viewpoint of an alien.instead of metaphorsMore Like This
for the river, i think of
drowning myself in it:
i think about how fast
the blood will be swept
away by the water,
about how slashed wrists
and dead weight will mean
a lot of paperwork for
border control, about how
long it will take for my
family to learn that
the unknown body they heard
about on the news
instead of coping mechanisms,
i turn to the bottle.
the cold glass against my lips
feels calm and safe,
the trembling in my hands
needs to go away;
i feel my body shutting down
and i laugh.
i want love instead of
chapped and scarred hands,
a brain that’s half-dead,
a body that never quite
learned how to work right.
i want a tiny apartment with
a fridge full of magazines and
poetry print-outs instead of food
because coffee will sustain me.
a dead opossum on the side of
the road does not evoke
a fresh understanding of Death,
a new sense of The Meaning of Life;
it just makes me cry.
i pull over and bury it in the gr
Captain Eo fanfic.-Ch. 3More Like This
Sometimes you just have to laugh at life's little setbacks. Like, tripping up the stairs, or, accidentally spilling a sticky soft drink on your love interest at the movie theater.
For example, being apprenticed to an airhead human captain who makes a fool out of you and all that you've worked for your entire life, AND- oh yeah, pilots a ship that looks like a tin can with wings. Its not like I was expecting a first class Spaceracer with a glossy gold finish, but I mean, really, the thing looked like something the Millennium Falcon threw up. The sad little hunk of metal sat in the far corner of the hangar where our squad's fleet was kept, and after what seemed like an eternity of silent walking, we came to a stop in front of it.
"Well, this is home." said Eo, patting the wall of his ship. I stared off in a disinterested manner, refraining myself from responding. (Being stubborn has always been one of my many talents) Eo sighed and grabbed a k
Captain Eo fanfic.-Ch. 4More Like This
When I woke up the next morning, I was under the delusion that I would be back at the University-That Jaelene would be standing in the doorway waiting for me and I would hurry after her to our first set of classes-That everything would be back to normal. Unfortunately this was not the case. My nostalgic imagination was shattered by the cold, stale air which woke me from a dreamless sleep. I rolled to the side of the bed and groggily looked around at the closet-sized room I now called home. Since there was no morning, evening, or night in space, it was necessary to train your brain to be precociously aware of time. It was very easy to oversleep, or rather, to forget to sleep at all, but it was expected of all associates of the Cor to be above such rookie mistakes. I was always on time when it came to sleep hours-But, I was also a girl, and if I felt like spending an extra two hours in the bathroom deciding whether I wanted my hair up or down, it
Captain Eo fanfic.-Ch. 5More Like This
"For the last time, I am not going to dismiss Ryder from this team!"
My crew groaned, determined to have me decide otherwise.
"But she nearly got you killed Captain!" Idey persisted.
"She nearly got all of us killed." Hooter corrected. My hands sifted nervously through my hair as I paced about the parlor, trying to think up a response. Major Domo clicked quietly in the corner, and I looked to him for some sort of support. Come on Major, you always know what to say, help me out!
As if hearing my internal plea, the old robot sat up, humming slightly before giving his input:
"I'm not usually one to argue with your decisions, Captain.." He paused. His robotic brow furrowed and he dropped his gaze, "...But I sincerely think that we would be better off sending Ryder back to the University. You could always get a new apprentice assigned to you next year..."
"Yeah! Send her back to the University; make
Pencil ManPencil Man was something special,More Like This
He dreamed to be a hero.
To wear a cape
And "write all wrongs"
Would be his alter ego.
And "drawing swords"
With man and beast alike.
Those who called him 'yellow bellied'
Would see that he could fight!
But Pencil Man forgot one thing,
His one and only weakness,
She had quite the look,
She always left him speechless.
A night of passion soon ensued
He gave her all he could.
As morning came
All that remained
Was just some broken wood.
Not A Pipe DreamI am living in the shadow of my potentialMore Like This
And lately patience seems to be in short supply
While expectation overflows in abundance
Pipe dream, is it not enough that I have tried?
