Will live a life of crime that not even the law can end. Will spend the rest of our life's in the road,running from this dark world. Our journey will bring a burden to the people who don't want to let reality go but joy to the people who do.Ill show you a life without reality...
I have always written down my thoughts for as long as I can remember it makes me feel calm and helps me in my life I suppose it is all to do with letting of steam and letting go of things. One thing is for certain it is one of the things in my life that I could not imagine not...
I needed to get away.
So I started walking.
I did not know where I was going.
Several days later, I was hopelessly lost.
I saw a man at a booth marked 'INFORMATION'.
I said, "I am a lost soul"
He pointed to the ground and said, "Down there is where you belong."
"But I've just...
The book weighs me down. It presses against my stomach till my ribs show through my paper skin. The book takes my mind. My consciousness is never here, it is forever occupied. The book makes me hollow. My eyes are dull and busy, there is no life-no sign. The...
The air feels calm.
The gentle breeze like a caress on her cheek.
Water tastes more refreshing.
Music sounds better.
Words have more meaning.
The sunrise is welcoming and beautiful.
Food tastes better.
A heart so full it's about to burst.
A smile so big it hurts.
I write, certainly. The problem is that what I write disgusts me. Disgust is not a strong enough word, actually, more like I loathe the words on the page with every fiber of my being.
I look down at a poem I have written and there are a thousand tiny little voices telling me...
actually been expecting. That they all lived together in a house, earning money by flying dragons in contests? That would might have been a ridicolous thought, but at least, she had not expected this either.
In Shia's hometown they had a small school, with a few people, but this...
I'm a ******* mess.
You'll tell me I'm beautiful,
I'll dedicate my life to proving you blind.
I'll cry my eyes out on the toilet seat
Talking to an imaginary therapist
I ******* talk to myself, man!
And then laugh at a joke from two years ago.
I'm obsessed with...
Shia tried to open the eyes. But she couldn't. She sat up, and with an automatic movement, she rose her arm to start rubbing her face, and found that that too was absolutely coveret in what seemed to be hardened mud.
”Here!” She heard a girls voice say. Next second, ice cold...
Who watched them?
Only the birds glanced upon them not knowing what they saw.
On the soft morning air music drifted quietly into the peace of their still place.
Their place, a spot by his river.
Trees stood like still sentinels, surrounding the lovers.
Sunshine, gentle, not...
Writing. Every week, I sit down Monday, write 10 pages, and submit them Monday night, and do no writing during the week. I've been getting lukewarm evaluations. It just occurred to me that maybe if I write over the course of the entire week, I'll be able to crank out a...
Outside she covers herself in thorn and thistle.
Tough and strong.
It protects the fragile truth within,
Just beyond the hard exterior lies a thin glass-blown heart covered with delicate cracks, long ago sealed and forever forgotten in a fortress of...
How could I ever
begin to explain
the spontaneous laughter
or when the tears fall like rain
What else could you do
but just walk away
when I want to tell you
but there's nothing to say
* so I cry or I laugh with no reason or rhyme
I spend thoughtless silence...
Dora swallowed whole, by spoonfuls her horrid bowl of gelatinous oatmeal. She gave herself a canker sore by poking the roof of her mouth with a dry, blackened piece of toast and further aggravated it by slamming her glass of acidic orange juice...
Standing on the hilltop Anna could see all the way down to the tiny black shack. Dark smoke chugged from the chimney. Someone was there. Anna crouched down in the tall weeds and waited until there was a sign that the little cabin was empty. ...
Really drunk, field trip-style drunk.
Mixing vodka and wine drunk.
I came home and cried to my mother about you for the first time in years.
I told her how you gave me a kind look the other day
and it reduced me to crying and singing along to Barry Manilow.
I told her how you...
his shallow grave face
with its half buried flickers of fury
gives way to the lesser demon's like smiles
while he suffers the hopeless romance
of a cute girl who wants to lick
his carved biceps like a neo-glitter kitty kat
he cringes all over with the...
face him. Her pretty face was regaining its normal look of defiance. She sat on the bed and crossed her legs.
"I didn't tell you to sit", he said quietly.
She began a retort, but looked at his face and thought better of it. Something was there that she hadn't seen before. She...
Like many other late night prose, this story ends with me sitting propped up against my headboard illuminated by only the artificial glow of my IPad. However, it began with the glow of a different light.
This day passed along much like all the rest of the days in my world. As I...
Arms empty and cold.
Surrounded by darkness.
Auburn hair wild and tossed by the biting wind.
Shoulders tight and aching.
Head heavy and full of questions.
Mouth dry and thirsty.
Legs weak and shaky.
Lips down turned.
Cheeks wet with tears.
Clothes covered in dirt and stained...
I use writing as my stress relief. I write poems according to how I fell especially when I'm upset about something. It's how I get stuff off my chest that I can't say out loud. It's easier for me to lay my feelings on paper then it is for me to speak them. Honestly I think that's...
her cheek blurred as salt filled tears fall soaking one spot on her silky blouse that made her a lady. Her neck and chest flushed by the heat of emotion as desperation bellows from her core.
