly up the stairs she reprimands herself for the awkwardness of that confused split second where she, for an instant, looked desperate. she hates that she is imperfect. she wants to be a woman he could be proud to have on his arm. she fears she comes off as a confused, antisocial, drunken floozy. she fears she annoys him.
she sits alone now. home but restless. she wants his touch, his taste. she can smell him in her clothes, just from being near him, from sitting on his bed, she has absorbed th
Read thisHey,More Like This
I just wanted to say that I know you're going through some stuff right now, stuff that may make life a little harder or even a lot harder. I know you've felt so alone and like no one cares that you're hurting and suffering, but I just wanted to say I love you. Wherever you are, whoever you are, whatever has happened or is happening to you… you're not alone.
You are amazing, beautiful, wonderful, unique, and worth every breath of life you breathe. I love you, I need you in this world, and I wish only the best things for you. You are in my heart always, all of you. I pray that you find a peaceful end to the troubles of your life and I just want you to know that despite everything, despite feeling like no one cares… please know that I do. I may be a stranger to you but that doesn't mean I don't feel for you. You are special and so very loved by more people than you know.
You Don't Know Your Daughter At AllJust because she is no longer in a cradleMore Like This
Does not mean that your baby wont fall
And if you think that her smile means she is happy
Then you don’t know your daughter at all
On arriving home from school she runs up the stairs
And locks herself away in her room
It’s so easy to think that it’s just teenage angst
That will pass in time and be gone soon
Perhaps you assume that it is just boy trouble
A romance that will soon be forgot
Yes, maybe her problems are just a passing phase
But then again what if they are not
What if they’re deep rooted in the parental soil
That you’ve been failing to cultivate
As she grows, the leaves of her childhood are falling
And as of yet have not been replaced
Dismal days are making her deciduate
No wonder she’s feeling insecure
Her branches of self belief have become so bare
With her leaves left scattered on the floor
She patiently waits to once again see the light
Not knowing that this darkness will lift
It is your job to
Daddy, Daddy.Daddy, daddy! Come play with me.More Like This
I'll be the princess filled with glee.
You'll be the king, you'll reign over the sea.
Daddy, daddy, come play with me!
Daddy, daddy! Let's play a game
I'll grow up and like magic, i'll change
Into somebody so odd and so strange
Daddy, Daddy. Let's play a game.
Dad, hey dad! Let's do something fun.
I'll pull the trigger of this heavy gun
After I've given you some time to run
Dad, hey dad, let's have some fun.
Dad, come on now, can't you see?
This knife in your back and this bullet in your knee
It's who I've become, who I've grown to be.
Daddy, come on...
Come play with me.
lost...the words spill from my eyesMore Like This
silent and bruising
there is no reason to feel outcast
to be riddled with fear
to keep wondering
if in every moment
in every tick-tock
that a heart may be slipping
just a little bit farther
from its soul
how to breathe
how to smile
how not to die
with each second
that you are there
Second star to the rightThere are days where sheMore Like This
forgets how to fly;
wings all tangled up in
"There is nothing wrong with me,"
"Nothing at all.
I just can't seem to
The clock strikes
she's nothing but
and withering pixie dust.
Star-crossedYou woke up onMore Like This
the wrong side of
a cosmic bed
A pillow of
under your head
are all the tears
which you have shed
Your ring finger
in outer space
among a dreamed
Your light shines bright
but not enough
to seize the day
Let your love be
then I'll wish to
I'm Such An Insecure Diaperbaby That I Passive-AggI always wanted to be that girl.More Like This
Pretty, clever, friendly.
Everywhere she goes, she has a big smile.
Everyone loves her.
Clear white skin.
Sporty, long blonde curls,
And flawless blue eyes.
She's a princess.
Confident, loves her true love.
Everything is easy for her.
And I remember when I was young,
With darkening hair,
Tripping on the stair,
I can remember dressing in pink,
Trying to please everyone.
Because I needed to be that girl.
The devil refused my soul.
I would cry at night and say,
'Princess, princess, deep inside.'
'Come to me on a turning tide,'
'And let me be you.'
Wasted days trying to be that cool kid.
Chase the ball,
Chase the ball,
Try and do it all.
Hang around in the sun.
It'll turn that hair blonde.
Wear make-up. Your skin will be Snow White.
Take every chance you get,
Be the Princess.
Buy the fancy dress.
Chase the ball,
Chase the ball,
Try and do it all.
Be a princess by birth.
Be a success.
Wear the pink dress.
Talk through your nose.
Never read prose.
Chase the b
The reason I stopped tryingI'm just going to stop trying.More Like This
Because you'll never understand.
I carry dreams inside a fist
While you hold cruelty in your hand.
I'm just going to stop trying.
Because I've been through so much hate
I've been through knives and ropes and scars
And wounds and blood and blades.
I'm just going to stop trying.
Because through all I've had to do..
The ignorance of people
Is the worst thing I've been through.
I'm just going to stop trying.
And you want to know the truth?
The reason I've stopped trying
Is because of those like
Another Day Since You Went AwayThe sun rises on a new dayMore Like This
I awake, hoping it will stay
For it has been a while
Since I have smiled
I know how this ends again
Probably never gonna change glen
For she has gone away
And there she shall stay
She flew away with the breeze
Telling you to be at ease
But things just aren’t the same
Without her in your game
We were the best of friends
Or did that come to an end
Will you come back and stay?
Or even just return for a day?
Is it that hard to see?
That I miss you…