No, I can not accept that you are a failure
The words you chose were ever so carefully placed
It should be of no importance whatsoever
If the message conveyed was not to their taste
I am living in the shadow of my potential
I’m in utero but I will be somebody soon
Burst through these rusty pipes that corrode my dreams
And flood the floor of my creative womb
May I suggest that you are already someone
And that each stroke you paint is as desired
From your cold creative heart to your burning hand
It’s no concern of yours if it doesn’t catch fire
Hungry StarsAll the children were eaten by starsMore Like This
The televisions don't work anymore
I saw you dancing in the ruins last night
Barefoot on the sharp stones, laughing
But your laughter rang hollow
And echoed through the caverns
Old blood is never satisfied with new blood
Ring the midnight bell and come home
Your efforts are all in vain, useless now
Like the fly trying to make its way out
Crawling, dying, towards the light
There is no light for the likes of us
Only hungry stars and the glimmer through
The cracks in the boards of the floor
Down there below where the masked ones
Hold their ancient ceremonies and incantations
Let me tend to your feet, love
And we'll seek shelter elsewhere
we're legal murderers.how to love a writer:More Like This
will turn your passion
into works of extended metaphors
for death and decay,
slipping you scars
served sunny-side-up because,
hey, we all want to be
writers want someone, anyone
(usually the wrong one,
because pain sells more than
to try and pour cement
into the dents inside them
until they realize that they're really just
located in the wrong side of town
that cannot be repaired.
that is what we do.
we break people
for a living.
EchoesShe handed me an empty notebookMore Like This
a pill bottle
and a ballpoint pen.
"Here. I can't carry them anymore."
I can still hear her heart beating within them.
Seven Songs of SinAll for one,More Like This
None for all;
Together we stand,
Alone we fall.
Crash and burn for all I care.
It's not me in that mess out there.
Sex and fame and violence await
I will not bow to your horrible fate
As blood is spilt and the famed arise,
I am not sure I can compromise.
This life of lust is too good you see
To fall to your level of pride and agony.
Why can't you solve your own problems?
I do not see
How I can fix your agony.
My mind is great,
But my limbs are tied
To this comfy life of nothing.
The TV is on,
My mind is blank.
For this life of sloth,
I've you to thank.
My power is great.
My money is greater.
For these ways of life know no falter.
Power and wealth is what I seek.
For gold and riches, I will not be weak.
I will get what I want,
You cannot stop me.
For my life of greed is all I will ever need.
Piles and piles and piles of riches
Are piled so high they seem to touch the sky.
All of these things and so much more
Isn't nearly enough of what I'm looking for.
Gluttony is controlli
Of Journeys, UndreamtI swallowed red etch on blackwall,More Like This
stuttered stops and full-moon strophes
between breaths. I never knew in studying
an angel, drowned Andromeda, accursed
beauty (bound for sacrifice)
that I would bleed a misfit
canvas smeared uncolorful dry drawn breathless
ever under water endless
There are galaxies to rent,
galaxies to visit. And those
so beautiful as not to be imagined
distant clouds gathered on the fingertips
they might split you at the nucleus and smile
at what they've made.
with thanks to frost Now with a reading.More Like This
two roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what
.i dream of drowning inMore Like This
lakes, belly up, a petal
shaped bruise of your thumb
on either wrist
i dream that what lays
in my bed is so much
more terrifying than what
lurks underneath it
the boy with twelve bracletsthe cobwebs of your past clingMore Like This
to the inside of your ribcage
and gently strangle your heart.
when i saw you for the first time
i had already known you for weeks,
taken part in your gorgeous
conversations and watched you spread
laughter like a perfect virus
among all the people you met.
you wore twelve bracelets,
six on each wrist;
once upon a time they served
to cover a mistake you made
when you were thirteen,
but it wasn’t a mistake now
so much as a story
about a boy who was brave enough to keep breathing,
and you kept the bracelets just because their memory annoyed you
when you took them off.
that was what you said, anyway.
then i learned how sure you were
that you were only pretending
to be brave.
you wore a mirror as a face,
silver and starlike,
molded to your features and well-rehearsed
in reflecting just what you
knew people wanted to see
and one night,
terrified of seeing nothing but myself
[and greedy to see your face]
i smashed the mirror.
i expected you to scramb
Ice CreamEveryone writes poems about emotions and fearsMore Like This
And one day I said, "I want to write a poem about
About Dilly Bars on the drive from Tucson to Phoenix
The Dairy Queen across the highway from the ostrich farm
With the dust devil's raging by
About soft serve cones at the Desert Museum
Always Twist. Never Vanilla.
