Poetry, Short Stories or Whatever

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

I wrote two poems, I'm not good at them but I tried. lol

His problems
By Brandon

I sit there reading what he needed to say
His problem was worse because he was gay
Knowing this could end good or bad
I could tell in his words his life was sad

I tried to comfort him telling him it was okay
I told him people face this problem everyday
He told me no, that his life was a mistake
He said I have no damn friends for christs sake.

He cried every night wishing there was no pain
I told him you're not alone, cause I did the same
He told me he had no one in his life to love
I said yes there is he's right up above

He said he had to go saying goodnight
I told him not to give up this fight
He left offline I should of done something
But it's my fault cause I sat there and did nothing

---------------------------------

Empty Bed
By Brandon

My body sits down on an empty bed
A tear drops down my eye
It lands on my arm, another slides down
Are these tears of joy?
No, it's the tears of pain, the tears of loneliness

Why every time I look back it's empty?
The dreams of waking up
beside somebody weren't real
Hearing a distance voice made by my mind
They said "Good morning sunshine"

But that was a voice made up by my own mind
The bed I sleep in, die in is going to be the bed
I wake up alone in.
But I think no matter how much I sit on my bed
It's going to be so empty, just like I said.

OMG those poems are sooo awesoem they made me cry!:thumbsup:

[Brandon]

OMG those poems are sooo awesoem they made me cry!:thumbsup:

Thank you, the second poem had a lot more feeling than the 1st.

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

poem i just wrote:

I lick up the blood from my fingers
why is it dripping from my body like sweat?
dripping red droplets, soak in my clothes.
What is happening, i know not yet.
Sweeter than honey, filling as fat.
Dehydrated from loss of fluid.
I won't give up this bloody bath.
Why change when this feels so good?
I bite again at my fingertips.
And lick up the blood.

[Half-Light]

i guess my story i posted on here wasnt read or wasnt liked lol...well you cant win them all...

[aprilblue426]

lol i read it, just didnt have time to comment on it right away...i like it, your style's unique. it kinda reminds me of this one episode of the twilight zone with "mr. death"...but nevermind. ppl just tend to comment about the most recent things, that's all. im sure others read it too.
u got me hooked on that story, angelonfire. i'll b checking back here if u post any more.
and brandon, LOVE the poems! 'specially the "empty bed" one. hope to see more!
this thread will NEVER die!!!

[aprilblue426]

btw, that first part was for u, halflight:icon_redf (trying reeeaaallly hard not to feel like a retard right now...)

[Steam Giant]

Phew! It took me a while, but I caught myself up here! And wow! You all should be very proud of yourselves! Very, very awesome stuff! Half-Light, that story was good! I want to see more, hehe! I have to know what happens next!

There are too many works above for me to comment on each one of them individually, espeicially because I'm a bit hyper right now (really need to go on a walk or something), but they were all very good! You guys rock!

[Steam Giant]

I wrote a few poems while in the hospital. Just an advanced warning, for those I haven't told yet, I suck at poetry. But, these were the only real way I could capture my mood at the time, so here are a couple:

Hell

It's raining blood
Onto a carpet of slippery flesh
Exposed, twisted, broken bones
Stained, dry, towering overhead
Fields of rolling mounds of carrion
Insects swarm
Choking all breath
Coating the ulcers below
In the distance, a horizon of fire
I have arrived
I smile

Tapestry of Misery

Marred. Marked. Scarred.
Paraded before the world.
Scabbed. Scraped. Stabbed.
I am a tapestry of misery.

On display from day to day
I bear the marks of my disarray
As they stare, I try to be fair
But do they see me or my despair?

Am I judged by these marks I wear?
Do they think me a cutter, or do they even care?
I look away to silence the glare
Fearful of their thoughts, it's too much to bear.

[24601]

I wrote a few poems while in the hospital. Just an advanced warning, for those I haven't told yet, I suck at poetry. But, these were the only real way I could capture my mood at the time, so here are a couple:

How can you say those are bad, dude. Those poems were incredible. Such powerful emotion and imagery. Your first one, especially. I could see what you were describing, and feel the agony of the eternal torment. The almost sadistic twist at the end was great, too. I could totally related to the second one. It was almost like a window into your mind. You give yourself far too little credit.

[Half-Light]

i wrote a second part to the story...i was going to have a friend read it, but they are too busy. i wanted to know his opinion first. i guess i might as well post it anyway...

[Half-Light]

The scene was in the old man’s house. Yes, I warned him of his death. He needed to prepare. Its only my duty to tell those wretched souls who walk upon this earth when they are going to die. At first I despised the job, but after awhile I took a rather funny satisfaction in seeing the horror on the victims’ faces. I wasn’t the one taking their lives. Therefore, I wasn’t the one to blame when it came time for the officials to find that there were people dying with no explanation.
The bodies would be found lying on the floor with a seal inscribed in there skull. This was the seal of Azriel. If the victims were smart enough to heed my warning they could prevent the branding of death. That’s why I seep into their lives and slowly feed them information as they slowly feed information to me. That way both sides win. But no, they never figure it out. If I told them it would ruin the surprise! I never came across a sensible at the time of Mr. Perry’s death. All the victims were too ignorant. The thought actually made me quite upset. I spent months upon months with the victims and time after time I talked to them. Did our chats and talks mean nothing?

*

I entered my mortal home. The space wasn’t elaborate or immaculate, but it worked for my purpose here on earth. Some might think a special tasked would deserve pricy awards, but I wasn’t complaining. My apartment had bare white walls and no working lights. The fairly large windows looking down to the city streets let in the only known light during the day. Nights were dark and that’s how I liked them. The living room was empty and the kitchen had no food. The bedroom had a little twin bed and that was it. I didn’t need anything like mortals did.
I placed my hat on the kitchen bar, walked into my room and placed my coat on the bed. I used my coat as a blanket in nights that I actually slept. Sleeping to me was an oddity. I barely ever closed my eyes, especially at night. Deals are made at night. Conversations and killing are done during the day. My coat concealed my body from the day for specials reasons I used to be unaware of. But when I entered my apartment I could reveal what I had to hide from humans.
The bathroom was small, but rarely needed. I walked in and stood there at the sink. I turned on the water and washed my face. I looked into the mirror and saw a face: my face. I smiled to show off to myself my sly grin. My slender face with fair skin was pleasing to look at. I looked innocent with a devilish smirk. My eyes were a deep brown as was my slicked back hair. My nose was slim and slender, and my lips were thin. Dimples appeared when I would smile. These features were only a mask, for the true monster that hid within me was ugly and horrifying. I looked back down into the water lying in the sink. My reflection in the water was different. I saw disfigurement and rotten flesh. This was not my face. I immediately turned around and no one was there.
Someone or something was playing a trick on me. I was appalled. No one tries to trick or fool me. that’s my job. It has been that way for a very long time. I left he bathroom and entered the living room. The air of the space was suspicious. I could sense it. I looked around the whole apartment. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

*

9:30 p.m. The moon has settled in the sky. I look up at the stars from the top of the apartment complex. From the sky I looked over the edge of the building. Cars zipped past swiftly and time seemed to run forever. My eyes returned to the sky and I stood there transfixed. I gazed until a voice from behind me called my name and spoke, “Adam. Lovely night isn’t it?” I turned around a saw the figure of a hooded man, although I new it wasn’t man. I waited for awhile and grinned, “It sure is, my good sir.”
“Do you know why I am here, Adam?” said the hooded figure. I lowered my grin and shook my head. “I am here on matters concerning your charges. Azriel knows you have been slipping them clues on how to escape their fate. He wants you to know that if you do it again, you will be relieved of your duty to him, which you know as well as I what that means. Your very lucky that the victims haven’t caught on. Do you wish to send Azriel a message?” I shook my head again.
“Now, I also have other news: about your next target.” as soon as I heard this I was pulled in. I always looked forward to this information by one of Azriel’s messengers. Once again a smiled formed on my face and I let the messenger continue, “Her name is Rachel Haines. She is 25 and is a theology major studying angelic and demonic warfare. Her knowledge may be useful, maybe too much for her own good. You know what you need to do.” he finished crisply. I pulled a smile that may have pulled a muscle, “Don’t I always?”

[Half-Light]

i posted the sotries without revising them first so there are going to be a couple mistakes...well maybe even a lot of mistakes...

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

Here is a short story i wrote:

Bang!
By: xxAngelOnFirexx

You feel the cold metal of the double barrel touch your temple. Your breathing is in quick rasps. The stranger grins with anticipation. Your good friend bursts into the room and points a pistol at him and slowly walks close enough to him so that the end of the gun touches his ear. You have no control over the situation whatsoever. You have no weapons or possible escape. You must wait for your fate to find you. Sweat begins to drip down your forehead.
Bang!
***
You walk into the bank for your job as a teller. Customer after customer comes up to the window to withdraw or add to their account. Your good friend works beside you. This is the fifth day at your job since your employment.
You remember walking by the bank, in need of a job. After seeing the help-wanted sign you go inside to see if you fit the requirements. To your surprise you are the perfect fit for the job. You schedule an interview. On the day of the interview you put on your best outfit, drink your coffee, and you’re ready.
You, with calm nerves and confidence, surprise the manager and are hired within three days. On your first day of the job over $100,000 changes hands. Satisfied, you go home and wait for next week’s paycheck. You heat up dinner from the freezer and stay up late finishing up your college credits, as it’s close to the end of the semester.
Your memory stops wandering as some one comes up to the counter. He seems different. His eyes are creepy. His five-o’clock shadow gives him the look of a murderer. Maybe he is, you think. He smiles, but his eyes don’t. He then slips his hand into his coat after making sure no one is looking. He shows you a gun, not making a show, and says, “Come with me now, or I’ll cause a commotion and shoot all of them.”
No one notices you leaving and you begin to grow worried. Unable to leave his sight, he takes you outside. He leads you to a mysterious warehouse down the road and shoves you inside. He takes out his double barrel and points it to your head and whispers, “If you had the choice, would you rather have me go back to that bank, have a hold up, rob everyone, and then shoot them? Or would you do everyone a favor and be shot right now? I promise you, I’ll keep my promise. Just a little test of faith on your side is all that matters.”
You want to scream, but you are unable to as he ties a gag around your mouth. “Nod if you’d rather be shot and save their lives or shake your head if you’d rather live a life in guilt.
To your astonishment your good friend bursts into the room. He must have noticed you leave with the strange man and wondered what was going on. He puts the gun to the strangers head and shouts, “Shoot her and I’ll kill you. Walk away, never let me see you again, and live.”
The stranger has other ideas. He tries to shoot, but he has the safety on and is unable to.
Bang!

