LoveMore Like This
Love is nothing,
Without a kiss.
Love is everything,
When you feel like this.
Love is precious,
When they mean everything to you.
Love is painful,
When they're not with you.
Love is priceless,
The true kind can't be bought.
Love is life...
When it's all you've got.
bleh...tell me how you like it...o.o;
-Keys to the Heart-She has five keys,More Like This
One tied to each belt loop of her jeans,
Not telling anyone what they are for.
She keeps four hearts,
Their plastic shell hiding something in their depths,
But she does not tell what they hide.
None have unlocked the hearts,
No one has dared to try,
And they gather dust as they wait to be unlocked.
A rude male comes to her,
Grabs a key and tries to unlock one of the four hearts,
But all he finds is a little slip of paper that says . . .
Fragile yet sturdy,
Time goes by and she is now a girl of ten,
Full of dreams and wishes,
With three hearts remaining.
A gentle boy her age takes another key,
Grabs a light blue heart and inserts the key,
Finding a small chocolate kiss and a slip of paper that reads . . .
If you find,
More time goes by and the girl is now thirteen,
Her favorite number,
With two hearts remaining.
A bright girl gingerly takes a heart and picks a key,
Sticks the key into the lock and turns it,
As rose petals drift out and a slip of paper re
vampire's fateMore Like This
Луна неподвижно висела в небе, серебристым светом освещая все вокруг. Иногда ее скрывали тучи, и когда они уплывали, становилось как будто светлее с каждым разом. Белос
'A'a IIHopesMore Like This
The little things
oh for heaven's sake
Will they remain when I wake
My heart cracks
all hope scatters
is this a nightmare
is this real life
who can really say
my source of
both love and strife
Im not strong enough
I must learn
that it isn't too late
'A'a ILife's tragedy unfurlsMore Like This
Before my eyes
and my own fate is
up to chance
up to circumstance
both in and out of my control
My soul traded
faith in humanity jaded
but at least my heart
My future bright
Only If I can
survive the night
RisenMy loveMore Like This
I long for your flesh
And for that warm sweet red
As I rise up
From these lands of the dead
These rigors of mortis
Have kept us apart
But know I've always
Been after your heart
Out of Reachout of reachMore Like This
are my dreams
Life without worry
Life without pain
No fight for selfish gain
Is that too much
is that too great
to hope for the sands to
pass without strain
for now I wait
left to contemplate
if I'm still sane
Or if life's inane
but I must still cling
til the day I meet my maker
to all I have to hold onto
my heart and where it lies
that till i reach
seek only to antagonize
WeltschmerzThis worldMore Like This
I feel its weight upon my shoulders
Its a wonder anyone can stand
The burden life brings
The sands of time
Grind against my very soul
leaving me to plead and despair,
If only I were stronger
If only I could stand
But every time I look up
I see yet another grain of sand
My heart in time
Will be all that remains
Trapped in a world weary shell
With everyone's losses and gains
The only smile left to me is with the rose
My only dream Is all that
Can withstand this despair
but can I survive to see it through?
This world is unbearable
Every time I seek success
I have to see another point regress
to the point I am left with nought but ash.
But to that I feel the only joy I know anymore
Without which I could not hope to thrive at all
I grow tired of this world in its infinite cruelty
But I can never tire of my muse
And only that I remain
Only We Understand Each Other PoemMore Like This
Our words, our thoughts
No ever listens to what we say
You, the strong and violent one, yet misunderstood and gentle
I, the mocked and the foul one
We found each other
Others see it forbidden
We see it as fate
They try to separate us
But we always find our way to each other
Our hearts connect to one another
Yet they still see you as the monster
If I don't stay by your side
Your heart will vanish
We never part from each others arms
They'll never understand
We Understand Each Other
Shy roseShy roseMore Like This
Hidden in the floral masses
Petals of white, turned
Crimson by lover's gaze
Self doubting though she surpasses
The beauty of those around, taken and returned
Her eyes as piercing as her thorns
Her presence concealed by the garden's maze
Yet to bloom
Yet to realize dawn and pierce the gloom
I wait with her
Unto the day she is ready,
Ready to be plucked from the garden
Ready to join me, as we explore life's maze
A letter to my loveMy dear Shy RoseMore Like This
I still remember the day
The day I first laid eyes upon you
Hidden amongst the floral masses
Closed and afraid
I couldn't take my eyes away
Even now I cannot bear to do so
Others have come and gone
Passing by and plucking away at others
Petals litter the ground and yet
There you remain
As I still remain
I feel the sands of time
Slowly passing by
I feel myself wither
I couldn't be more alive
For I have found something
Unlike anything else in this world
I am mortal
But my love for you is immortal.
