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Basic journeySo I was at my college school and all was well until two men starting firing guns on students. Or at least they were until right after two secret agents showed up and began to put a stop to them. Oddly enough, time was reversed back to when all was well and then instead of firing guns the two men were tossing small rocks, pebbles really, into the air that would kill or wound people if they were hit by them. I tried to engage one of the men, but they took me down and I had to flee. Before escaping with other people, I grabbed my phone and my sweater knowing the journey would be long. We all walked in a line as the men, who had increased from two to perhaps a hundred, were five to ten paces right behind us. I tried running, as did others, but our bodies as well as the crazed men’s bodies were weak and we had to walk most of the time which lead to one of us being caught and killed every so often. However, I discovered that I could run “backwards”, with my back turned whe
Simple desires.Yes, I love to see you after I open my eyes.
Yes, your smile warms my heart.
Yes, my hand firmly grasps yours.
Yes, our lips are an inch from a kiss.
Yes, we walk at our casual pace.
Yes, make small talk throughout the day.
Yes, drawn out stares into each other's eyes.
Yes, pecking lips in public; romancing kisses in private.
Yes, separate ways to fulfill personal duties.
Yes, trust for another rarely fleeting.
Yes, surprise gifts.
Yes, blissful trips.
Yet no, dark days ever near.
Yes, strength is within.
No, patience worn thin.
No, unpleasant rest.
No, weeping noons.
And yes, full of delight.
Yes, two-way boon.
Yes, we will fight and I can see you getting more furious with me as I make a common mistake even though I have all the right to call you out on your defaults in equal complaint for these many days of our time together as our bond becomes ever more tense with each troubling day ahead to come or so we can only assume AND-
I LOVE YOU.
Diminished Part two. bPedestrians begin to fill the streets as the city awakens. Nigel pulls up to a four way stop in 'ole Carl just as the traffic light flashes red. With his typical cheerful expression, he takes a deep breath of air only to trigger a few rough coughs. Even with how often he comes into this city, it is easy to forget about all of the odd mixtures of scents that existed here and much of it being pollution. The area also is pretty rundown, holding only remnants of how successful it had once been. Although the majority of the city is in poor condition and some locations are in ruin, there is the well-known, multi-million dollar company Wohlstand that resides in the northwestern part of the city. Their main line of work is with chemicals and are joint to one of two hospitals here, that is the one hospital that is still being used of course.
The traffic light switches to green and 'ole Carl carries Nigel forward. He drives for a few blocks more before turning into a street littered with many st
Diminished. Part One. bAll in one.
A simple multipurpose tool
Just shy of perfection by one flaw.
Six o'clock in the morning, on the dot. Flinging the covers aside with great enthusiasm and a huge grin to match it, Nigel was ready for another day. Leaping to his feet and then striking a pose with both arms above his head flexing and a "oh yeah" was the next step in starting off the day. Nigel had a healthy vibe about him and he made sure to begin with a positive attitude if he wanted similar results for himself. After going through the rest of his morning duties, which consisted of stretches and exercise, breakfast, dressing, and then taking time to tidy up the small room, in that order, Nigel grabbed a leather strap on the bottom middle part of one of the walls and hoisted it up.
He was in a storage unit, among many others. The whole area was filled with numerous piles of metal and debris everywhere. Such areas were used to dispose of scrap parts. This was Nigel's domain. He enjoyed tinkering with bits and
T.o.m.b 1aMany strange and wondrous things exist in this world. There's nature that has its magical ways of growth and secrets. There is also mankind with its work in the sciences and advancements as a race. Both have their devastating sides as well. Volcanoes, earthquakes, and hurricanes for nature to name a few; guns, missiles, and nuclear warheads for humans are commonly known about. However, I feel most are easily forgetful of one power we humans have that is constantly abused for good and evil each day.
The power of words.
A chilled Sunday morning. Finely packed snow covered the city as it continued to shower down. It was the first week of January. Littered on most sidewalks and curbs were the homeless accompanied by trash and debris. One couldn't go more than two blocks without passing by a man or woman huddled for warmth from the harsh element of winder or enough garbage to satisfy three or more dumpsters.