On all those hot Saturday afternoons
Watching mountain goats sleep in the shade
A poem about Friday nights after pizza
A different flavor every time
And eating straight from the carton at Dad's
While netflix plays on the wii
And sitting on the rooftop watching the stars
Ice cream bar in hand
About the store by Big Lake
Where I always got the cookie ice cream smash
Ate it on the way back to camp
Every single time.
Gelato at the Stanley Hotel
The worst I've ever had
Talking in hushed voices about ghosts and bravery and
"Oh that's so bogus"
And then there was the Gelato at Parisi's
After a wonderful, stuffing dinner
The mini Ben & Jerry's at Fry's
Don't be boringAMore Like This
makes you wish
you had written it.
restores your faith
...your struggles have made you wisewhen the counsellor tells you your struggles have made you wise...More Like This
ask her how useful the knowledge of how many punches it takes to lay you cold on the floor will be in future. ask her if the endless frost that shivers under your fragile skin is going to turn out handy, a free cooling agent in the heated heights of summer. ask her where she was every morning when you took the pills and crumpled the plastic cup pathetic in your fist. ask her about the taste of toothpaste and bile, how she felt when the dentist marked the progression of decay and solemnly warned you to cut down on sweets. ask her how it feels to keep all those suicides filed away in her desk drawer knowing that they were never ‘wise’ enough to see another way out and through. ask her about the first time she drank until she threw up for hours after she’d become sober again because a boy wouldn’t touch her, or a girl wouldn’t give her a second glance. question everything because there&
AffannatoIf my ribs were weighted keys,More Like This
I'd play you an ocean song that tips you
right off the edge of the earth,
and clinging to my last phrase, you'd say
'what a tragedy, what a helpless dreamer,
such a beautiful pair of lungs gone to the dust'.
And night would hold us in that distant desperation,
playing our heartstrings so we couldn't keep up,
no, not with that soulful, off-tempo portrait
of who we could have let each other become.
I'll crawl back to bed on my bare boned knees
and when I wake to the black holes you've burned
into the sheets you and I were 'us' on,
I'll write you a desert song
about how I jumped off the edge of the earth
and you weren't there.
scheherazadeonMore Like This
'it's all right.
DugabaCreations pawned innovation with a tar stained maul shielding a fulvous core which lies equally underfoot. Acute dinning amid shrills reverberate then recur detailed geography through a skull-plate of dense ivory; As fleshless as the tail of marrow bones. A chamoisee pelt lines the underbelly with soft viable threads; and liver from inner ear to hind quarters. Umber stripes slash across the thin skeletal structure yet, pool at the shoulders where bone blades and spinal ribs protrude and externally protect. Bistre streaks were few but gained volume in bristles at a wide neck junction from the crown to the throat’s rear. Davy grey razors tip every digitigrade toe while the body willfully reclined in watchful foreboding.More Like This
Twenty: I'm afraid I'm growing oldi.More Like This
Coupons and sales magazines
have become more than just junk mail
and the holes in my pants
seem more patchable
and I wonder just how much
my sparse jewelry would fetch
if I said I saw the face of Jesus
in the glimmer of my pearls.
I am beginning to miss the sea I grew up on
so much that I will read bad poetry
just for the mention of a salty ocean breeze.
I feel landlocked and sometimes I'm afraid
that I will never see the world
until I have retired from it.
Faith says her life is full of asking.
I wish mine were full of answers,
but I too have many questions
and only Time will answer them for me.
My mother just turned sixty
and her eyes when she looks at herself
in pictures from the '70s
makes me realize
that my time, however long,
Indulging Idol Syndrome English LyricsWhen I opened up my eyesMore Like This
I found that I was being spoiled
A miracle as it seems
Has been blessed on to me
It’s actually quite easy
To sing somewhat decently
And what I will receive
Is a flock of girls gathered around me
This could be quite nice
Just in a flash
My life has changed so fast!
We’ll call it an idol
We watch the idiot dance
Not realizing it
I just keep on dancing
Filling with greed
I can’t control my laughter
“oh my oh my oh my oh my”
I’m playing life as a game
This is just so exciting
Let’s have a lotta fun!
I’m a pretty awesome dancer
“That guy’s sorta weird, don’t you think?”