Your friend, hearing the click, freaks out and shoots the strangers leg instead. He falls. The stranger rolls on the ground, now with his safety off begins to shoot frantically at your friend. You run, ducking. You pick up your friend’s dropped gun and you shoot the stranger between the eyes. He collapses on the ground in a pool of blood.
You want to fall to your knees and cry. Your friend has multiple bullet wounds in the chest. You call 911 on a nearby pay phone and they arrive at the scene just as darkness begins to surround your vision. You have failed to notice your own wound in your side.
***
You feel yourself rise from your body. You see medics surround you and your friend’s bodies, frantically trying to save the both of you. Your friend stands next to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. “I tried you save you. He was too fast. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, you tried. Are we really going to die? Is there no way for them to save us?” you said sadly.
“I don’t think so. I was shot in the spleen, stomach, and right lung. I figure I’d bleed to death anyway. You were shot in the side. You have a chance.”
“So I’d be leaving you?” you say with tears swelling in your ghostly eyes.
“Yes, if that’s how it has to be. Let’s see first if they can. Just so you know, I’ve had a crush on you since we first met as seniors in high school.”
You watch as they bring out the shock paddles. 1, 2, 3 times they try. You feel as if your soul is being pulled towards your body, but you don’t want to leave your friend. He tells you, “We’ll see each other again soon. Your wound is terminal. I’ll be expecting you later tonight.” He hugs you and you wake up in your body.
You faintly hear the paramedic’s applause and then the siren. You are rushed into emergency surgery. After the surgery you are visited by your friends while you explain to them that your time is limited. Then you breathe your last breath.
You are immediately greeted by your good friend. He has teary eyes as he hugs you. “I’m here to take you home now,” he admits.
You follow him upward towards the great light before you. You reach it and find me standing there, waiting for you. “I’ve been watching you your whole life. I know everything about you and I love you very much. Thank you for being kind to others. I forgive you for shooting the stranger, as you had no choice. Welcome to my kingdom.” I tell you.
Then you continue towards the great Eden of light.

[Steam Giant]

Yay! I was thinking of reviving this thread, but I didn't have anything to write! That story was incredible! Very creepy, and kinda makes everything seem so small ^^ Great job!

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

I just wrote this story, I think that you guys will all enjoy.


Cider

June 19, 2002
Hey, I’m Cider! Welcome to my diary. I mean you really shouldn’t be reading it in the first place, but since you’re here, let me tell you a little about myself.
First of all I have this big secret. I’ve been hiding its from my Dads since I was about 12. Now I’m 15 and I’m about ready to come out and tell them. See… I’m straight. Yeah I know its sounds weird, but I just don’t get that same feeling towards guys as my dads. I’m more like my sister. I like girls. I hope my dads don’t mind. They were happy to see that my sister was normal. She’s been crushing on girls as long as I can remember. But of course she’s much older than I am. She’s about 19.
See I’m not really worried that my dads won’t accept me, they’re really cool. I’m just worried how everyone else is going top act. I mean seriously is there really that many girls who like guys? All of my dads friends like the same sex. Why did I have to be so different?

I’ll give you a little background. See when my sister was born my dads moved out like into the middle of nowhere. No schools, city, or anything. My dads friends still keep in touch and come and visit every now and then but other than that the only people I’m used to seeing is my family.
It’s really not much fair around here. My sister gets way more privileges then I do. Since she can drive my dads let her go to the city and college. Since its summer though she is home with me. I’ve been here her talking about all of the great things in the city, like phones, TVs, and computers. The only technology we get out here is my camera. I really do love it. I end up spending most of my free time taking photography.
I bet your wondering how we get educated up here. See one of my dads used to be a teacher, so he home schooled us growing up.
Some times I hear them saying that it’s sad that my sis and me don’t have many friends. I don’t really see what the problem is. I’m a great friend with our 5 cats and 2 dogs! And ever since my sis went to college she’s been having tons of friends. And girlfriends for that matter. Actually at the moment one is staying over at our house. The problem is I can’t stop staring at her! She is so beautiful. And her breasts just seem to pop out of her shirt! I know its wrong to be looking at girls but I couldn’t help it. My sis sure is lucky.

I don’t know if I should tell my dads. I’m still hoping that maybe this is just some weird phase I’ll grow out of. Just like when I thought I was a cat as a little kid. Oh, I should tell you about it! See I was… wait… Oh that my dad calling. Its dinner time. I’ll write more later! See ya, diary!



June 25, 2002
Hey Diary! Sorry it took so long for me to write. My dads took me on a fishing trip! It was like so fun. We got in the car and were like driving for hours! I don’t think I’ve ever had to sit still for that long in my life! Well when we got to this stream there was like a ton of people! There were at least ten different fishers. Some where down in the stream getting wet. Well I decided to show of my fishing skills that I learned for fishing in the b stream by my house. I cast a fly into the water and reeled it back in and guess what? I caught this huge trout! I fought it as I reeled it back it. This obviously got all of the other fishers attention. As we strung it on our fish line both my dads gave me big hugs. Afterwards I started fishing again when I noticed the other fishermen looking at me strange. It was like they could see right through me and see my secret! I felt bad for being straight. Could people like tell by looking at you? Did straight people look different that gays? I wonder…
Anyway when we got back home we had so many fish to clean! I helped my dads and slowly we filled the whole freezer! My sis had stayed home with her girlfriend. I think my dads were pretty had at her, because when we got home my sis and her friend started grabbing their clothes off of the floor and ran back to her room. My dads say that she was grounded but I don’t see how they could ground her and still let her have her girlfriend over.
Later that night I heard more sounds from my sis room so I peered in. They were like making out! I watched for a while unable to move. When I heard one of my dads yawn from their bedroom I scrambled back into my room and shut the door.
And diary you’re not going to believe this! I stole on of my sister magazines! It was the kind that my dads banned from the house with the naked pictures of girls in them. I was like score! Now I could look at girls all I wanted without my dads knowing I was straight. And would my sis find out? Of course not. She had tons of other ones stashed into her secret drawer. Well I’m getting tired. I’ll write more later. Night Diary!



June 27, 2002
Hey Diary! It’s me, Cider again. And guess what? I got caught! Well by my sister at least. My dads had driven her girlfriend home and I was looking at that magazine again. Well since she had nothing better to do she came into my room without knocking first. As soon as I heard the door open I tried to shuffle it away. But it was too late. My sis had already made a mad dive at me and had grabbed the magazine out of my hands. I started to tell my sister not to tell our dads but all she did was laugh. I tried to explain that it was not funny and that I didn’t want our dads to know yet. She just stuck her tongue out at me and left. I was like so worried she was going to tell! I even skipped dinner and went to bed early.
Then today I was thinking and I called my sis in my room. We started to talk about my straightness. She went along with what I was saying but I don’t think she believed me because she had this weird look of amusement on her face the whole time. At the end of our talk I yelled at her asking her if she even believed me and that it was not a laughing matter. She just chuckled and said that I should tell my dads at dinner tonight. I’m so worried what they’re going to say! Oh, shoot dinners ready, already! Well, Diary, here goes nothing!
__________________________________________________ _________

Cider dropped his pen and diary and went to the dinner table. As he sat down with his plate of food, his sister nudged him and said, “Hey, guess what? Cider has something to tell you.
Cider sunk down in his seat. His dads both looked at him, “What is it, Cider?”
Cider cleared his throat, “Um, I don’t really know how else to say this but… I’m straight.”
__________________________________________________ _______


June 28, 2002
Dear Diary, your not going to believe this! See apparently…



The End


I hope it wasn't to confusing and that you understand what he was going to say next! Its supposed to be comical and i hope that I did not offend anyone in case I happened to write something offensive.

[Steam Giant]

Hahaha I loved it! I was really confused until the very end! That was soooo awesome!!! Way to go!

[GuitarGirl1350]

An odd mood brought me to write a poem about a ring.
and straight love.

I picked you up at the flea market the other day
And several times before,
Thrift store after thrift store.
A smooth metal circle with a gleaming stone in the middle,
What stories do you have to tell?
Your metal is tarnished with wear,
Your diamond has chips and dents
But I wonder-
Had some young man come by in this fashion
And fingered you the way I do now,
Were you purchased for thousands or sold for cents?
Were you some passed-away lover’s dream,
Or simply a false feeling portrayed in 2 karats?
Or did they find you on the beach, in the park-
Were you stolen, bought, traded-
I can only imagine the journeys you’ve taken.
You might have danced under a Spanish sunset
Or traveled an Italian waterway
You might have seen the Eiffel tower, the marne,
The nile, the grand canyon, the pyramids at Giza
Perhaps you wrangled kangaroos!
Maybe, even
You’ve been to prison
Experienced bloodstains from an abusive hand
Were you a memoir to her suffering, is that why you’re here?
Or were you simply, a traveling companion
Lost in strict terror-proof security?
You could have meant so many things
And your weathered skin could tell these tales
Were we fluent in the language of stain, we could know-
But perhaps you aren’t meant to be read.
It will be fine if we can never tell,
Only the future lies ahead.
A husband to be
Will cradle you in his hand
And see your potential.
Like his future bride, you’re not the prettiest
Nor the shiniest, nor the largest
But he sees the good in all.
He will slip you on her finger, a perfect fit-
And now your journey begins again.

