sense of me
I've always the quite one. The weirdo you've never notice but scence I've learn how to focus. I've realize why I shut myself up. I have too big of a mouth and too much love to burn out. I've seen it all before. I guess I was that girl. So what if I just sat quietly and not speak to anyone who approached me. you'd never notice the pain behind that smile. It's burned out….burned out. Crowed my head again. All I can do is hurt over and over. I'm hurting u, myself and him. la la la la la la la. This morning I told myself I could change but all I ever do if screw it up. Maybe this time, oh wait today but I can't I have failed u again and again. I just can't shut my big mouth. Words come out like knifes that scar u and leave you with the pain of guilty lies. I'm drowning in blood. Too much emotions going through my heart. Pain, love, guilt… and lots of other things. Too much overwhelming me. I'll be the girl who cries herself to sleep at night rethinking these memories. I've always been the
pre-apocalyptic response/logi don't understand the sentimental value of these arrangements,More Like This
we are foreign even to each other,
although i try to fit into your skin
suffocatingly synthetic slimy heavy and
tadpoles blasting out of my throat,
as far apart as planets can be
and you are not the world but a world and even then
black hole of a raindrop
as we all are when/(unless) we begin; i am making sounds
ending this on a flat d-drone; you see how hard it is for me
to understand mechanics; adream in
uncircumcised unsubsidized grea
.he stood on the shore,More Like This
and told the sea he loved her;
the jealous wind tore his
voice in two
hyenas make the best lovers.i need to stop lookingMore Like This
for death in every body
my fingers touch.
i have been force fed
old lovers, & slices
of the moons lying dust
i am messy poems;
i am fractured confessions.
i am laughter
my jaws ache
with the taste of
i am still hungry.
give me your sugar;
I will share my breath.
you are still made of starstuff,
& i am no longer caged.
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?More Like This
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
You said....You told me “friends forever”,More Like This
More like ‘friends for now’,
As your sweet promises
Were just lies I allowed.
You said “we are best friends”,
More like ‘friends at best’,
As your solid affirmations
Were all digressed.
You told me “I need you”
More like ‘you need me’
As your statements
Were my last plea.
Why did you go?
Why did you leave?
I’m left here all alone
Trying, in us, to believe.
Still BeautifulA woman with a penisMore Like This
Is still a woman
And she is still beautiful.
A man with a vagina
Is still a man
And he is still beautiful.
Two men or women in love
Are still in love
And that love is still beautiful.
A person who is agender
Is still a person
And that person is still beautiful.
A human who is 'different'
Is still a human
And that human is still beautiful.
I Apologize For My ArtI apologize for my poetryMore Like This
For its utter lack of sincerity
For taking and stating views
That no one even asked of me
That ,though my words try their hardest
That they'll never understand
The pain they try to express...
The feelings they make bland
Through my attempts to describe
The tears that I'll never cry,
The small fears placed
Upon the wings of flies
In the hope they can be swatted away.
I apologize for my poetry
For its utter inability
To protect you from its own fallacies.
I apologize for my art
For its utter lack of heart
It asks for to believe in it
Begs for you to love its message
And offers to comfort you
And advise you on damage
It could never truly know,
And for that I apologize.
But I won't apologize for trying...
I won't apologize for trying to understand
For trying to transcribe their ink dripped hearts.
I won't apologize for trying
To use my words to try
And empathize with that young girl
With bottle of pills
Trying to think a reason not t
Ode to SoulsMore Like This
our society is built on the binary of proper lines.
spotless, picturesque, sanitary lives trailing cycle upon cycle of symmetry.
yet we function better without framed order.
we have wanderlust built into our core; we bleed out the seasons when it suits us.
our lives are made of tire treds feeding the clouded sunset, skies pouring violently over
ravenous hearts seeking catharsis.
the nyctophiliac, the heliophiliac.
the nemophilist, the pluviophile.
if we breathed in your blank normalcy, we'd crumble and die.
The Arkham Mentality - 1The night air felt heavy, oppressive. It left one with a feeling of uncertainty for what could be around a dark corner at any given time. Very few of Gotham's night owls ignored this sensation, believing it to be a normal thing in this city. And maybe it was, but one vigilante still felt the need to keep watch of the quiet streets.More Like This
As the night wore on though, the Dark Knight began to grow weary. Maybe it was just another still evening for Gotham, maybe he could go home and rest. But as he considered this, gunshots broke the stillness.
Inching forward, Batman crouched low on the empty stone pedestal. A gargoyle had once sat here, but had been removed after being severely damaged by a rampant villain. As he reached the edge, he pushed down on a button hidden on his right wrist. The sound of metal cutting the air briefly followed, accompanied by the subtle rustle of stretching cloth, and he lurched back slightly. Getting used to the new Bat-glider would take some time.
The design had see
An Unlikely EncounterAn Unlikely EncounterMore Like This
It was hot.
It was really hot.
I woke up this morning, my hair sticking to my face, my body trapped in a cocoon of bed sheets I'd created in my sleep.
I could hear sirens blaring in the distance, the sound of angry caffeine-deprived drivers shouting obscenities greeted me; Just another annoying day in Gotham City.
I spared a glance at the clock. Sigh, I'm late again.
I wonder if today I can manage to find the energy to care. . .
Didn't think so.
It took me ten more minutes of coaxing my body to move for me to succeed in getting out of bed.
"Hey Katherine! You want an omelette or some pancakes?" called my roommate, Roxanne from the kitchen. God bless that woman.
"How about both?" I yelled back, sleep evident in my voice.
I crawled to the bathroom to take a shower, removing an article of clothing with every step. I avoided looking in the mirror as I always do. No need to work myself up this early in my routine.
I adjusted the temperature of the water to how I liked
Realm of Ender: Chapter 2: A Dark Presence 2/2Realm of EnderMore Like This
Note: The characters in this story are depicted in anthro format, specifically the style of Theoretical-Chaos on Deaviantart. This story will also be told in several perspectives, but will be in mine for a majority. I will make sure to make transitions when the perspective changes.
"Hey guys! I'm back, and with some friends!"
Scootaloo led Fluttershy and I to a small encampment. Two tents and a small fire in-between them. After Scootaloo called herself out, Rainbow Dash came out of one of the tents. "Hey Scoots, who'd you- Fluttershy!" She says as she runs over and hugs Fluttershy, who hugs back in response. It was then that I see Orin crawling out of RD's tent. He is a red stallion with brown hair. He is a skilled survivalist, capable of handling himself in most dangerous situations.
Orin grinned when he noticed me and Fluttershy. "Well, well. Look who the Changelings brought in." He said as he walked toward us. "Seems we weren't the only people
Trigun: Stampede RunMore Like This
Post-manga; contains spoilers.
I do not own Trigun / Vash or Livio. They belong to the amazing Yasuhiro Nightow.
Year 150 month 9 day 16
Livio stood by the Sheriff's office in December in the last light of the setting suns, glaring at the wanted poster still proclaiming a price on the head of Vash the Stampede.
Some nut was running around the outskirts of town, claiming he was the humanoid typhoon. Livio knew the real Vash would never stoop to highway robbery. He'd been hunting said nut, wanting to clear Vash's name, but he kept being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Today had been another long, frustrating day of not finding the nuisance. Perhaps he was merely growing too old to be effective. His rapid aging had stopped when he no longer used the medical vials from the Eye of Michael, but that didn't prevent the natural march of the years from leaving their traces on his body.
35 years had passed since he fought Crimson Nails, since the day that