I’ll forgive you this time, ‘cause I am Idol
When I opened up my eyes
I found that I was being spoiled
It appears that I have yet to wake
From this continuing dream
It’s actually quite easy
Pretending to be interesting
Liking only certain types of girls
And sleeping around with everybo
Take OneBut a bright, young mindMore Like This
Exploring the world of relationships and
Traversing fields of
Do their dancin' and their prancin'
With no underpants
Hands will be grabbing,
Fishin' and dishin',
Young little minds all
Wishin' or kissin'.
A drugs, a stimulant
It's just too fun
They have another lay
You can't eat just one
The bag becomes stale,
And presence cold
No more three sides,
Sweet, hot or bold
Just an empty bag
Is all that they have
Smothered with crumbs
As it lay by their calves
They've reached their peak,
Now morbidly obese
Pinned under the weight
Of their own
In an instant
Memories begin to flood
Senturies of saturated
With their arms outstretched
As the seam comes undone
And they realize the sign
Saying to just
Warm Bodies (Parody based off RoTG rp)Warm Bodies (Parody based off RoTG shift based rp [MoriXHilary])More Like This
It had been years since Pitch's defeat and no child couldn't be any happier, there was one who was gonna ruin it though, a shape-shifter named Mori was about to ruin it though. Which is why there was a bloodline of shape-shifter fighters, humans that specialized in combating beings like Mori, keeping the world safer. Some was gonna happen soon, the rules would change and it would because of Mori and a woman.
Hilary and her mom moved in to Burgress weeks ago, smiling at thier new home, Hilary's parents were divorced a month ago and her mom wanted to start over again and Burgress was perfect for a lawyer like Mary (Hilary's mother). During that time, Hilary was in high school, became a member of the cheerleader squad and became friends with Jamie and Sophie Bennette. It wasn't until around 9:30 pm that she went out and went after the supposed shape-shifter she saw in months. Just as soon as the beetle transformed into Mori,
How To Write YaoiToday, we're going to show you how to write The Greatest Thing to ever happen evar.More Like This
Yaoi. Since it's a known fact that all female characters are vastly inferior to the male ones, none of them are suitable to be shipped with a male character. In fact, they can all go lez in a corner. No. This is going to be about yaoi. The greatest thing to evar happen evar of all time. Because we could never let a woman soil the true and pure love between a man and another man. And nothing is more sacred than that.
1. Tops and Bottoms As a rule, all yaoi couples must have a certified top and bottom (or uke and seme for you Japan types). NO EXCEPTIONZ1111!! You're either top. Or bottom. Period. The end. No exceptions. That's how all relationships work. And if you're relationship isn't like that, then there's probably something wrong with you. Or you're a woman. Then there's definitely something w
BalloonA blue balloon is tethered to the groundMore Like This
Written on the tether is Fear
It wants to be free, to float away but she's scared
What if she keeps floating forever
What if she pops
What if she deflates
And so she sits tethered thinking
Until a second tether appears
this one bears a name
and it makes her want to cry
Another tether another name
And she's never even met her
So it goes on with three tethers
And sometimes she severs
fear's tether and floats just a little higher
But fear always comes back to tie her down
Time and time pass by
These threaten her
If she leaves so will they
She isn't scared for herself, but she's scared for them
And she's so trapped
I Woke UpI woke up and I was sad.More Like This
I woke up and I was sad.
I didn't know why, or maybe I did.
But nothing could make it go away.
I was frustrated.
I went to the bathroom and locked the door.
I locked the door.
I took apart a razor and collected my tools.
I drew the blades across my skin again,
The deeper I went the better I felt.
I cut myself today.
I cut myself today.
I didn't know why, or maybe I did.
But nothing could make it go away.
HATEI HATE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO MEMore Like This
THE PAIN YOU MADE ME FEEL
WHY CAN'T YOU JUST SIMPLY SEE?
THAT ALL OF THIS IS REAL
BETRAYL, TORMENT I MUST ABIDE
YOUR RULES LIVE THROUGHOUT MY VEINS
THESE LAWS WILL END ONCE YOU HAVE DIED
AND I WILL BE RID OF ALL THIS PAIN
I CAN'T BELIVE I USED TO LOVE YOU
THAT AT ONE POINT I ACTUALLY CARED
NOW ALL THESE EMOTIONS AND GONE AND FLEW
TO THE PLACE THAT WE HAVE DARED
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?
YOU RAN AWAY WITH MY PRIDE
WHY CAN'T WE JUST AGREE?