You told me one day
And so I await it
The day we can
Finally venture down that road
Onto a bright future
Others would be filled with doubt
Yet my faith is complete
Although I fear
Although I am weak
I stand strong for you
And long for the day you may be
Plucked from your home
And journey along side me
And while my mortality may wane
My love for you is immortal
I had almost forgotten it
There were simpler times where
I knew it well
The Real WritersThe Real Writers:More Like This
There are those who sit with their laptops and tablets,
Clothed in a scarf and an artistic hat of some sort.
They ponder; leaving a stack of books beside them,
Sipping their decaf as though they are literature personified.
What works do they prepare, other than blatant copies,
Perhaps a half-baked romance designed to woo a lady.
So convinced are they, of their own aptitude;
They are blinded by the beams of their burgeoning ego.
For the writer is not the man who is tapping away at keys,
He is not the man fervently reading with lensless glasses.
He is not the hipster debating ancient literature.
For he is a monster, wearing human skin.
He is the deranged madman, eccentric, uncanny.
He is the one who sits catatonic;
An entire world of fantasy playing in his mind.
He has gone through millions of scenes,
Thousands of scenarios, hundreds of plots
And dozens of characters.
He is not the man you expect him to be,
For a true writer is utterly WEIRD.
These Hands Are So Red...These Hands Are So Red...More Like This
These hands are now red and so slicked with this blood,
I can't even wash it in a basin of mud...
As I scrape at the skin of those demons I chase,
I am left with a smile mixed with pain on my face.
Since I swore I would savour this blatant disgrace,
Let perversion be writ in these scars I will trace.
From the tip of my shoulders to the base of my tongue,
Are the names of those sleepers so cold and so young...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 15th March 2013
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.
i'm not an artistwe do not belong in boxesMore Like This
and bags and books or
and we do not sit contently
in wordsworth and shakespeare
and blake, burns, and brownings
or in the cold stiff bones
of raleigh's of long ago;
detect, and re-select
a virus--a disease,
a germ in every verse and line;
the first signs of
foolish waitings under
bridges and scolding parents
and nothing to signify at all
we are the blood of nations
and the heart of men
and the love of every
rhetorist and sentimist
we dance through the ballrooms of
the age and chat with
we shake hands with heros
and the homeless, dirty
type that gum over 'hello's
we are and aren't and will be
silly verse and
naive philosophers and sweet oxymorons
waving hello from the shore;
forever onward and never ending
like the stars in an
To The Beautiful YouTo The Beautiful You:More Like This
Here we are, sitting behind these screens of glass,
Reading lines of text, yet smiling, laughing and crying.
It's strange to think that I could have this much fun -
Considering that I've never met you before, but then again
Perhaps that's the reason why I don't have to pretend.
Some people might tell me, that what we have is just a fantasy,
I doubt I'll have the chance to actually see you in this life-time.
But even so, in the time that we've spent together - Well,
I feel as though I've connected with you, more than anyone else.
I feel as though I know you better, than those just a few feet away.