What a mess.
A man dressed in a mix of rags and scraps lied up against one side of
Sanity is for chumps.Do you ever just..
A gentle breeze can set just the right mood for a summer day as it cools
one's skin off with this Sun's rays heating it in equal competition.
Too cold? Grab a pullover.
Warmer than you wanted it to be? Take it off then.
An easily adaptable circumstance in most cases, especially when there are
not multiple bullets missing your body by mere millimeters and you can't
spare a second to wipe the sweat off your brow as you are dashing for near
Do you ever just..
It is a wonder how the world operates currently. In one location a Saudi
Arabian man barely gets through his day with the ragged clothes he wears,
a mind focused mainly on surviving the next night, an empty stomach, and a
Heineken bottle cap in his left pocket from last week. In another area there
is a Caucasian man who sits in his cubicle on the twenty-third floor, one
leg over the other, biting the eraser end of his pencil as he debates in
his head over whether he should go out with his buddies late
Empty skies.You are a bird.
It doesn't matter what kind of bird so long as it isn't a flightless one. (Ostrich, chicken, etcetera)
Each day you wake with one main goal: to fly high and fly even higher than yesterday. Everyone else is a bird with the same idea in mind. And in order to fly higher than normal, you need to find and share special and unique feathers that are hidden around the world to add to your wings. Not all these feathers are good and some can only be used once one is ready for them. (Based on strength, wit, achievements, you name it)
Now imagine that you were born with a birth defect in your wings, making it tougher for you to fly. You find plenty of feathers, but the majority you add and test out don't go well with your wings and cause you to crash back to earth time and time again. You don't know why that is because you subconsciously forget this disability of yours with so much going on in the world around you only to remember it again later, and strive to do better. Some days
This child's words.Dear parents,
Do you remember those days when I wasn't acting my cheery self?
Those moments when my expression is one similar to sulking or simply sad?
A night when I look like I've "lost my best friend"?
Have you considered it to be depression? Not because I was disappointed about something or someone insulted me. A depression that has been around far before anyone would have noticed and not triggered by outside forces.
This is my depression.
A constant influence that lingers just outside the naked eye's perception. Most days it hides away inside my mind, or heart (wherever you believe it would reside), calm and non-threatening. And then it erupts to the surface without even a split second of warning. The best worldly example I have for it is a tsunami, except you only know of its presence once you are struck by it. And you know there is no repelling or escaping it. You must wait for the water level to descend and then continue on with your days. Unlike a tsunami though, it isn't as c
Four in the morning with sighs and fear.You know, I really wish I had a more concerning and comprehendible problem, or so I believe people would find more worth their time. I wish I had severely broken a bone or had immense brain damage or even just couldn't read well because of dyslexia. But no, I simply have depression with a side of anxiety. And to top it off every night I fear that regret will resurface. Even during the day it pays unannounced visits. I can't just take anti-depressants or anxiety pills, talk to a counselor, or express my feelings through a positive activity. I've moved past the milligrams of medicine, the talks, and the fulfillment is never there even with things I like to do. My joys are dwindling; my bonds becoming unstable with others. I don't believe in myself anymore. Yet, I will wake the next day and continue to live because life is linear and consistent.
I want to forget. I can't forgive myself.
I want to forget what it was like to love someone else.
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
Felicity.I want to love, to kiss, to hold thee.
On days I feel alone, choices made to flee,
I trust you will find me. To play glorious
melodies for you and I be honored by your
own talents. Soothing nights spent lying down
together, surrounded by silence as your
delicate touch accepts offered command over
Pain and misfortune pay their visits and our
bonds reach their limits or worse, are torn
asunder. However, precious time is spent to
mend wounds and produce new ties after the
results from tragedies.
Laughter turns to tears.
Running, then standing still.
I desire all that comes from you and you wish
to receive everything I give.
And those three silly words, they shall
continuously pass between us each and every day.
Being in your presence will satisfy the senses:
-Eyes I gaze into till my own grow weary.
-Taste of your lips, pecking them here and there,
until they are numb (nevertheless, they always beg
for another second longer).
-Speaking and listening, in tune with our idle
chat at all
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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