[GuitarGirl1350]

btw, that's a rough draft.

[Level N Human]

GuitarGirl, I really liked the perusing thoughts in that poem. Also the line about how the ring may not be best thing in the world but for that person it is the perfect fit. I really hope you tailor it to your liking (I already like it), it's already very good open poetry.

And now for something compeltely different.. Hope it doesn't spoil the mood of this thread! It's not about love or desparation or anything - but it's educational! Maybe. Well I wrote it for a Pyschology project anyways.

A Seussian-style poem about the motor and sensory cortex that is a mouthful to read aloud:


Motor cortex.
Sensory cortex.

Cortex,
Schmortex,
Projects!
(More text)

Do you know the motor cortex?

I do not know it, Learn-a-saurus Rex.
I do not know the motor cortex.

Do you know you use it every day?

I do not care if I’ve used it today,
Or if I’ve used it yesterday.
I do not know the motor cortex.
I do not know it, Learn-a-saurus Rex.

Would you care if it were in your brain?
Would you care so much, as to refrain?

I do not care what’s in my brain.
I do not care so I refrain:
I do not care if I’ve used it today,
Or if I’ve used it yesterday.
I do not know the motor cortex.
I do not know it, Learn-a-saurus Rex.

Primary motor cortex executes voluntary motion,
Premotor and supplementary come up with the notion.

Primary whatsit voluntary motion?
Premotor, supplementary whosit notion?
I do not care what’s in my brain.
I do not care so I refrain:
I do not care if I’ve used it today
Or if I’ve used it yesterday.
I do not know the motor cortex.
I do not know it, Learn-a-saurus Rex.

Do you, accrue?
Knowledge of Hitzig and Fritsch.?
Zappity Zappity!
They made dogs twitch.

I do not; I accrue not knowledge of Hitzig and Fritsch.

Then do you know the sensory cortex?
A different deal;
Instead of moving, it can feel.

I do not; construe not, what I feel,
Not Hitzig nor Fritsch! Enough of your spiel!
Primary whatsit voluntary motion.
Premotor, supplementary whosit notion.
I do not care what’s in my brain.
I do not care so I refrain:
I do not care if I’ve used it today,
Or if I’ve used it yesterday!
I do not know of any cortex.
I do not know it, Learn-a-saurus Rex!

Homunculus, homunculus;
To think without Penfield
It would be bunk to us.

I do not care for Penfield, what I feel,
Hitzig or Fritsch, or any of your spiel!
Primary whatsit voluntary motion!
Premotor, supplementary whosit notion!
I do not care what’s in my brain!
I do not care so I refrain:
I do not care if I’ve used it today,
Or if I’ve used it yesterday!
I do not know of any cortex.
Leave me alone, Learn-a-saurus Rex.

In an arc, they’re in an arc!
In front of the parietal lobe - in an arc.

Not in this idle abode, not in this arc.

Is this an issue that we must discuss?

This is not an issue I wish to discuss
Nor arcs in my head, nor homunculus.
Nor dogs that twitch, nor things that I feel!
None of these! They do not appeal.
Nor my brain nor my motion
Nor uh..
Oh my mind’s a commotion!
I do not care if I’ve lost it today.
I think you have made it fizzle away.

[Steam Giant]

GuitarGirl, that poem was great! I've thought similar things about certain purchases of mine in flea markets before, heh. And like LNH said above, I loved how in the end he felt it was a perfect fit for her. Very nicely done, very well worded.

And speaking of well worded, I loved that poem Level N! Such a mouthful, hehe! And so funny! I liked it very much!

[aprilblue426]

blocked

blocked.
a brick wall
put up between me and the outside world.
no more knowledge
no more friends
with a common purpose.
i'm alone.
trapped.
blocked.
LET ME IN!!!
i scream and scream
but all the noise
cannot move them, let alone
a brick wall.
not even the strongest emotion
will make it move.
blocked.

[Alywishous]

I like it.

[Steam Giant]

Wow, I could feel the emotion radiating off of that one! Very deep, very personal. Great work!

[aprilblue426]

incomplete

sadness ripping through me unwillingly
at the thought of the
last look you gave me
starting from the heart
spreading like tremors: jolts
of electricity through my body
why do i build myself up like this
only to be torn down again
crumbled into dust
when one moment
just one small moment
goes amiss?
nothing ever happens
the way you dream it would.
you think it's easy?
you have another thing coming.
the prize is only put in front of you
only to tease; drive you mad
until you feel like
finally you're strong enough
good enough
brave enough
stable enough
to handle what you desire so greatly.
only to stumble: forever damage
your self esteem.
finally you realize
you were wrong.
not strong enough.
not good enough.
not brave enough.
certainly not stable enough.
it was snatched away
before you even had the chance to say
how much it really meant to you.
how much it really meant to ME.
these echoes and fading lines between
TRUTH and REALITY.
the same, yet completely different
In every way.
just like you.
just like me.
both together,
yet both incomplete.
each longing to show the other
what the other cannot see.
will this work?
though they say it won't, i still believe.
then why does it hurt?
i want to show you
how much i love you.
will you let me?
Do you trust me?
Can i complete you?
can you complete me?
all of these questions
are just questions unanswered.
all of these questions, without answers
are incomplete.

[Choucho]

Oh my, you people are all so talented! I'm almost embarrassed to post something of mine, but... >.< I'm an obsessive sharer of things. I'm not really sure what the title of this is, I just found it somewhere...

And the sun sets again
Mark off another day in the calendar
But it’s still the same day to me
And when the sun comes up
I’ll still be under rested
And I’ll face another day alone

Put on a brave face and complain
Put on the dry eyes and cry
Put on the healed heart and break it
Put on the truth so I can fake it

Cuz nothing is what it seems
And it seems that we can make it
Seems that we were
A match made in heaven
And everyone wants us to be

I’ve made it no secret
That this hurts
It’s no mystery
I’m confused
I wish this could be
Ooh, us you and me
But I don’t think it’s happening soon

So I,
Put on a new face and I age it
Put on new lungs oh and I hold my breath
Put on new legs and I won’t walk again
Put on new eyes and never ever open them

Cuz nothing is what it seems
And it seems that we can make it
It seems if we try
Baby we’ll touch the sky
Oh but nothing is what it seems
It would seem that two people in love
Can overcome anything
They tell me that I
Have no right to say bye
But baby I can’t stand the pain

You said that you’d understand
And I hope and I pray that you will
I don’t want to hurt you
But I’m afraid that it’s time
That you and I let go for now

Cuz nothing is what it seems
It may seem that I don’t love you
But you know the truth
Or I hope you do
Please don’t be too mad that I’m weak
Baby nothing’s what it seems
It would seem that I’m not so alone
Nothing is what it seems
Nothing is what it seems
It’s so hard to tell you goodbye

I put on my new life and waste it
Put on my new mind and lose it
Put on my comfort to find I’m allergic
Put on my love just to give it away

Cuz nothing is what it seems
And it seems that we can make it
Seems that we were
A match made in heaven
And everyone wants us to be

[Choucho]

Bah, I'm sorry to post twice in a row but I just wrote this tonight and I need to post it to help get out the feelings behind it. >.< It's nothing special or amazing, just how I feel. It's lyrics, I don't have a title yet.

Warning: Uber emoness to follow. But don't worry, the lyrics are lyrics only, there was no bleeding and such from me.

Even though I know you don't care about me
Even though I tell myself you're not worth the blood
Still, I'm here crying
Still, I hear your voice
Telling me that I just f*** everything up
Telling me I'm not worth it till you get my pants off
But I'm the one who's wrong here
I'm the one who's bleeding

I hear your words and it fills me with rage
Maybe you're right and the thought makes me sick

You never knew how it felt to love
You never knew me
You never needed to know
You never thought of my voice at all
Just what I'd give you
I never meant anything

You tell me I should stay away from me
You tell me that you're not over me
You know I'm not listening
I'm too busy dying
You tell me ever work I speak hurts
Well I should say every breath I take hurts
Bit I'm the one who's wrong here
I'm the one who's worthless

I spent so much time waiting for the truth
When the lies came I didn't know which one to believe

You won't cry for me, no, you wont have the time
You're busy with one night stands
Don't even come to my funeral
You're the one who dug my grave

You never knew how it felt to love
You never knew me
You never needed to know
You never thought of my voice at all
Just what I'd give you
I never meant anything

[aprilblue426]

i liked them ^^ especially the first one. ur style's unique, that makes it interesting.
...btw, i also like ur signature :P
hope to see more from u

[Choucho]

Heehee, thank you. ^_^ I like to try to be unique... so what I write doesn't sound like every other song in existence (I've noticed that's a bit of a problem lately, which is why I don't listen to the radio) I appreciate the feedback.

[Choucho]

Again, sorry to post twice in a row, and again I'll say how talented you all are. ^_^ Very nice work from you all. This is just something I found while looking for something completely different. I wrote it in Psychology/Anthropology/Sociology class after learning what Catharsis meant. It's long and odd, so bear with me. >.<

Catharsis

My soul in ink
Venting
Catharsis
But words
Just words
Descriptive, learned, deceptive words
On paper
Just paper
Rippable, tearable, destructible paper
But still
These words
This paper
It's the best that I can do
One at a time
One
Word
One
Emotion
One
Small
Meaningless
Clump
Of
l
e
t
t
e
r
s
at
a
time
But together,
All together,
Joined in a line
Be it short
Or even so long it's rhythmatically incorrect
Messages as well,
Hidden within the words
And lines
Like the first letters of
Eight lines;
Inside I feel
Like lightning struck
Over and over
Vital signs zero
Everything is nothing
Youthful energy
Over-ruled, I become
Unmoving
More words,
More nothings
More sadness
More confusion
More thoughts
About how completely you suck
But in reality
All there is
To be thought of
Is how good you are
How good it would be
If only you acknowledged I exist.

P.S. I hate you

[Level N Human]

I cast the line - though
I risk losing my prize lure - or
never knowing if you'll come by - so
just come to shore, please
catch and release me.