You might take this little confession as something silly,
Maybe you'll even forget about it as time passes,
But I for one could never forget about someone like you,
And so I'd like to dedicate this piece, to the beautiful you.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th December 2012
Trauma Drama "STRIDER, I WANT YOU TO HELP ME IN UNDERSTANDING YOUR FEEBLE HUMAN WAYS OF THE SCRAPS OF EARTH LIFE YOU HAVE LEFT."More Like This
Dave didn't move from his seat. Neither did he cast a glance at the impatient troll. He continued scribbling lyrics of rap on the blank piece of paper, all in hopes that Karkat would be irritated with his ignorant attitude and leave him alone.
Well, five seconds of silence was a miracle until all hope was lost.
"STRIDER, ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME? OR ARE YOUR EARS FULLY COVERED IN GREASY SLIME OF WAX?" Huffing annoyingly, Karkat poked Dave's shoulder. Not a single reaction was given, though Karkat wouldn't be surprised. This wouldn't be the first time he got ignored by Dave-fucking-Strider. "STRIDER, AS MUCH AS I HATE TO ADMIT THIS, BUT I REALLY DO NEED ASSISTANCE IN UNDERSTANDING THIS FUCKING PARTICULAR SUBJECT."
"Dude go away I'm busy doing serious stuff." Finally Dave gave a reaction, voice obviously not amused with Karkat's unneeded interruption. Arms cros
I Can't Devour You, Not YetI Can't Devour You, Not Yet:More Like This
I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.
Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...
Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!
Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crumble in the heart of the fire -
& body be turned to dust and ash...
If only for the chance to feast once more!
Ah, my dear - I will have you.
& on that day it will be so sweet.
But for now - I'm afraid that -
I must leave this as a mere - tantalizing - fantasy...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 12th December 2012
Practice Poem - Poor Little TimmyPractice Poem - Poor Little Timmy:More Like This
Down into well, poor Timmy fell,
Down he fell into the pits of hell.
Brought into hell by an eldritch spell,
Poor little Timmy who fell down the well.
Alone he cowered and shivered and shook,
He shook for hours, so long it took,
So long it took for him to feel well,
Well enough to explore this hell...
Through pathways littered with scenes most gory;
Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story,
A story of fear and suffering defined,
Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time...
Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyMore Like This
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
Apologies to a friendYou pour your heart out to me,More Like This
and are willing
to submerge me
in an ocean
yet when I see the water
rushing towards me,
I convince myself
I don't like
the dead and the dyingthe funny thing aboutMore Like This
humans is that
we think we are
invincible and immortal
a tainted world
where cars drive
too damn fast.
i just try to
get by without
more than once.
How To Show A Girl She Can Love HerselfWhen you see her cryMore Like This
you get a rag,
a gentle delicate clothe
lovingly grasp her hand
and dab its tip
to dry each tear as they come
and ask each drop
why it'd leave
such beautiful eyes.
If she wishes
to be in the sky
Tell her to go
Take the sun ransom
And replace it in the sky
So you can see her every morning
and plead for her
To return each night.
When you see her scars
gently like you might
caress the broken wing
Of a dove
and remind her
that for every hurt
that she's survived
has only made her
that much more unique
that much stronger.
Show her that she is worthy of love
That she deserves the love
she fears to give...
show her so that
one day after you're
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.More Like This
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
ProcrastinationMirror, mirror, on the wall.More Like This
Life takes its course,
And death, its toll.
Rise up stars
To watch them fall.
And await the answer
To their call.
It’s all fun and games
Til someone gets hurt.
Money and fame,
Lost in the dirt.
Take care of your esteem,
Reputation and wealth.
But no matter the money,
You can never buy health.
Maybe then you’ll see
Who you could’ve been
On a throne of gold
A beauty queen.
Living your life
Like the wispy light
Of a dying candle
On a windy night.
Your time is short,
Your life is shorter,
Tying its knots
On the lesson they taught her
In a simple dictate:
“You don’t have the time
I Am a GirlI am a girl, therefore I'm worthless.More Like This
I am a disappointment to my parents.
I am a thing to be sold for profit.
