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sacrifices.hello world,sacrifices. by RighttotheCore
i was diagnosed with depression at the young age of nine. and the day i saved my first writing piece of your not-so-presumptuous cat and dog story was november eighteenth, two thousand and two. my writing was of the astronomy of our stars that we see after the sunset falls to create a pool of blackness. every word was strung together, even back then when i was "happy". but maybe i was wrong, maybe i wasn't so happy after all. maybe i was just a broken adolescent waiting for her chance to escape from a living hell. and so when i read of the stars not making my wishes come true, i began to believe that everything wasn't true. i lost trust in everyone and everything, really. i grew weaker each day as my bones lost the calcium they needed. i would not show my face to this cold-hearted universe for it had shattered each part of me i knew and loved, into so many pieces i could never begin to pick up. i was supposed to be a straight-a student, a genius who played mozart on the pi
five haiku. little heart.everyone called me crazyfive haiku. little heart. by RighttotheCore
because i thought you were beautiful.
and sometimes i believed i was.
you ripped out my heart
like it was a clean sock
from the drawer by your bed.
and you told me the truth
like you bought chocolate hearts;
so when her world crashed,
the scars became suddenly visible.
and you wouldn't believe how badly
she wanted to burn the east coast.
you can catch me,i'm the girl whose smile is believed each and every day.you can catch me, by RighttotheCore
even though it takes all i've got to not break
at the sound of your voice, or the look on your face.
optimistic depression.i. when i see something i want moreoptimistic depression. by RighttotheCore
than to be a bird, i go for it. i'll walk, not
fly to the destination, and make the most
of it. i live out my dreams.
ii. people tell me i'm absolutely stunning,
beautiful, and all that bull shit. but i don't
see it. i see something no one would call
breathtaking. i see a monster mirror reflection.
ii. i love watching the eyeliner and mascara
run down my face in globs of goop as i cry
a million crystal clear tears. if you'd see my
eyes after i burst into tears, they're like
a million dollars in the love bank.
tears are my obsession.
iv. my pens are dried from all the ink
being slapped down on the blue lines
on the beautiful white paper. and now,
i resort to those amazing things called
permanent sharpies. i'm a writer.
v. my moods change faster than the
temperature you feel on your bare feet
in the winter. one moment i'm happy,
the next i just want to crawl into my
closet and cry. diagnosed low-dose bipolar.
The LetterHello.The Letter by Seireihime
You've probably never heard of me, nor would you recognize me if we, say, bumped into each other on the street one day. But maybe you know me. Maybe.
It's fine if you don't, though, because I don't even know myself anymore.
Anyway, I want to let you know that I still remember you. And it may sound strange, considering that I might be a perfect stranger to you, but it's always the broken little bits and pieces that come back to me from time to time. Retrospect through a microscope.
I remember your stubborn pout and eyes full of wonder and innocence at the world around you. Long and awkward limbs, but damn, did you run fast. I remember your freckled cheeks and flyaway hair the colour of sunsets. I also remember how you hated them because the other kids teased you, and so you tried to hide them with your mother's makeup and a bad attempt at cutting your own hair. You wore hats to school for an entire month.
I remember the time you danced through the rain in your best dress, pretend
Restless"It's a bit like electric jolts running through your veins, with no way to escape because you've turned your skin to rubber."Restless by Wynt-rs
"This feeling. The one in the air, you can taste it, like the copper taste of blood without the salty effect. Can't you smell the burning rubber, elastic bands snapping under the force and letting gears run free through your hollowed out bones?"
"All I smell is chicken burning because you've left it in the oven too long."
"Right! It's just like that! It feels like you're being cooked and someone should have turned the oven off an hour ago but they didn't, just like they left the tap running in the upstairs bathroom. The water has no choice but to flow over the edges of the porcelin tub and gingerly explore the expanse of tiled flooring, uncertain what to do with itself except that it has to move."
"So what you're saying is that not only have you ruined dinner, but you've flooded the bathroom?"
"And I left the stereo on in my room, so the rythmi
Candy DreamsGot a bad case of the could've beensCandy Dreams by PrometheanDesire
Shoulda beens, woulda beens.
They been bumpin' round in my mind.
About them days gone by.
Hopin' and prayin' for what I thought shoulda woulda coulda been mine.
And I been noticing the girls walkin' by,
Walkin' by my slumped, distorted form.
Flouncin' past in their bubblegum skirts
And their lollipop shoes
Hair in a sleek, sexy, hip do'
And sometimes I'll get a bad case of the coulda beens, shoulda beens, woulda beens.
Cuz I'm only 23;
But I feel like I might've passed Methuselah a few miles back on this road.
I know bubblegum skirts and lollipop shoes are all them girls be,
And I wouldn't be caught dead in em'
But I'm still just a girl.
A girl that left death bleedin' by Methuselah those few miles back.
And stared survival in the face,
And decided she was gonna blow right past;
Straight to thrivin' instead.
But I'm still 23,
And sometimes I wish I coulda been all bubblegum skirts and lollipop shoes,
And tinker-toy-boy toys.
But that just ain't me.
For Clare and HenryFor Clare and Henry,For Clare and Henry by luthien-soroniel
Your story spoke to my heart, lifted me up. Thank you for letting me share your lives, watching your swirl of a timeline unfold. I stand at my window, waiting. Waiting for what? I am not married to a time traveler. But sometimes I feel that way. I wait for Bryce. I reach out in the night to feel empty sheets and a cold pillow. I ached inside as you waited, Clare. I shivered in the cold, willing myself back to the present with you Henry. I saw Alba through an artist's eyes. I saw my life and each moment I let slide past me without notice through the eyes of someone cast about in time, like a ship in a storm with no rudder. Each moment to you was precious, Henry. Thank you for teaching me that. Your love of books; and your shared status of coffee-fiend mirrors my own self. Roaring with Alba, I am a coffee-fiend too! You shared with me literary, musical, theatrical experiences of a high connoisseur. You added at least ten pages to my reading list.