The hook is numbing - but
I keep letting it sink - and
bite into my gum when
my heart's doing the same thing.

[Choucho]

I like it. ^_^ I like the style you used, and it was very thought provoking. :)

[Behling]

This is a poem I wrote about having to live two lives, a striaght life and a gay life. Now I am a bad poet so don't all tear me apart at once

No one knows who I truly am,
Because I have woven a web of lies.
If someone looked hard they would know,
But no one really tries.

I feel trapped in my own life,
I'm dying to get free.
It kills me that no one knows,
The real and true me.

But I put on a brave face so no one can see,
The pain I feel in my heart.
I wish I could tell someone,
That the pain is tearing me apart.

The pain of lying day after day,
Without an end near.
I scream a silent plea,
But no one can hear.

As time goes by the pain grows dull,
And I begin to heal.
The anguish I once felt,
I now hardly feel.

There is still a place made by the pain,
A gap in my core.
The gap will always be there,
Even though the pain is no more.

I accept that I lead two lives,
I must to get by.
But one day I truly hope,
I will no longer have to lie.

[Choucho]

I don't think it's that bad at all. :) Do you write a lot?

[Behling]

for poetry, only when i get in the mood. mostly when i am in bed and cant sleep. thats how the one above started. for fiction writing i can usually force myself to write

[Choucho]

Yeah, I'm mostly the same way. Lately though, I just haven't been in the mood to write stories. I'm not sure why.

[Behling]

you should post some!

[Nerdtendo]

Like a hole in the cosmos, you have to fill
It up with something more then just
Farting around for all your days.
Even if it's hard, keep going.


Read the first letter of each line. Just a short one, but...

[Choucho]

It may be short, but it's good. ^_^

And to Behling, I have some stuff on the previous page. ^_^

[Choucho]

Again, sorry to post twice in a row. >.< These are lyrics I wrote a while ago, the song is called "Never". Original, I know. >.< But I couldn't really think of anything else, I'm bad with names.

Never is just a forever
That doesn’t start
And our broken hearts are just two more things
That break in the midst of the night
And teardrops, are just one more sound
That are lost in the flesh of the fire
And your voice is just one more thing
That is always just out of my reach

So I cry at night
And whisper a lullaby to the trees
The shadows slowly brush my skin
And carry me away
And mistakes were made once again
So we’ll knock at the gates till the gates will come down
And we’ll rush at the darkness and brandish our failures
And always remember with our dying breath

That mistakes are just one more lesson
That you can’t go back
And what’s done has been done

Sun sets and then the sun rises
And then the sun sets again
A rainbow will always appear
But that doesn’t mean that we will still be here
And there will always be more than one answer
But that doesn’t mean that the answers are right

So I lay awake
And whisper a poem to the raindrops
The shadows slowly brush my hair
And cradle me softly
And mistakes were made once again
So we’ll throw stones at the walls till the walls will come down
And we’ll armor ourselves with our false hope
And always remember with our dying breath

That mistakes are just one more lesson
That we can’t go back
And what’s done has been done

Never is just a forever
That doesn’t start
And our broken hearts are just two more things
That break in the midst of the night
Sun sets and then the sun rises
And then the sun sets again
A rainbow will always appear
But that doesn’t mean that we will still be here
And there will always be more than one answer
But that doesn’t mean that the answers are right
And teardrops, are just one more sound
That are lost in the flesh of the fire
And your voice is just one more thing
That is always just out of my reach

So I sit at night
And whisper a story to stars
The shadows slowly brush my lips
And leave me where I am
And mistakes were made once again
So we’ll yell at the beams till the beams will come down
And we’ll lead the way with the light of our dead love
And always remember with our dying breath

That mistakes are just one more lesson
That we can’t go back
And what’s done has been done

Never is just a forever
That doesn’t start

[Choucho]

Bah, me again. This is the first part to a story I started last night titled "Fake". For once I'm writing something that I have planned out from start to finish. It will be three, maybe four parts. It is basically a journal, so there is no dialog or description of surroundings, I've left everything like that to your imagination.

Fake

I woke up in the hospital one day and didn’t remember how I got there. My arms, hands, and head were bandaged up. I couldn’t sit up because I was strapped down. My mother was crying and my father was sitting beside her.

When she saw that I was awake my mother flung her arms around me and kissed me. While she was telling me how glad she was to see that I was okay, my father left. He returned with a nurse and another woman. After a couple minutes, my parents left the room.

The nurse explained that I had tried to kill myself. She said she had never seen so many cuts on one body before. She said my parents had found me because my blood had leaked out under the door, and that I had barely made it. She introduced me to the other woman, Dr. Shaw.

I sat talking with the psychiatrist for an hour or two. I told her that things in my life were overall okay, despite being a bit boring. I told her that my parents were very loving, and that I had some very good friends at school who always listened when I had a problem.

I told her that I had never considered suicide before and that I didn’t remember what happened. I told her anything I thought would be important, and answered all her questions. For a moment I wondered if she’d be able to spot a lie, but I decided I didn’t need to find out that badly.

When she was done asking me questions, she told me she would be back to see me the next day. She talked with my parents for a little while. She talked to the nurse as well, and afterwards the nurse came in and undid the straps holding me to the bed. I couldn’t look at my mom because of the shame and disappointment we both felt, so when she came back in I pretended to be asleep.

When Dr. Shaw came back the next day, we didn’t talk as much. She had a lot fewer questions, and the things she asked seemed less important. When she was about to leave, I told her that I was scared. I told her waking up in the hospital and not remembering anything that happened was the most frightening thing I had ever experienced in my life. She told me that it was normal to be scared after what I went through, but if I was really scared then I wouldn’t do it again. She told me if it made me safe, she felt the fear was probably one of the best things for me at the moment. She told me it was more common than I would think for kids to end up in the hospital for trying to kill themselves, and she told me I was lucky to have made it. I didn’t say anything. I felt bad knowing that there were so many people who never got a second chance who probably really deserved one. They wouldn’t have made the same mistake twice.

I spent a lot of time with Dr. Shaw before they decided it was alright for me to go home. As far as they could tell I wasn’t depressed, my parents weren’t abusive, and I wasn’t on any drugs.

When I got home I spent a lot of time writing, and lying in bed just thinking. I didn’t talk to either one of my parents very much. When my mom wasn’t at work she was in no mood to talk, and when my dad was at home he was busy. This was fine with me; as far as I was concerned I didn’t need them telling me how disappointed they were. I had no desire to be constantly watched.

School started again soon, and everything was fine at first. And then it wasn’t.

[Alywishous]

I like it but what happens next? Dont u kno ur not supposed to leve us hangin?! ;P

[Casey17]

A poem about lieing to my family and friends about being gay:

Painted Face

Hidden in the darkness of lies,
He lays moaning about his state.
He just sets there and cries,
While others spout their hate.

They hate who he‘s become,
Although of this they’re not aware.
They act so blind and dumb,
To him this isn’t fair.

He can easily turn on the light,
The switch is by his side.
But, he is held back by fright,
The feelings deep inside.

“If they know, they’ll hate me.”,
He tells himself all the time.
He wants to set himself free,
But, in life, he is a mime.

Never saying how he feels,
He hides behind his painted face.
Just silently eating all his meals,
At a slow, pathetic pace.

Alone is how he feels,
He wants to wash the paint off his face.
With one he loves, he wants to share his meals,
At happy, carefree pace.

But, for now, the boy just lies,
In a dark, dark place.
No matter how many times he tries,
He can’t take off that painted face.

I realize that some of the wording was made weird by trying to make it rhyme, but, well i tried. :D

[Nerdtendo]

You dont like short stories, then? how about this?

When a star is born and the night is young, I know your there.
When the sky is blue and the sun is strong, I will always care.
While the waters sparkled and the waves where calm, This I always knew.
But for once in my life, with your hand on my palm, I wish I was there with you.

When the clouds are dark and the rain begins to pour, I know your fears.
When the wind is blowing and the birds dont soar, I know your tears.
When the sun just wont shine, and the shadows cover all, I know your upset.
But no matter your feelings, For you, I will fall...
If we had only met.

I dream of you always and cant lose you from my mind. (If I did, it'd be a nightmare.)
As I search for you now, I feel like I'm blind. Oh, how much for you I care.
As I wonder the lands and look around, I'll always think of you.
My only wish is that somewhere out there...
You think of me to.

[Alywishous]

I like that! Its sweet. It sounds really good when you whisper it out loud. Just a thought.

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

OMG that is SO awesome!

[hunterjones]

i write poetry to get me though the difficult times... this i sone i wrote after my cousin ( and best friend) comitted suicide:

Journey's end
is near my friend
and your time has grown short
Journey's end
is near my friend
and your eyes are tired and sore.
Life is over
for you and I
but time won't let me be.
My hurt is fresh
and my life a mess
as you leave like you should
My body aches
and my bady shakes
as I try to deal with this
My body aches
and my body shakes
as I hit but always miss
Tears fall down
and hit the ground
when I try to speak to you
Tears fall down
and hit the ground
while I say goodbye to you.

[Aristophanes]

I hope this is not considered grave-digging. This is from a comedic musical I wrote (I often write lyrics for friends as entertainment). Here the brother's main character attempts to persuade him not risk his life for an absurd scheme.

It’s better to be alive
Once dead no one can revive
Feet planted on the ground
Not the other way around

Better to be skin and bones
A debtor thin, but thick in loans
Than numerals on Pluto’s accounts
Where funerals total up amounts

Better to be poor and old
Sleeping on a floor that’s cold
Than in a wooden, dark, grayed box
And a solemn pillow made of rocks

It’s better to be alive
Once dead no one can revive
It’s better to live and thrive
Some how you must survive

Better to play well and lose
To never betray your views
Than play crooked games of chess
The winner’s name you can guess

Better to labor in a field
Coveting your neighbor’s yield
Than harvested by Farmer Death
A man whose seed is your last breath

It’s better to be alive
Once dead no one can revive
It’s better to be here instead
Of an eternal bed
It’s better to be alive
Once dead, you’re through
It’s better to be alive
Than waiting in death’s queue

[oneguy15]

^That's actually pretty deep to be in a comedic musical, it's really good.