I am property to a stranger.
I am a body used for the pleasure of men.
I am a slave to my promised husband.
These are the only things I'm allowed to say.
If I say anything else I will be punished.
I shall face a punishment.
Several that no one should be allowed to face.
I fear all of it.
But sadly, it would be nothing new.
I shall be punished for simply taking a breath.
I wish to take my final one.
I "belong" in the kitchen, after all.
I have possession of the knife.
This decision shall finally be mine.
My fear melts away, and my neck turns cold.
I shall take my freedom...
Yes, I have taken it.
However, it was not by means of bloodshed.
It was not by means of "relief."
It was by means of struggle.
It was by by means of the impossible.
No longer shall I hide my face behind blu
Start the ExperimentMama?! I called out as my small paws raced down the leaf ridden path. My voice croaked and my body ached all over. I had forgotten how long exactly I was running for, or what I was running from for that matter. But what I remembered was my distressed mother rushing me off away from the den site, telling me to run as far away as I could. And thats what I did, but I didnt expect my mother not to have come after me already after so long.More Like This
Finally my short puppy limps couldnt take it any longer; I leaned against a large boulder and panted heavily. I was trying desperately to catch my breath when the leaves behind me rustled making me jump. I shot around to see a familiar grey muzzle stick its self out of a bush. I could tell it was my mother from the wolfs familiar warm smell. And once the female dragged the rest of her body out of the bush she dropped to the ground immediately. I went over and nudged at her
Two sidesTwo girls.More Like This
Are you confused?
Haha you should be.
You see I have another personality.
It helps as a disguise for school.
But sometimes it happens at home too.
She used to be my friend.
She protected me,
am I crazy yet?
Hahah I should be.
I'm to scared of life.
So she comes and helps me.
She will hold my hand and make me smile.
She got into a fight with my friend though.
She hates my friend.
I don't know why.
Is it bad that I can't control myself?
My friends all know about her.
They know that I'm probably Bi polar.
They still stick around.
Are they crazy?
It used to be me and her.
Then a friend came along and made me smile.
Now I as I write this I am myself.
But as I go to school I am her.
Is it better to be me?
A scaredy cat.
I choose two lives.
So hopefully one day.
She will just calm down.
Hahaha Am I crazy?
For writing this?
But what is crazier?
Writing a fantasy?
Or writing the truth?
Thirty Three Percent"What are you doing?"More Like This
"I think I finally figured out percentages."
"We learnt those in the third grade."
"Yeah, but we always complained that we'd never use them in real life."
"And you know how to use them in real life now?"
"Eighty four percent."
"That's the percentage of how many basketball matches you lost to me when we were kids."
"That's not fair! You're taller than me!"
"Fifty two percent."
"Is that how much taller than me you are?"
"No. That's the percentage of times you speak out of turn and get into trouble for it."
"Twenty three percent."
"Let me guess, that's how much I annoy you?"
"That's the percentage of times your mother told you she loved you when you were a child instead of the amount she should have."
"Seventy nine percent."
"I don't think I like this game anymore."
"That's how much of your heart loved that guy who broke it so completely callously."
"Look, I'm serious. Stop."
"That's how sure you a
Stronger than SuicideYou are so much stronger than suicide.More Like This
You are so much more powerful than the cuts on your arm,
And so much better than your eating disorder.
So much more than your scars.
Please look me in the eyes,
And show me your wounds,
Whether they be on your forearm,
Or your heart.
Have you been skipping meals?
Have you been cutting?
Well, here’s something for you to try.
Think one thing,
Just one thing,
Just remember to prove to the world,
Are stronger than
Hard TimesI see you’ve been weeping for some time nowMore Like This
You’re all torn out and cold
Even if all you see is darkness
You’re the bit of light that’s shining
And I know you don’t have control
But you can't just let go
Because if one day you do, you might lose yourself
Then I’ll be left alone, with no one to hold.
