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HadToday I realized we don't work.Had
I realized if I was an ocean, you wouldn’t be the island. And if you were the wind, I wouldn’t be carried on it. If we happened to be two pieces of a puzzle, I’d probably be an end piece, or a corner, something sharp, and you’d go somewhere in the middle. If I happened to be the beginning of a story, you wouldn’t be the end of it. You’d be something in the center fold, or an aforementioned, a dedication.
Love wasn’t what we had, never even had. Had is too strong a word. To have had something you n
by ~Sydimus
Like Pulling TeethPeople have a certain look when they would say things they didn’t mean. There is a certain way that they gasp and sit back as if their own words had burned their tongues. I liked to think it was like watching a tooth suddenly being pulled. The words would tumble, fall, clamber from their mouths in a rush of hate and then their eyes would pop, their mouths would cave and pucker. Their hard phrases come out with a jerk of invisible string and somewhere a door slams.Like Pulling Teeth
The door was never really there, but in my mind I could hear it slam whenever we spoke. I liked to have a reason for the silence to come so suddenly. Whenever I he
by ~Sydimus
NowhereThere was once a boy I knew who could pull birds from his sleeves. He was no magician, though everyone knew how magic was done, without shoes, quietly, no coat and in open air; he never meant for them to be there. He could be sitting in class, palms up, and in a moment a bird would emerge. They didn’t come cautiously. They slid out, quicker than a breath of air, faster than a heartbeat.Nowhere
You could blink and miss it.
They would peck at his fingers and pull at the frays of his sleeves and leave in a rush of feathers, in a chorus of hollow bones. They came in all colours, from browns to blue, red, white,
by ~Sydimus
Moving on and Moving onSpring comes to chase away the winter and I remember what sunlight feels like. It’s not raw and harsh and barren, it becomes soft, green. On the wind I can smell the earth stirring, and remember what it used to breathe like, sighing slow, and somewhere there is the steady throbbing of my heart beating with its heart and all around there is the thumping of life moving on and moving on and moving on.Moving on and Moving on
Wind was always my favorite quality of spring. It reminds me nothing stays the same. One day I won’t think about you everyday, every time I see the colour blue, every time I try to hold my own hand. Some day that wind w
by ~Sydimus
Favourites
Always ClassyNikolayevich settled into the Throne of the Porcelain Kings, fully prepared to read Garfield and get momentarily furious over how it could possibly still be in publication, as Jim Davis has not actually written a joke since 1983. Abrasive black sharpie caught his eye. Behind the toilet paper dispenser, some intellectual giant had scrawled out what is possibly the most cliched graffito in human history.Always Classy
Here i sit lonely-hearted came to shit but mereley farted
"Deep, bro," he murmured to himself. "Yo, Connelly." "Niko, yer shittin'," a disembodied brogue echoed over the wall of the stall, "I ca
by ~ivannikolayevich
stop ruining autumn.listen:stop ruining autumn.
fall makes me think of leaving and of apple cider, though i never liked apple cider.
but i liked the idea of it.
listen:
two years ago i met a boy as fragile as dead leaves, who called me his little spring girl. (i'd always liked autumn the best.) he kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme.
and oh, by the way, "everything good must come to an end."
listen:
on our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and i drew elephants on them for us to carve. he cut his out so aggressive
by ~estallidos
The Thing About ClichesI. If this were a cliché,The Thing About Cliches
A poem, or both It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.
There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. We’ll throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.
This is not a cliché anymore.
So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.
II. If this were a romance, A message in a bottle, or both It would still be clich&
by ~summernightangel
JanuaryWinter came late that year, catching lazy autumn off guard, burnishing the late harvest grapes into the mellow stain of Brandywine and breathing soft frost into the dreams of sleeping children. It rolled pewter across the sky, chased the moon with chilly fingers and cast long shadows across the ponds, lashings of stripped birch branches rattling windows at midnight, and slipping through casement cracks where it hid in silver fog.January
It swept leaves from silo lofts; muddled tobacco and blackberries, and spangled cobwebbed corners like star
by =Scarlettletters
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: College.
- Interests: Anything that can keep me distracted.
- Favourite movie: Everything is Illuminated, the Batman movies, Disney and Dreamworks shiz, Fight Club... a lot.
- Favourite band or musician: OK GO, Motion City Soundtrack, Iron and Wine, Sufjan Stevens, The Beatles, anything that sounds good
- Favourite genre of music: Anything almost. Hate country, though... and rap.
- Favourite artist: Oldie: Chagall Newie: A lot of people on DA.
- Favourite poet or writer: Love Gaiman, Vonnegut, Prattchet, Jonathan Foer. He's STUNNING.... waaaay too many to put in he
- Shell of choice: ... That's not Kosher, man.
- Skin of choice: Chocolate flavored.
- Favourite game: Love the Zelda games... sometimes FF.
- Favourite gaming platform: Anything with a good game to play.
- Favourite cartoon character: Bloo and Cheese... and... a lot.
- Personal Quote: "People farting NEVER quits being hilarious."
- Tools of the Trade: Um... word documents and little squares of texts.
- AIM: padfootblack42
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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join #ALLourLOVE a gay, straight, and anywhere in between alliance
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join #ALLourLOVE a gay, straight, and anywhere in between alliance
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join #ALLourLOVE a gay, straight, and anywhere in between alliance
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"Hey miss sobriety, do you remember me or how to say my name?
Do you remember when we were friends, all the way back then?
One mans trash, is another mans treasure.
One mans pain, is another mans pleasure."
-Miss Sobriety by Cute is What We Aim for.
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