Umm, I guess I can post the prologue to a fanfic i'm working on in my blog. I still need a title, but I think I already have it. Anyway, I hope it isn't too long to be a prologue...

::This fanfic will have descriptions of violence, gore, as well as some(not explicit) adult themes and some profanity. Reader discretion is advised.::

Prologue

Silent Hill, the beautiful resort town located in the Toluca District, is the hometown of 21 year-old Erick Lepper. In his teens, Erick admitted to his family that he was gay, causing the disownment of him by his father and his forced removal from their household. Living as a squatter in a seperate part of town, because of the shame he felt for his orientation, Erick had met a young woman vacationing in Silent Hill, 19 year-old Karen Welsh. She kindly took him in after seeing the torment he was dealing with by other teenagers, and quickly became Erick's best friend and support after she warmingly accepted him being gay. Together, they lived a stable life at her apartment in the nearby town of Brahms, until the night Karen was brutally attacked and killed in a mugging.

Erick could do nothing but watch in fear inside Karen's car as his only friend was murdered due to the greed of 3 men. He had completely shut himself off from the world after that, traumatized by the state Karen was left in and by the cruel, corrupt minds he felt all people had. Erick lived out the rest of his teens in a foster home, always being distant and cold to the other kids, until he was released and was able to earn enough money to rent his own apartment. For 3 years he lived in silence, barely keeping his job and living with nothing but Karen's pink-leather diary as a memento of the woman who was the only source of happiness for him. His quiet life has been disrupted however, by a note that mysteriously appeared on the last page of the diary:

"To Erick,

I know life has caused you so much misery,
but you can't live in fear.

That only leads to endless suffering.

Go back to Silent Hill,
you will find your reason to live there.

-Karen"

A thick fog eerily rolls in after, but Erick has already made up his mind. He's going to Silent Hill.

[azurelover14]

I LOVe Writting!

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

a story i wrote. the first in a long time for me.

Purgatory Angel
Bullets flew as guns popped loudly through the night. People screamed. As soon as the deadly fire stopped a car screeched and sped off. Samantha’s neck screamed in pain. She lay on the floor of the broken down house in the worst parts of the city. Smoke rose off the bullets in the cold crisp night. All Samantha realized in her sudden calmness was that she was dying.

She hadn’t lived a good life nor a long life. In fact she barely lived at all. Everyday scraping by to get enough money for the drugs before she started looking for food. Sneaking around late at night in the desolate areas of the city to meet her customers whether they were buying more drugs or sex. Samantha didn’t value her life. For her it was hell. But she really didn’t know much more growing up in the poorest area of the city. All she knew was stealing, break-in, drug deal, prostitution and hiding from the cops.

As she lay dying she wondered what was next. Was there really a God? An after-life? Reincarnation? Eternal punishment? During her life she never really thought twice about faith. Except when it took her victims outside of the house on their way to Sunday mass, where she would either car-jack their car or break into their house. That basically summed up the amount of her faith.

When she died her spirit did a little twist and burst into gold sparks. At first she twirled downward then she stopped and her spirit disappeared. The next thing she knew she was thrown onto a cold concrete ground. Around her she saw dilapidated buildings and graffiti sprayed carelessly across the buildings and along the sidewalks. Getting up she realized she was piled on with rusty steel chain links which wound around her wrists and ankles and eventually led to a large stone ball. She looking in front of her and about a quarter mile away stood a long line of people all dressed in rags and covered in varying amounts of chains.

Samantha saw people of all ages. Old men with heavy chains, adults with amounts trailing behind them, and even small children with the lightest of loads. Something pulled her forward and suddenly each leg began to lift. She began to walk chains dragging her down. When she finally caught up to the line she tapped the man in front of her on the shoulder. When he turned around Samantha gasped. The mans face was badly bruised and blood. Yet when he talked his voice was surprisingly kind.
“ Can I help you, miss?” he said.

“Um… Where am and I? Whats going? Wha-?” Samantha stammered as she began to cry.
“Miss calm down! There is no need to fret. See you are in purgatory. Since you did not go straight to hell I presume you will get a chance to redeem yourself. But since you didn’t go straight to heaven you’re going to be in this line for quite some time.”
Samantha sniffed, “What do you mean? Quite some time?”

The man frowned, “I can’t tell you that, miss. It depends on what you’re here for. Anyway I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. But one thing you must know: Don’t get out of line. No matter how bored or tired you are. Or you may not be able to get back in.”
Samantha looked at him wide eyed. Then she stared at the appearently never ending line in front of her. “So…. What do you suppose you’re here for?”

The man looked stern for a moment then replied, “In life I was a nice respected man. But when my wife left me I became distraught. I began to spend most of my life drinking and gambling. Then one night I made a bet I couldn’t cash. Well the man wasn’t to happy and it didn’t help he was drunk out of his mind either. He began to beat me up. Then the rest of his gang came at me. After being beat senseless and unconscious they tied my body to my now destroyed motorbike and through me in a river.”

Samantha did not wince. Growing up in a bad area made stories like this the norm. Still she replied, “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. See with me I grew up in a really bad area of a large city. I dropped out of schoo when I was 16 to join a gang. I got into drug dealing and prostitution. I also began to take many different drugs and drink. Then last night my gang got into a shoot-out. I got scared and ran home. Well one of the members of my gang had gotten killed because I ran. So the members decided as just punishment they would shoot out my home in hopes of killing me. And as you can see they succeeded.”

They man nodded. Although that wasn’t the life he was used to he’d heard such on the local news. “Well to help you out a bit when you get to the front of the line a saint will ask you what you did wrong in this life, what you could have done instead, if you are sorry, and why you think he should let you go to heaven.”

Samantha nodded her head, “Uh, thanks. But how my life turned out was not my fault! I grew up in a bad area. I didn’t have the same opportunities as other people. I-“

“Miss! Life is what you make of it. Even if you don’t get dealt a good hand you can’t just give up.”

“But I don’t get what I was supposed to do?” Samatha pleaded.

“Well,” said the man, “You have a long time to figure it out.” And he smiled a mouth full of broken teeth.

Time passed. Minutes turned into hours which turned into days. The never-ending line slowly trudged forward. It reminded Samantha of the great march in the holocaust. The only differences were that the people were already dead and supposedly ending towards happiness at the end of the line. In the time it took to walk many miles Samantha talked to many people. Some were tired lost souls who had given up on God and were getting out of line. The man in front of her stayed put.

He said that they only place the people who got out of line were going was hell. At the edge of the clouded city was a giant fiery drop that sends whoever goes over the edge straight to hell. That was why it was smart to stay in line. Also there was no way that anybody would let you cut or back in. That people who walked to the front instead of waiting went to hell no questions asked. The reason being that God has time for those who wait.

All right then Samantha had agreed. Its not like she wanted to stray anyway. She would just wait till she got to the front and to her eternal judgement. She looked off into the distance. Outside of the layers of broken and half destroyed buildings all there was graffiti smeared cloud cover.

As Samantha looked behind her she noticed the line was getting longer and longer. Yet at the same time she seemed to be getting nowhere fast.

[xxAngelOnFirexx]

more angel stories!