We Were SoldiersYou'll never hear me say that there's glory in war.More Like This
It is ugly, it is painful, it is frightening...
But I know, in my heart;
Deep within this soul born of freedom.
That what I do, at times, is a necessity.
It is nerve-wracking, most days,
Knowing that when you wake up you may not make it home.
But still I am proud,
Because of what I have managed to achieve.
And tonight; I hope that you're proud of me,
Because I'm sending a hundred of my boys home.
I just wish that I was joining them this time...
Love as an AsthmaticI snatch my breath after we kissMore Like This
because I want to feel you
in my wheezing, useless lungs
not just a craving
a desperate need
in the physical urge
to breathe you in,
make your mystical secrets
a part of my body.
The Book ThiefSometimes when I wander by,More Like This
I see this stranger,
as snowflakes fly,
reading and not seeming to be in any danger
I catch a glimpse of his book,
it's so brown,
probably with a good hook,
and I gently sit down
He still doesn't look at me,
it's "The Book Thief",
I smile and let him be,
and begin to feel grief,
Because I know that book,
it's so sad,
when he finally gives me a look,
I know he doesn't find it bad
That's why I smile,
and he begins to talk,
we sit there for a while,
and later begin to walk
He with a long winter coat,
and the brown book in his hands,
me as I float,
above the snowy land
can bring you together,
without arranging any meeting,
books are forever
infinite/opposite.being an adult means knowingMore Like This
that there are things much scarier
than spiders, or snakes, or clowns.
the ocean, for one.
losing your parents.
empty tequila bottles.
waking up, still reaching
for someone who left you
a long time ago.
i live like there’s an end for me
because there is.
plants will wilt.
forests will burn down.
eventually, even the stars will burn out.
people will come to us.
they will touch us. they will hurt us.
they may keep us. they may not.
but i never hold on too tight
because when it’s time, my time,
i’ll only be letting go.
the heart has valves
that constantly open and close
giving love, taking love.
and my best advice
is to be selfish.
know when you’ve had enough.
know when you deserve better.
close the valves and
keep some love for yourself.
know that you are perfect
even if you eat that second cheeseburger
because there’s magic in this world.
we’re proof of it.
is fear o
Smile, DarlingHey there.More Like This
Yes, you over there.
Has anyone told you lately that you look great?
Yes, with your morning hair. Your “chopstick” limbs. Those things you call fat. Your skin with all the blemishes which make you shine brighter. Your eyes which shine like the stars.
I want to say that you look beautiful, and that you shouldn’t worry about what you look like.
What do you mean you’re a terrible person?
Oh, is it because of the intense jealousy for those who have things you don’t have?
Or maybe because you feel immensely insecure of your wonderful self? Or maybe because you take out that anger and sadness on something? Or is it because you’ve only been getting negative feedback from others? Is it because you can’t fulfill your own duties?
Here’s one thing I should tell you, darling.
Put down that blade.
Throw those pills down the sink.
Drop that bottle of liquor you’ve got there.
Let those tears fall.
I Don't Want To Say I Love YouI don't want to say "I love you",More Like This
Because my words will make it real
Make my love for you actual
Palpable and ,worst of all, breakable.
My love would manifest itself
Like a sheet of glass between us
That you could shatter with
The slightest touch.
I don't want to say "I love you",
Because those words don't show
The truth to you
They don't show how important
You truly are to me
That I want to wake up every day
And fall asleep every night
With you by my side .
I don't want to say "I love you",
Because you might return
the same words to me.
And we would love together
Our hearts growing as one
But tragedy might strike
And you might be taken from me
Leaving me with half a heart
And no one say those three words to.
I don't want to say "I love you"
Because I do
I love you more than life itself
And that scares me.
But I'll say it
Because no matter how large my fears
Or small my worries
I want you to know
That "I love you".
Good enoughYou’ll never be good enough to beat that person in video games.More Like This
Nor that online player who claims they're the best.
You’ll never be good enough to earn that pay raise at work.