FOR NOW MY SOUL HAS DIED
I'LL COME BACK
MY PRIDE WILL JOIN ME TOO
I MUST MAKE MY FINAL ATTACK
THE ONE WITHOUT PRIDE IS YOU
HAVE YOU NO SHAME FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE?
THESE WOUNDS WILL NEVER HEAL
DID YOU THINK IT WAS ALL FOR FUN?
WITH HATE THESE WOUNDS WILL SEAL
LOOK AT ME
MAKE SURE THIS IS FOR REAL
FOR ONCE I'M GONE YOU SEE...
YOU FATE WILL BE SEALED
YOU RIPPED OUT MY HEART
YOU JACKED MY PRIDE
A MIRACULOUS FORM OF YOUR DEADLY ART
THESE DEEDS YOU'VE DONE WILL ALL COLLIDE
AND FROM THIS MOMENT ON
YOU WILL BE DRASTICALLY FACED
inshoreNothing but militant unrest and a bruised television echo quantifies these dreams.More Like This
A train-stranded stutter wrecks the lungs
and in negative come dazzled ghost
or maybe the repatriation of a gasoline lake to the lamp glow in the pale fuselage-
all white cathedrals of crack-headed angel mayors flashing on the wall
or dying pine black across the window-
every off-yellow raincoat blooming down the street which isn't a street
every irradiated rumor of space trapped in the pipe-bomb ceiling as I lie and choke on a thickened atmosphere of weaponized shine.
My house is hollow and empty and I beg my body to move
as I become quietly surrounded by eyes.
Loose adaptationprincess stalks,More Like This
and climbs wars to hear his role in sweet cinemax.
What awful comedy,
an ass-bent mock of the king and his daughter.
Like we slaughter a few to save a few million.
'your tunic of maroon, your eyes were plush moons,
Sickle me with your teeth,
you stink of honey and like your tatters were made from wild berry thorns.
comely and sure for wealth,
come by and suckle on my mead,
feel nubile cheeks nibble on nubile cheeks.
I will wait an hour, and then i will change my post,
our window frost tells time
So, come, and come and come.'
and doesn't shut up.
like he needed her to keep talking,
whole stomach linings would come undone,
and the silverware in your chest moves an inch.
I'm one of her rocking horses, living with the wind,
and close with the window,
crumple and decease with her feet over floorboards.
without a rotation and signals beaming,
You can't expect a direct connection
I am the stalker and you are the stalker
Toweri get sickMore Like This
so i draw
it's so sick
i can smell them
like you love
i ended up
only drawing a tower
with a tiny foundation
from which the experts all agreed
on one thing
it was uneven
we were jagged
what's the fool that takes you home?
and who am i to call him one too?
concrete web in a spider's midnight crib,
he crawls pretty close
enough to draw attention
so i can crawl
along the page and mimic the fuck
out of him
like, where are the cables?
where are ..... the fucking parody at?
I miss being drunk
almost as much as i miss being fucked
Big Fish Syndrome.My vainglory-pierced tongue-ideally-in-cheekMore Like This
or up against his:
these are the ways i agree to live if i must string
together nights for which i might plead intoxication if
i had more or less pride.
A mere stutter in an otherwise definitive pontification,
my self-awareness is hardly the rut for which we'd been waiting.
Damn my blood to an eternity of Icarian anticipation,
i have been a fish so swollen by the rest of the pond,
i must eat myself
to keep myself alive.
Myself and i isolate ourselves in a self-imposed Elysium,
in a tug-of-war with complacency. My soul is an island,
my clothes are on the floor, my mind is on his eyes on my door.
i am a mountain who wants and wants to be held
nine hundred miles high;
i am a molehill whose bruised complexion is
a thousand miles shy.
plate tectonicsragnarokMore Like This
sharp disorder in our conceptual kingdoms
as a classless phylum keeps
our biosphere humming
an oh so caustic-sickly-sweet
and no red riding hoods taken
in this incomplete city
by the appetites of wolves
or any other
of a landscape on the evolve
burdocklow to the earth and dreamingMore Like This
of rarefied air
we left all of our poems at home
drunk on ephemera and jellied
alcohol to guide [us]
through the aberrant noise
jailed and there's
a wolf among this congregation
shadows in his eyes
lurching in im-
a malnourished compromise