• written or spoken language in its ordinary form, without metrical structure : a short story in prose | [as adj. ] a prose passage.
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ramble and feint//ramble and feint by Rasphelion
flashes of lightning in the distance,
a mirror of the interior of this bowed head,
Shuttered explosions of light throwing up shadows on my front lawn; a light splashed frontal lobe.
my neural pathways are an orgy of confusion.
I just can't think straight anymore,
my thoughts are caroming like mating hummingbirds,
settle on that singularity for 3-5 seconds,
and then I am onto the next brilliantly flocked plumage.
I am a promise with mere seconds of actuality.
Your sweetened aural expulsions are swinging from my earlobes,
Errant little bastards dangling from the chains and skipping on the monkey bars,
... you are hardly worth understanding ...
I can hardly remember your sweet nothings,
this distance has become a ravenous beast,
and every second is another chance for it to pick our remnants from its' teeth,
for you; I would fight gravity,
but I find myself sliding down its' gaping maw,
rolling amidst tastebuds,
Life Is SacredLife is sacredLife Is Sacred by KasaiRennette
When life is taken knowingly
The taker is punished
If not in this life, then the next
If life is taken willingly and knowingly for a cause
The crime is understood by the gods and goddesses
And the criminal is forgiven
If a life is sacrificed for a better life for others
The gods and goddesses recognize true selflessness
And the victim is granted a place of honor
If the life is taken unwillingly or unknowingly
The gods and goddesses are angry
And will punish with death's fear
Life is rare
Life is sacred
Life is difficult
Death is too easy
Death is like sleeping
Death is peaceful
Immortality is life without living
Immortality is death without dying
Immortality is and isn't
Life is sacred
Highway 75.The air tastes different when I don'tHighway 75. by sirenseranade11
have to breathe through the panic,
through the stress, and the paper cuts
begin to heal when the trees are green
and I can move past goose bumps and
tired skin. Winter feels like a distant lie
someone told me when I was young and
the season is a wet blur of green and
brown and concrete. But I am soaring
and I am sleeping, and she is two
thousands miles away, watching as I flee,
as I fade.
She holds the sun in her fingertips, and
the warmth here dulls in comparison to
the thought of her touch, her glow. I've
lived my life in small intervals between
Cajun DreamIn youth I found my dreamCajun Dream by Allyrah
A glorious Cajun man
Free as a flowing stream
He is where it all began
One of those golden days
On the bayou he stole my heart
He lit it all ablaze
That was when this all did start
He was like music to my ears
To my lungs he was like air
He was the light that fought my fears
"I'll always love you, cher"
But with a man as free
Just as the wildest stream
I knew we would never be
But I'll always have my Cajun dream
poetry |ˈpōətrē; ˈpōitrē|
• literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature : he is chiefly famous for his love poetry.
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Character - NewlywedsHe gestures to the unadorned apartment door with a smile, “May I, Mrs. Sarah Orcken?” She performs a small, unpracticed curtsy in return, her white bridal dress crinkling softly at the hems.Character - Newlyweds by Cobrateen
“If you would, Mr. Jorden Orcken.” He walks to stand beside her, bends to sweep her into his arms and with some effort picks her up off the floor. “Although technically, I don't claim your name until we get the papers back.”
“Details.” He takes a few staggering steps back toward the door, “Could you get the door Mrs. Sarah Orcken?”
“They still don't make these things with pockets Mr. Jorden Orcken. My keys are in my purse, which is back in the car.” She reaches down to start rifling though the pockets of his tuxedo, “Where's your keys?”
“On the dashboard, next to my wallet.”
She stops searching with a sigh, then abruptly tickles him until he sets her down, “We are asking for that car to be stolen,
BlackIt began in the quietest hours of the night. Granny was snoring up a storm, her bed creaking with each breath and twitch of her bigness. That's always the first thing I remember, thinking back. She always snored in the same way Pappy revved up the engines of his prized Cadillac. Loud, proud, and never ending.Black by MadHat11D6
I s'pose I should start with what happened before hand. Nothing will make sense if I don't. It don't make no sense anyhow, but the story won't be right if I don't start before everything got bad.
So we were in the market, Granny and I. We go every Sunday while my parents and siblings are at praise and worship with most of the rest of the town. We get all the best stuff that way without havin to elbow our way through the hordes of people doin their last minute shoppin for Sunday dinner. Granny always said that the best book couldn't keep her from making Sunday dinner, and no man in the sky gonna keep her from her shoppin.
"Jerry, you got them apples for me?" Grann
Copy. Paste. Erase.He thought it to be quite sad, the fact that all of the corporations and financial institutions of the world lived in a state of perpetual denial. 'We at ________ enterprises/company/corporation are very much aware of the responsibility that comes with the kind of work and risks we take in the name of science and development. In order to ensure your utmost safety as well as to safeguard our own databases, we take pride in the fact that we are equipped with state of the art __________......'Copy. Paste. Erase. by kiwi2191
His patience would run out well before the spokesman would be done with his speech. He knew for a fact that stealing information and technology from premier institutions was one of the most simplest things to do. Well, at least for him it was - which was why on a dull Saturday evening, instead of chilling with his friends at Fred's, he was trekking his way through the surprisingly densely populated woods at the outskirts of the city.
The research facility of Bionet, that recent brain child of Stanle