Nor become employee of the month.
You’ll never be good enough to be the strongest and smartest in class.
Nor get the best grades.
You’ll never be good enough to be a model.
Nor have the body you've always wanted.
You’ll never be good enough to walk away from that fight.
Nor be able to fight back.
You’ll never be good enough to hold back your emotions.
Nor always be the best friend.
You’ll never be good enough to always do the right thing.
Nor make the right choices.
You’ll never be good enough to make that person love you.
Nor always be loved.
You’ll never be good enough to make it somewhere.
Nor ever be noticed.
But you can damn well try.
DieDie:More Like This
Such a simple word, spewed without thought.
"I wish you'd die, I wish you'd be killed."
But what if we actually gave meaning to those words?
Can you understand the emotion, the magnitude, the weight,
Of actually seeing the life of an individual depart?
Can you look them in the eyes, as they bleed into your hands;
Observing their final moments, as the light fades from their eyes?
Or are you simply a soft-hearted coward,
Sitting fat behind a computer, wishing death upon others?
To say that one is deserving of death,
Suggests that you are ready to kill.
And if indeed you are ready to kill,
Then you too must be prepared to die.
"Now please, stop those tears my good man, we've only removed three of your toes so far (^_^)"
-Chen Yuan Wen, 9th July 2013
Magpie On The GallowsMore Like This
Written by: CliveBarker
Magpie on the Gallows
High above my head,
Tell me truly, maggot–pie,
Is my lover dead?
When he went away to war,
To me eternal love he swore
Tell me truly, bird of gloom,
Where his bed and what his doom?
From the gallows hear the magpie screech:
From now on your lover’s out of reach.
In a bed of mud he died
Soldiers slept at either side,
He has never been faithless dear,
And never will be now, I fear.
Magpie on the Gallows
Feathered white and black,
My brother went a–hunting
Will he not come back?
He was tall and he was strong,
Face was fair and limb was long.
Tell me truly, maggot–pie,
Did he live or did he die?
From the gallows hear the magpie scream
Now your brother is left alone to dream.
There’s no need for you to fret
He’s still fair to look at yet,
He lay in the snow to doze,
And while he slept the poor lad froze.
Magpie on the gallows
Where the death–rope creaks,
Why is it th
146 poundsmy mother tells me that i should be ashamedMore Like This
for dipping my baby carrots in salad dressing,
that my food doesn't need the salt i sprinkle on it.
my afternoon tea doesn't need any sugar, skip
the lemonade and drink the water instead.
do you really need that?
her sharp tone echoes like military orders in the face of combat.
she tells me that at my age, her jean size was half of mine
and i resist the urge to tell her that maybe that means she
had half the character i do.
shopping with her, she butts heads with a body-image complex,
telling me to quit fooling myself and pick the next size up.
i shock her time and time again when i cram my corners into
every article of clothing i selected on my own.
how will you ever get married?
& i wish i could tell her how boys have seen me naked
in the emotional sense of the word, how they have found
truth and honor ready to burst from my so-called "fat rolls."
she will never know that i am a garden with an unlocked gate
and that each o
It Was A DayIt was a day a little bit like todayMore Like This
the way the clouds threw shadows over the hill
the day you realized that you weren’t going to find your future.
You were never going to go to Mars
You were never going to open the door that led, inexorably, to Narnia
(or even Telmar, you weren’t picky, and you were confident of your ability
to lead the revolution.)
Inigo Montoya was not going to slap you on the back
and invite you to take up the mantle of the Dread Pirate Roberts.
There would be no sardonic Vulcans or Andorians;
you would never be handed an elegant weapon for a more civilized age.
That was a strange day.
It ranked up there with the day that you realized that everybody else saw the you in the mirror, not the you inside your head. Not the you that was lean and tough and clever, not the you with perfect hair and a resonant voice that never said “Um….?”
Not that you.