Demonic Angel
The raggedy blood covered girl ran from the incoming sirens. She knew they were getting closer. Her bloodied knife slipped from her hand. It was dark. The police car halfway surrounded her. The cops jumped out of the car and pointed their guns. Weaponless she looked behind her. She leaned against the cold pavement of the bridge. The cool dark blue river below thrashed mercilessly. Amy was not about to be captured.
In the rush of the moment she flipped herself off the bridge. She plummeted 40ft and hit the water hard as if it was solid concrete. If she were still alive she would have felt her body sinking into the ice water. But she was not and only saw black. At first it was very cold around her. Then as if she was suddenly knocked off of her feet she fell over into what felt like a blazing furnace. Hell.
Then before she realized what was up and down bright lights hit her. Momentarily blinded she put her hand over her eyes. Then from apparently nowhere black whips jumped out of the group and bind her wrists and ankles tight. They bound her against a hot stone. Then opening her eyes to the lights she saw something in front of her. A lot of something.
A stark naked man the color of a blood-rose with a black singed goatee stood before her. He was more menacing than any picture detected. His horns curled around his pointy ears and his tail was thick like rats with a dagger arrow on the end. “Murder? How lovely! But let me see what my chart says… Wait… To a man with a knife to his throat. You then proceeded to stab him 50 times, mutilate his body, put it in a bag and store in in the freezer. Hmm… A few points for creativity there… But wait! This then says when the a random police car found you less than a day later you pleaded for them to let you go. When they tried to grab you shot out the car killed both of them. From there you ran. When cornered you, you killed yourself by jumping off of a high bridge. Nice! Murder, suicide, very well! But running? What is this! If you are capable of all that why can you stand up and fight?”
Amy, eyes wide with fear stammered, “I… I… I didn’t plan on all of that. I just got scared. The man said I owed him money for the drugs he sold me but I didn’t have any to pay. So he went to attack me so killed him. Then the police found me and I knew I was guilty on many more measures than murder and I didn’t want to spend my life in prison only to come here anyway. I just wanted to escape.”
Satan grinned, “You wanted to escape to Hell? Then were do you think you are going to escape to? Is eternal suffering good enough for you?”
Amy began to cry out to God, “Please save me! I shouldn’t have let my life turn out this way! I should have never started the drugs, they drove me mad! I shouldn’t have taken everything for granted. I’m sorry!”
Satan and the demons around him hissed and screamed. Satan raised his hand and big black bat wings broke out of her back, black and crimson horns ripped out of her skull and spikes rose going down her spine. Amy cried out in pain and new blood dripped down her sides. This time it was her own, thick and warm. Then suddenly an angel surrounded by white light came out of nowhere and rose his golden staff. Satan and his demons disappeared and all that was around her was white cold waves. Had God sent and angel to save her?
The angel reached out his hand. “I believe God would like you to have another chance. I am Octavo. Follow me.” The Latino angel lifted her up and she took his hand. As he started to fly Amy remembered her new set of wings and lifted herself up into the air. If the circumstance had been any different she would have been amazed.
The bright light began to fade and Amy could make out desolated buildings in ruins. They were now standing on clouds that were dark as if expecting a storm. A few feet from them St. Peter was standing behind huge golden and jewel encrusted gates. They seemed out of place with the rest of the scene. He looked up at the two and signed to them that they would get there in a minute. At the front of the gate there was standing a young dark skinned girl covered in many chains.
She heard St. Peter speaking to her. “Samantha are you sorry for all of your sins and the life that you lived?”
“I am. I really wish that I had taken the opportunities that I had and not went into drugs and prostitution. Oh, God forgive me!” She cried looking up at the clear blue sky. St. Peter looked down at his book.
“Alright Samantha God realizes you are truly sorry. Your punishment of waiting so long has been served. You may enter the gates.” Samantha cried out in joy. The chains that were crushing her disappeared, as did all of the blood and scars covering her. The gigantic gates opened. A man in white robes was waiting for her. As she stepped forward she was clothed in white robes and white-feathered wings came out of her back. Together the continued walking and disappeared into the mist. The gates closed.
It was Amy’s turn. Octavo stepped forward and spoke, “St. Peter I have saved this girl from Hells gates. When being judged by Satan she called out and begged for God’s forgiveness. I believe she deserves another chance with Heaven.”
St. Peter gave her a scrutinizing glance. His eyes opened wide at her appearance, “We cannot reverse her appearance since it was created with Satan’s dark magic. But since she called for forgiveness she obviously believes in God’s saving powers. But she has sinned to an extreme manor. Hmm… This is a tough case. Let me see what He says.” St. Peter walked back to his desk and picked up a phone. He dialed a short number and waited. Seconds later he began to talk, “We have special case here… Oh yes I’m sure you already know about it but she seems to feel sorry for her crimes... I know we don’t see that very often… Yes she is deformed already… Ah, I see… Well alright if that’s the way you want to go… G’bye.”
St. Peter hung up the phone, “He says that your deformities should stand as a reminder for your sins. If you are truly sorry and repenting you may enter.”
Amy fell to her knees, “Oh God I am truly sorry! No way would I ever do such horrible things again! I will take my new appearance as punishment.”
The gates began to open and Amy sobbed. She heard grumbles behind her as other complained that she didn’t have to wait in line. St. Peter picked up the phone in one hand and yelled, “Any of you who would ALSO like to be deformed for eternity as punishment please step ahead! Satan is but a call and a long drop away!” There was silence. “That’s what I thought!” St. Peter said angrily. “I’m sorry my dear go ahead.”
Amy walked through the arches. Nothing happened to her ugly appearance. She sighed. At least she was going to Heaven, even if she was always reminded of her sins. Then as the gates closed she felt a ‘pop’ above her head. Looking up, there was a halo circling her horns. Amy snorted. “God, you have such humor.” Rolling her eyes she walked into the mist.











and i may have posted similar with this before but i totaly butchered the original and turned it into this one so read it!


Dark Angel
Xochitl ran as fast as she could. God himself had thrown her out after she got to the front of the line of Purgatory after she refused to forgive her murders and be sorry for her wrongs.
But before she could do anything else, she felt a burning pain swallow her body. Her wings became dark and bat-like, she grew small horns, and her green eyes became a sharp violet... Satan watched as she transformed into a Dark Angel, not a full demon but and Angel that has gone evil instead of accepting God’s forgiveness...
The now demonic looking girl stood up and flexed her changed appendages. She stared at Satan through her eyes with a form of astonishment. "Since I’m not with God I now have to be with Satan too!?" She said with anguish. She let her head down and kicked a rock, which under her new strengths flew many meters.
"So you're Satan, eh?" He nodded with an evil grin.
"And what could you possibly want with me? Couldn't you see that I already was fallen? Unwanted from God. You've really screwed things up for me now. What am I? One of you're demonic spawn? I would never sink so low!"
Satan looked at her astonished, "I would never think of putting you down to those worthless scum. You are one of my Dark Angels now! If you can’t be with God, you must listen to me now."
"Right" said the girl rolling her eyes, "Like I'd ever even consider even listening to the likes of you and your lies. I may not be in a right place to be siding with God, but your beliefs are outrageous. I follow no one but myself." And she turned to fly away, but Satan grabbed her.
“You will follow me!” chained cuffs formed around her wrists. Satan began to lead her. “I have something to show you.” Xochitl could only follow.

The deserted, rocky area seemed to be getting hotter. There really was no reason to though. It wasn't like there was a sun or anything like that. As far as she knew. Everything in the after-life was so complicated.
After a while her wrists began to blister open and were red and raw from the cuffs. She tried to keep up pace with Satan, but really, he walked quite fast even for a demon.
She saw something silvery coming up in the distance that was a great contrast to the area around it. She looked up at Satan, as he was much taller than her, probably around 7'5 while she was only a bit of 5 1/2 feet.
She realized that the pool was their destination when they stopped in front of it. Xochitl was amazed when images began to form in it. Satan stood behind her and made sure she was watching.
"This is something you need to see. It is why I think you should willingly follow me..."
Xochitl watched with interest. What could he possibly show her that would make her want to follow Him? As soon as they formed she realized the images were eerily familiar... Too familiar....
Xochitl flexed her tense wings with worry flooding her. She stared as the pool displayed the images of the last moments of her life.
She was only 17 and a senior at her high school. Her family was fairly poor and as a result she lived in a bad neighborhood. Xochitl was different, though, from the gangsters, drug dealers, and prostitutes that were always in her neighborhood. Although rap was normally blasting in the cars (the only nice things in that place) she always was into rock. She dressed in black and was always being tormented by her neighbors that she was some devil worshiper or 'Gothic' although she didn't dress the hardcore at all. She knew in her heart that she was emo and she didn’t care that she was part native Indian either. Totally different that the normal scene.
That evening she was walking through her neighborhood. The streetlights were just beginning to be turned on. People were pretty much inside because the place was no longer safe after dusk. There was still faint sunlight on the horizon, but the moon shone brightly throw the cities few trees that resided in the ghetto neighborhood.
Xochitl was only a few blocks from her home where she knew only her drunken mother would be 'waiting. Not even really waiting for her, but waiting for her to clean the house only so she could yell more at her for it being such a trashy mess. She didn't care about her too much. Maybe her mother did, but she was to drunk to ever show it. Xochitl remembered that when her dad left when she was 5 he mother became a drunk and she had to grow up really fast to take care of herself, especially when they were through out of their small apartment. They had wandered the city streets until they managed to get a falling apart one room for rent in the cheapest part of the disturbingly ghetto part of town.
Suddenly Xochitl heard the cruel laughs of some gang that was always being especially cruel to her. When she turned around she heard some more jeers about being an 'evil devil worshiper freak' and then a loud gunshot.
Before she knew it, she was on ground her blood pooling around her from her chest. She took a deep, painful breath, tried to left her head, and placed her hand hard over the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. In the background she heard some woman screaming at the boys about calling the cops. They shouted back at her and fired gunshots into the air and then took off in their Cadillac and sped off into the night.
Xochitl put her head down on the cement unable to get up. Her eyes rolled back into her head and everything turned black.

Back in the basins of Hell the Xochitl had fallen to her knees and was sobbing hopelessly into the pool, which had then gone black. She shouted up at Satan, "Why did you show me this? What relevance does it have?"
"I think you of all people would know, my dear." He replied with a sneer. "You see remember when you got up to heaven? God said that He would forgave you for all of your sins. And the only way for you to get into heaven was for you to forgive your killers and to be actually sorry for your sins. But you would not, would you?"
Xochitl shook her head, tears flowing out of her bloodshot purple eyes, "How could I? They had killed me. I will never forgive them! And why would I be sorry. I believe my sins are justified."
"And that's exactly how He threw you down from purgatory with his own hands into the basin of Hell, as an unwanted Angel." Satan slowed down as he said the word 'unwanted'.
Xochitl blinked, confused.
"You see? I want you, I don't think that you should forgive them and I understand why you shouldn’t be sorry. This is why I think you should willingly join me. For what God has done to you so far? I will let you have your revenge." He smiled.
Xochitl looked into the unreflective water and saw cars moving and streets below. "I will join you." She said this with a great pain in her heart. It was like she was handing over all she ever was going to be. Her fate. For that was exactly what she was doing. He must be right, she thought. Why should I forgive them? They deserve to suffer for eternity. Suddenly she felt her eyes spike fire and her wings stretched out like a beast. Satan smiled at her.
"Well than. I accept that as a binding answer then." And placed his burning hand on her forearm. Xochitl jerked away and He let go. On her arm, where the flesh was sizzling black was an upside down pentagram with the numbers '666' in the center. The pentagram had wings coming off of the sides and a dark halo over it. Satan pointed to the pool ignoring the shocked look on her face. "That is the portal to the other world. They cannot see you once you go there and you can get back anytime. You can also see the past through it as I've already showed you. But not now. We have other things to do."
Satan blasted the chains off of Xochitl's wrists. "These are no longer needed as you are bound to be as we agreed. Whenever I need you the symbol with light on fire and you will report directly to me, my Dark Angel."
Xochitl nodded unsure of what to say. She looked at her wrists that were still raw from the chains and rubbed them. The skin peels off and burned as sand blew into it from the wind. She grimaced, "What now?"
Satan looked at her with a twisted smile, "You'll see." And he took off with His black bat-like wings into the sky. Xochitl could only follow.