Slouched like a child in a large brown arm chair, she gazes off lost in a familiar...
and literature since I was young. I needed something to pass the time so I sat at my desk one day and just wrote. It turned into a long term hobby and is something I'll always hold close to my heart. Writing is something I do for myself but also for other people because I know...
The forest is so mysterious at night, particularly this time of year, when the mists roll in. It crawls through the shadows, like a living portal to places unknown – even seeming to breathe, as she flows with the still-cool currents of early spring. She is whispering to me...
christian boy. Always taught to treat women like the princesses they are. He knew he was lucky. Dad was a powerful, imposing man, but he was confident in himself, so much so that he allowed his vulnerability to be seen.
He danced with his little girl at Father Daughter dances...
I think what hurts the most ..
Is when you give your all ..
To someone ..
Through thick ..
Through thin ..
Through big ..
Thought small ..
Thought hard ..
Through easy ..
Through the day ..
Through the night ..
You're there for them ..
You stick with them ..
No matter what...
romance novel to see if I could and guess what I can but I'm awful at it! Haha it is so sappy I'm getting diabetes from it. So badly done I could poop my pants from laughter. Delete. Well I'll show my friends and then delete.
I'm not a very romantic or erotic person so yeah the...
Bodies passing by in a rush. Standing still, her softly curled red hair tossed by the wind. Her green eyes watching as everyone passes by in a blur. Some may notice her, but she only sees a passing blur of color and pays no mind.
Thoughts of her childhood and that corridor she...
I have loved you; it seems, since the beginning of time – so deeply it feels impossible to have begun with my relatively insignificant life. My longing burns when we are apart and consumes when we are together. The more I have of you, the more I want of you, until all that is...
I’m sorry I left you behind but I grow and grow. So quick my hands cannot keep up, they drag behind. My palms collect dust and my nails leave trails in the dirt. Long zig-zagged memories embedded in the ground I tread each day. for I have not forgotten the tools they once...
I came out of the milk-house wearing a old coat with strips of bright red material pinned (with big, yellow ducky diaper pins) to the hand-me-down, mismatched buttoned coat. The red is to protect me from deer hunters should I get out near the big woods...
If you are like me, you want your life to mean something more than an accumulation of days and nights passing in a melancholy blur of mundane tasks that include nothing more meaningful than the biological performance of breathing in and out. If you are like me, you want more, you...
The weary sun this day does not rise
as the earth is rent in twain
by a booming blare spawned from a sickly horn.
Ragged hands wrapped in beads of Rosary
scrape their way up the fleshy earth.
A man near the opened earth, of no religion does he ascribe
who days ago did laugh...
and poetry. again. in my defence, I've never claimed to be an artist.]
There aren't a lot of ways to say what I want to say.
(Possibly because it's been said so many times.)
But my heart is an almost broken lamp,
flickering through the night.
Allow me this mad dance once again...
she pushes forcefully, fracturing her soles with the momentous friction. Her strength is not hers. Naught but a psuedo-strength manufactured by the concrete below her. I watch her as she attempts to walk a few steps from my front porch to the car. I look away, my tears are...
I just want to be close and hold tight
All you do, is all I need and if it's good for you its good for me, so hold tight
Don't turn away in fear, in this time and in this space, keep us here and hold tight
A tender moment lost in bunches of passionate kisses and light touches...
floating down from the trees.
They covered the ground like snow.
The sun peeking through the branches as it began it's descent. Painting the sky with orange and pink.
The green grass soft under her feet, slowly covered in a purple blanket of flowers.
Her hands out stretched to...
a book. I've been looking for people that have a passion for writing and that are just starting—like me. The goal would be to work with a group of awesome writers in which the object would be to get a good promotion, recognition. I don't mean necessarily working on the same...
and create the bones of a story for their book, and get credits not as a writer, but co-creator or co-author, you know, like a how a script has a person who writes the main story line and another person who writes the actual script. I write novels myself, but sometimes I get...
something, what makes me feel better about it is making a plan to fix the problem. It’s all I need to feel completely better. Landon needs, rather than a logical response, an emotional one. When he’s upset it is important-not to come up with a solution, but to affirm his...
It’s so very odd hearing the people in the room next to me chattering. These strangers speaking as if they were old friends, as if a connection of some odd kind actually existed between them. They chortle and chuckle, smile and smirk, how very odd indeed! They offer up the...
Those who took hot lunch and those of us who took cold lunch apparently required segregation. The furthest table from the hot lunch service counter, the one under the drafty old basement windows, the table that was older and ...
I love to write ... anywhere ... anytime ... I have even gone as far as to ask if anyone has a pen whilst being in a Queue.
Post it notes... receipts ... envelopes.
Crayons... charcoal ... anything.
When the mood stri