No, they got the one that was fat and wobbly and stiff inside with
damn that woman"You don't get it, do you? I'm dating your goddamn production, apparently!" She is a whirlwind of impeccably dressed, green-eyed fury. She is Juliet Smith, one of the most prominent artists of the twenty-first century, and she is tearing up their apartment and his emotional stability all at once.More Like This
She looks good, she always does. But standing in the doorway of their apartment in her trench coat God damn, she's never been so gorgeous. Anger does something to her, and he hates himself for loving it so much.
She watches him for a moment, looks him up and down clinically, likely trying to decide why he isn't begging.
"Where are you going?" he asks, finally.
"I don't know, and I sure as hell won't be telling you," she says calmly. "I'm going anywhere I goddamn please. I always planned to travel, and I never did, because I was so fucking happy with you." She pauses and the green of her eyes intensifies further. "So that's what I'm going to do now. Travel and make art. Maybe I'll
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
Bucketsi.More Like This
before I'm 30
I want to die
to be buried
even with the decorations
& bodily equations
laid out over my skin
like tapestries of
to have "Edge" read
by a woman who leapt
over the edge of sanity
but held out her hand
to help me across the
to leave my body
to the science of
& all the crows that
followed me from
home to home,
never asking why.
before I'm 30
I want to not die
to lick the condensation
from the window
of my life
& see the world clearly
for the first time,
to be reborn
to hear a song
that tastes better than
& all the time I've spent
milling around inside
from winter to winter,
checking for ghosts
to taste the sugar
of the promised
& feel every inch
of my past slipping
into a darker hole
than I've ever
to truly live.
Some General Grammar RulesWhen I’m reading fanfiction, whether I’m beta reading or just going through something for leisure, I see a lot of the same mistakes time and again. I thought to help out, I’d list a few of the more common rules I see people having trouble with.More Like This
These rules are for English because that’s the only language I speak. Please understand that this is American English. The rules may differ slightly if you're using British English. When editing, I use the Chicago Manual of Style. It is the resource the publishing industry uses most often. If you don’t agree with the rules and want to do something else, that’s your prerogative. The hubby still refuses to put only one space at the end of a sentence. However, when I beta read for you, this is what I will use. I’m most familiar with Skyrim, so most of my references in this article involve the game.
I will be adding to these rules from time to time, so be sure to check back. If yo
Sleep Child.Sleep childMore Like This
Pretend the carousel of life doesn't make you queasy
Dance in the spider webs they ensnare you within
To eventually drain you.
Entangle the strings attached to your body and soul
Let them try to solve the knots and tangles
Slip away when cut.
Let your silent cries call out to Heaven above
Deafen the devils and the tormentors of Hell
Even though you're mute.
Make them pay and make them all bleed out
Shroud them in spider webs and their dangling threads
Then go to sleep.
Jukebox Cafe A string of bells jingled obnoxiously against glass as Hugh entered the Jukebox Café. The first thing he noticed was the pepless fan rotating just enough to move hot air and the smell of grease from one side of the restaurant to the other. No one came for the food, or at least that’s what he assumed upon sight of the sticky red tablecloths and French fries that speckled the checkered floor. That and the fact that he was the only soul in sight.More Like This
He walked up to the bar and squinted at a sign asking customers to “Please seat yourself or ring for service.” What kind of café required its customers to ring a bell for service? Not sure if there was an employee in the place, he rang it despite the sheen applied by dirty hands, and the shrill sound barely cut through an old tune produced by the jukebox in the corner.
storiesi begin and end with storiesMore Like This
where hummingbird hearts play sonatas
against my ribs and i drown in
early morning light and
the girl in me sinks into the sea
like rusting anchors chained to
ships and i sway port and starboard
the lion in me rises like lazarus
from the savannah where dust swirls
and i begin and end with stories
where i swallow the world and all
the rain and girls and lions in it
where i hold it up like atlas,
where i support jupiter with just
an index finger and where i chase
comets and cup them like fireflies
to hang on my bedroom walls
A Little Bit of WonderlandHer name was Alyssa, and when she was nine, her mother built her Wonderland. After being raised on a healthy diet of Charles Dickens, Enid Blyton and J.M. Barrie, it seemed like the natural course of action. She created it out of paper, each scene indispensably, indisputably perfect in its imperfection.More Like This
And she did it because Alyssa was terrified of the idea of falling through a rabbit hole, into a place that allows magic only when you are confused. Mothers do the most impractical, exhausting things to show how much they love their children. It seemed a pity that it was this very effort that kept Alyssa up all night, staring at the paper people like they were coming to get her.