[ebra]

not really stories...or poetry...but sometimes I just write, If it doesnt make sense, my bad

Your worth cannot be measured by how happy you make others, it cannot be measured by the choices you make, or the life style you lived. Your worth cannot be measured by what you believe of yourself, or how you feel about your self. Your worth is immeasurable.

Your happiness cannot be sacrificed to make others happy. It cannot be sacrificed for the choices that society wants you to make, or to live your life in a certain way. Your happiness should not rely on the faith you have in yourself or what you believe. Your happiness should come first.

What you deserve is not based on whom you associate with. It is not mirrored in the choices that you make or the life that you live. What you deserve is more then you believe yourself to be worth, more then what already makes you happy. What you deserve is everything.

There is no forgiveness needed for being unable to make others happy. For the choices that you make, or the lifestyle that you live. There is no forgiveness needed for your lack of faith in what you deserve. There is no forgiveness needed for showing weakness or defeat. There is no forgiveness needed.







I just want an answer simple and sweet. I just want the truth whatever it may be. I want to know that I am taken seriously. I want to know that when I am told something that it is true. I just want to be wanted. I don’t know why people look through me, and I cant say why I don’t feel anymore. All I know is that I need you. Where ever you are, who ever you are. Maybe your someone that I have already known, maybe deep down we have already felt the passion between our souls. Maybe Ill spend the rest of my life searching for someone to take your place. But all I want is an answer, I just want the truth, I can handle It, I am not weak. I am not afraid. I am afraid, but at the same time the fear makes me strong, the fear forces open closed doors. It is my fear that pushes me towards the truth. Why cant you be who I need you to be? Why cant I know that you are here, and why cant I use all the knowledge that you have leanered. What to I owe you? You sitting there with out purpose, with out reason. I could be your reason, I could be your dreams, I could be your everything, and your nothing. If you only would give me the chance, The chance to prove that I am more than I appear. Behind everything that I have said lays a secret meaning, behind every action, passion awaits. Behind every giggle, an unknown fear, every comment an insecure child. A child Just waiting for someone to take me home, someone who understands and someone to set me free. Im tired of being locked away, and I am tired of being ignored. I have done nothing to deserve this and I will not be punished for all of your fears and all your insecurities. How I long to be my own person. Strong enough to face the world with out you behind me taunting and teasing, waiting and watching be until I break. You are everything that I long for, everything my dreams long for. Yet you are everything that I run from, everything that tainted my dreams, and everything that has been stolen from me. I need you, I need to love you, I need to hate you and I need to be you. You are me….

[aprilblue426]

Rayne’s Song

Too many words in the English language
More than enough to make her see
Fold them up into paper snowflakes
Blow them away and watch the world freeze
Frost creeps over every surface of my mind
Don’t lose your grip because
You might fall off this time
And I’ll watch as you try to spread your wings
Falling out of the sky, it looks so easy
Feathers falling over everything
A soft white blanket, cold and clean
Just look up at the sky and you’ll remember me
Watch the stars, making holes in your indigo dreams
Take them out of the sky one by one
Until you learn to love who I have become
Fold them up into paper snowflakes
Blow them away and watch the world freeze
Blue turns to silver and white into gold
Even after all these years you’re
Such a beautiful sight to behold
Look at my face in the shattered mirror
I’ll still look the same in a thousand years…
Too many words in the English language
Yet there’s never enough to make her see
Cut them up into little pieces
Blow them away, out of my memory…

[Half-Light]

Shifted Difference

I was born in a small Pennsylvanian town on September 11, 2011 a decade after the disaster known as 9/11. The President of the United States had failed to keep any sort of stability in the politics of war. Troops over in the Middle East just died. Terror plots here became too frequent to stop. Those thought to be normal people finding refuge in the U.S. turned out to be our worse nightmares.
The day I was delivered, a group of terrorists quietly polluted our water systems. People all over the nation drank the water and used it for everyday use without showing any signs of pollution. By my first birthday, scientists had determined that the country had been consuming water poisoned by terrorists. Over time, the tainted water caused a horrible skin disease on over half the people in the country. The CDC called it the Silent Disaster.
Not only did our involvement in the war worsen, but natural necessities of life changed as well. Global Warming became a bigger issue than we all thought. Summers grew hotter and winters warmer. Polar icecaps diminished. Land water evaporated. An increase of sun caused skin diseases all over to worsen.
The habits of human beings affected life as well. The life expectancy was decreased to 67 years. Drugs, alcohol, and food became the downfall of health. Scientists tried to change the ways of humans in order for a better lifestyle and a better world, but their efforts never amounted to much.
My name is A.J. Haines. I was born into a broken world. I had a mother, a father, and a sister who was eleven months older than me. We lived in a small townhouse less than a couple blocks away from the town's high school. Yes, I grew up in this ruined society, but I kept a spirit as hopeful as ever could be. Even though I had my doubts, I tried to keep my head high, not just for me, but for my family.
When I was three years old I was diagnosed with the after effects of the polluted water: the skin disease. It could be kept at bay as long as I injected myself with a needle everyday called a neutralizer. A two month supply cost as much as our monthly rent. My family could barely get by. My mother and father worked for the government. Luckily, their salary put together kept our home, gave us food, and kept me alive.
By the time I was fourteen years old, the disease in the U.S. worsened. One out of ten people carried the disease which ate away at the flesh, made the skin peel, and caused sores and blisters. Depending on the severity, if the disease was bad enough, the neutralizer did nothing and it did more harm than good. People would die in a matter of months. I was one of the lucky few who stayed.
*
I woke up one January morning, walking out to the kitchen aroused by the aroma what my mother was making. That morning there was homemade waffles, which was a luxury to most. There were never any types of meat for any meal. Because of the increase of sun, animals decreased in number and farmers had a hard time breeding livestock. I was always thankful for the food I received. It was always wonderful. I could have been eating the instant meals made and created by the scientists who wanted to better our lives. Adjustments had to be made because resources were running out.
Already sat down at our small but cozy dining table, my father and my sister Sammy watched the stack of waffles as I joined them. We dug in. Shortly, we had the whole stack finished.
“Absolutely wonderful, Mom. The waffles taste better every time!” I said.
“Your very welcome. Now eat quickly. School doesn’t wait and neither do your injections,” she replied.
When we were all done, mother reminded me to take my neutralizer. I went back to the bathroom I shared with Sammy and opened the medicine cabinet over the sink. I took out the injection needle and a vial full of blood red liquid. I filled the needle and prepared the spot on my upper arm for injection. Over night I had started peeling and the neutralizer would stop that from progressing for about six or seven hours.
I felt little pain as I watched the needle sink into my arm. I admit, I might have winced a bit, but I was pretty used to the twice daily injections. The red fluid disappeared, and I pulled the needle back out. I replaced the needle for my next injection and threw away the empty vial. I returned back to the kitchen after I was done.
I returned to the table and saw my father reading the local newspaper. On the front page the headline said, "MISSING BOY FOUND!" I immediately related this to the disappearance of a fellow classmate at school. Ben Sandrik was his name, and he had gone missing about a month before. The whole town was in an uproar, but officials did not seem to put much effort in finding him. I did not know him very well except that his parents were recently divorced and that he was the object of torment by a junior named Raul Caster. Raul was the big football star and had a good reputation until Ben outed him for cheating on his girlfriend's sister. Some wondered and even questioned Raul if he had any involvement in Ben's disappearance, but the thought was omitted by everyone after the police announced he had nothing to do with it. Raul's father owned the local orchard which provided food for the whole town and was a much respected man, not by good deed, but by crude manner.
“What’s going on in the news today, Dad?”
“Well your missing classmate has been found. It seems as though he ran away from everything. He just showed up on his front doorsteps. He told the police he was in the woods. How long has it been? A couple of months?”
“Yep,” I replied.
Ben Sandrik had been going through a rough time, but I knew he had a good sensible head on his shoulders. He could never have just run away. Even Raul could not make him want to escape that badly.
*
I walked with Sammy to school. I wore my sunglasses with a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and a hat, all to keep my body protected from the sun. Sammy also wore a long-sleeved shirt with a denim skirt. She had on sunscreen, which I couldn't wear because it would irritate my already diseased skin. As we approached the school doors I looked over in the direction of the woods which lined the one side of the school. There stood Ben Sandrik by a tall tree. His head was down and then he looked up for a second. I turned away as soon as his eyes met our direction, but Sammy just stared. I kept walking until she realized I left, and then followed.
I collected my things and proceeded to my homeroom. I sat down and realized that today the empty seat beside me would be occupied by the once missing Ben Sandrik. He had always sat beside me. I always wondered what people thought of sitting next to a monster like me, but Ben never seemed to be phased by it.
Then he walked in, all cool and casual as if nothing ever happened. This time I could not help but stare. He sat and looked down at the table. I noticed he had streaks of white and black in his hair, when the last time I saw him it had a deep chestnut color. Then he looked at me. His eyes were dark blue, as dark as deep blue sapphires, when they used to be a chocolate brown. I dared myself to ask a burning question.
“Why did you leave?” I dared myself to ask. He said nothing. I felt he was keeping something. I thought maybe the world would never know the reason why Ben Sandrik had gone missing.
*
Once my father told me that paradise lies in the heart of the strong. The saying was inscribed in my memory and I never forgot it. I was never given a meaning. I had to find out that for myself. I wondered, “By strong did he mean physically or emotionally? By paradise did he mean in heaven or on Earth?” I never stopped wondering.
One day I had to go to the hospital because of a simple cold. The cold my body was fighting rejected the neutralizer, and my peeling could not be kept at bay. Doctors did not know what to do. They thought that I had no chance at recovering. After a week of lying in the hospital bed, my body shut down. In some places my skin was withered down to the muscle. I became unconscious.
The only thing I could ever recall seeing was a man in black, but with a shining aura. He told me to wake up. I saw the man with his hands hovering over my body. I felt a sensation which made me tingle. No one else was in the room. The man removed his hands from above me and placed them at his sides. He told me to sleep.
I remember nothing else of the occasion. I woke up to be in my room with my mother asleep on a chair in the corner. I wondered if everything that happened was a dream. I thought maybe I was still dreaming. I tried getting up out of bed, but I fell to the floor the instant pressure was applied. Mother quickly woke up when she heard my frail body make an unnatural thud. She picked me up off the floor and asked me if I was okay while placing me back on the bed. I tried to speak but I could not. I managed a nod. She left the room shortly and returned with my father.
I heard mother saying, “He just woke up! He fell and I…I don’t understand. I hope he is okay. Go call the doctor!”
I rested while mother marveled over my awaking.. How could I have survived? The doctors had no clue how to treat me. The peeling would have progressed, and I should have been dead. The man in black placed his hands on me and he healed me. How could he just heal me? Was he an angel? It was impossible, but the only explanation for why I was living.
*
A couple days later mother was sitting by my bed talking to me. I was still very weak, but I listened to her voice. She said, “You fought so hard, A.J. I am so proud of how far you’re coming. The doctors thought you were gone when you went out. We didn’t believe the doctors when they told us your skin was all better. Its truly a miracle. You’re a miracle.”
I was walking about a week later. I became weak from the shock and had to rebuild myself. No matter what, my family was there to back me up. I did recovered. I found paradise in my strength. I found strength with the love of my family.
*
The town had discovered a crisis. Raul Caster’s father found some things stealing from his orchard. It was a serious matter since he grew the town’s only source of fruit. He claimed the culprits were a white wolf and a white tiger. Most thought he was crazy. It was the talk of the school when I returned. Word spread like wildfire. It was nice, for once, that I did not have to hear my personal dilemmas being discussed. Raul’s reputation and status was crushed and thrown away. He was constantly criticized. It never seemed to let up.
Rumors were all they ever were, until things got serious. Raul’s father caught wind of everything that everybody was saying. He decided he was going to prove to everyone that what he saw and what was going on was really true. We kids couldn’t keep our noses out of it. Some would play mean tricks on the old man. Raul would gather some friends and scour the woods between the school and Ben Sandrik’s home to hunt down his father’s “wolf” and “tiger”. Then one night changed everything. Raul’s father caught his “wolf” stealing from the orchard. He gathered up a group of buddies and followed it into the woods.
When he returned out of the woods, he told everyone that it was all over. The “wolf” and “tiger” were dead. It did not end there. Officials reported Ben Sandrik missing as well as two other teenagers. They found the two teen boys dead in the woods, but no sign of Ben Sandrik. Raul’s father was arrested and later put into an asylum for criminals for going insane. The town assumed the two boys thought they were having harmless, only in turn to lose their lives. When they arrested Mr. Caster, they seized the orchard. Before selling the property they inspected it. What they found would shock the town.
*
Raul lived without any parents his whole life and entered into politics to avenge his father’s mistake by hoping to change the world for the better. He was scrutinized from there on in. he only had his girlfriend, Stacey, to stand by him. Stacey was frowned upon by all just because she was Ben Sandrik’s cousin. Others believed she could have done more to keep Ben out of the line of torment. As a couple the became distanced from everyone else. The town’s peace had been broken. Nothing was ever the same again.
*
One night Sammy confided to me a secret. I remember it vividly. We were walking home from the park and she brought up the subject of Ben. I really didn’t want to delve into the topic, but I also didn’t want to be rude. Sammy had been really emotional at that particular time.
All of the sudden she started crying and her voice was muffled as her hands covered her face. She mumbled, “I…loved him.” At that moment it all came together and her soul was opened as if it were torn.
She crashed into me and I embraced her and simply said, “Come one, lets get home.” Together we walked home.
Sammy was the popular girl in school. She was liked by everyone. She had a specific group of friends that consisted of six or seven girls. Stacey Rosita was on of them. Ben Sandrik was always known to have feelings for Sammy. She had always tried to be nice to him, even if she didn’t feel the same way. I only wondered how long she was keeping her feelings inside of her. It made me hurt for her. She later told me that she used to pass notes with him, saying nice things. Now she nor anyone else would know what happened to Ben Sandrik.
*
It was September 11, 2026, when I turned fifteen years old. I was a sophomore in high school. I walked into class like it was a normal day, nothing different. I went through my first four classes, leaving biology, when the sirens went off. School security gathered we students up and shipped us to a building about a half an hour away. We had no clue where we were. Everyone was confused. Several were crying I was split from Sammy and was not able to find her.
We were all placed in a large room. Hours later the police and several parents entered. I first saw my mother. Following her was my father with Sammy. I ran tot hem yelling over the crowd questions expressing my confusion, “What’s going on?! We were just shipped out of school without any warning. We weren’t even told what happened or where were even are. What’s happening?”
My mother was in tears. She grabbed me, hugging me tightly. I looked to my father who was holding Sammy and asked again, “What’s going on?”
He answered, “There’s been attacks. Three planes were hijacked. Two crashed in a wheat field on the border of Pennsylvania and New York. The other crashed in…the town orchard. They had everyone from the town evacuate. Thank God you’re alright.”
“WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAVE TO HAPPEN?!” Sammy screamed. She had lost it. This was the end for her. Her world had been crushed too many times. She had her face buried in her hands, leaning on father.
*
The whole situation had left the world wondering. It brought up questions asked many times before. Ones that never seemed to have an answer. Questions like “When will the violence end?” or “Where does terror draw the line?” The world pondered over and over again. The only question I asked is, “When will someone do something about it?”
Ben Sandrik was bullied almost every day of his life. There might have been terror threatening the nation, and the world, but there was also terror in the town all because of the terror one boy had to face. It erupted into two deaths, one mentally ill man, a broken boy missing, and a broken town. I asked the question several times, “When will someone do something about it?"