(If Alyssa’s mother knew, she would have spent all her time trying to explain to the little girl that it wasn’t just paper people she should be afraid of.)
God appeared to have a sense of humour when little Alice became Alyssa’s best friend. She lives across the street, her hair always
Star-SentOnce there was a girl who was in love with the night sky.More Like This
She had visited planetariums and read children's books on astronomy. She had learned to identify nineteen different constellations and would always look for them on dark, clear nights. She had gotten her father to stick glow-in-the-dark stars and planets to her bedroom ceiling. She had eaten freeze-dried astronaut ice cream and thought it tasted better than anything else in the world.
As time passed the girl began to learn about the universe, about things like asteroids and black holes. Little by little she came to know the invisible forces that governed outer space, and the night sky became more than just a sky to her. It was a giant treasure box, filled with the secrets of the places beyond earth.
The girl's love slowly turned to longing. She wanted to know the stars through more than just pictures and models, because deep down she believed that there was something in the universe she couldn't find on her own planet. The thoug
The MonstersThe monsters were neverMore Like This
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.
I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me.
Two Years LaterShe asked him gently, “Do you love me?”More Like This
In his long silence, she found closure,
And left her love under a willow tree.
The pianoThe soft touch of your fingers on the piano.More Like This
As the notes you strike turn into music
telling the stories of the unlikely and the impossible.
Dreams about lands far away.
Each chord leading me farther astray.
Each bar setting fire to the frozen lakes of my soul.
Melting away the once eternal ice.
Awaking feelings so long beyond my reach.
The air of melancholy that fills the room.
A genesis started by the gentle push of the keys.
Creating this amazing new world of ideas.
Until you stop and everything falls back into place.
Alice in WonderlandMore Like This
She sits by the window
Head in hand
Lost in her mystic
Where fairies fly free
Across the sky
And a beanstalk stretches
A million feet high
In a world where true love
Is a wish a way
She likes to laugh
And play all day
For when she's gone
She cannot feel
The tears and pain
She must conceal
One slipper safe
One slipper gone
Among these tales
She can belong
In a world apart
To hope and dream
To sing and dance
To smile and scheme
But she must forget
For she is grown
The beautiful things
She once had known
Dull and seem to fade away
She can no longer sing and laugh and play
Now comes a time
To read and write
And the curse of age
She cannot fight
But when the lights
Are cool and dim
And the sky is fringed
With a starry trim
She sits by the window
Head in hand
Lost in her mystic
The DoctorWhen I was seven, I was diagnosed with emotions.More Like This
"Poor girl." I heard them say. "She'll never survive this one."
I laid with my face towards the ceiling on the cold examination table, listening to them discuss my fate. I felt something breaking in my chest and something burning inside my throat. A small tear slipped down my cheek.
"Doctor! Look at this!" Shrieked my mother, "Something is coming out of her eye."
The doctor rushed over to me and wiped the tear from my cheek. He touched the top of my head as he whispered, "I am so sorry." And then he turned to my mother. "It's a tear. It means that she is sad."
"Sad?" My mother asked inquisitively.
"It's one of her emotions. This doesn't attack the same way that normal diseases do, there are all sorts of different symptoms. Right now, she is sad and the only way that I know how to explain it is that she is feeling down."
"What do you mean by down?"
"Her emotions can best be described as ones that are upwhen she is feeling good, and