[Samus610]

If I smile will you smile with me?
If I laugh will you laugh with me?
If I love will you love with me?
If I die will you live on?

Forbidden
Lips I can never kiss
Hands I can never hold
A body I can never embrace
A person I am forbidden to love

I scream to get his attention but my voice is gone.
I try to grab him but my hand goes right through.
I bleed just so that he will love me, but he doesn't even look.
I cry so that he will comfort me, but I only get ignored.
I kill myself just to see if he would care.
But nothing.
I am NOTHING.

Trapped
Victim to my own depression
Red water streams down my face
So close
So close to eternal rest
I'm afraid
But I can't take it anymore
'Slash'
The blood flows like a waterfall
I feel cold
Grim Reaper standing infront of me
Holding out his boney hand
I take it
And welcome my eternal damnation

[PanPacifist]

These two poems were a project for theater class.
We were supposed to write an epitaph for ourselves and one for another person, and they were supposed to be from the point of view of the dead person.
Mine are about myself and my future love.

Here I lay, down to sleep.
What was life but just a dream?
A nightmare of hate,
A web of pain,
And now it's over,
Gone with me.
I died a death no one should know,
Buried deep in the winter snow.
My love, he thought that I was dead,
When he buried my dizzy head.
And then I froze; the pain was great.
They tried to help, it was too late.
But the pain is gone, the peace has come,
I have become comfortably numb.

+++++++++++++

The last five years went by so fast,
I loved her so, I though we'd last.
But then my evil scared her away,
I can't believe she died this way.
By my hand her life did go,
Before I buried her in the winter snow.
And now, I'll take my life away,
In this final light of day.
I take a bottle of sleeping pills,
My body shakes with violent chills,
Now the pain is gone, the peace has come,
I have become comfortably numb.


Ten points if anyone gets the song/band I reference in those poems. =)

<3

[KazMaz]

Okay, here it goes......

I'm Already There

I can never comfort you,
The way a loved one should,
I'm with you in everything you do,
I pray that's understood.

When you need someone to talk to,
When no-one else will hear,
I'll always be there for you,
Sitting close beside you, near.

Don't ask me why I left you,
You can't concieve it yet,
I'm humbled to have known you,
I'm thankful that we met.

Just close your eyes and think of me,
If you're in need of care,
No matter what the cause may be,
I'm already there.

[Spark]

This is a narrative poem about two guys who gave "it" up to eachother. One is ashamed of it, one isnt....
.................................................. .................................................
Hand it Over....

Dont you
tell me what
i should
or shouldnt
or should have done
i’ll tell you what:
read between the lines
because thats all you’ll ever be good at
dont you
tell me that
i should be ashamed
for the crimes i commit
i’ll glady put the ‘cuffs on
because in the end
it was all worth it
in the end
im the one who enjoyed it
and now boy
dont you tell me
dont you tell me i didnt see
that smile on your face
i saw your lips curl
i saw your heart race
i know what you wanted
and to you:
i handed it over

[Sorkadubane]

very lovely are u on poetry .com i am my name is christon chambers. maybe we could share poetry?(&&&)

[aprilblue426]

Me and My Bike...Yes, now there's an intimate relationship for ya.

i think i'll do this
from now on
everyday after school.
jump on that seat
and transform into
a yellow streak
when the cars
are out of site, i
close my eyes and
nothing else exists.
that's all there is:
me,
the bike,
the wind,
the sky,
and the sidewalk down below me
blurring as i fly...



show me more

why don’t you want to be
part of my life?
part of me?
i’m talking to you
not with you
and you don’t notice
because you’re not listening.
you’re not part of me,
and you don’t want to be.
this is what you let me see.
you say you love me
you say you want me
but that’s not what you show me.
this is what you let me know
everytime you say to me
that nothing in life is gauranteed.
hopes are never
gauranteed.
that is why they
call them dreams.
that is why i’m
writing now
rhyming now
drifting away and
tuning everything else out.
you don’t believe in me.
you don’t think that
I could ever be enough.
this is what you let me see.


standard parting procedure (SPP: we’ve all been there.)

anxious, tugging feeling
drove right past my stop
where are we going?
back home for a while
so you could say goodbye.
break her heart al over again
just one more time?
fill the space with words and tension
you press me up against the glass
trying hard not to react
and make the situation
more unpleasant than it has to be.
lips form hard straight lines
while each of us watches the other
shooting laser beams with our eyes
creating a static shock
upon every touch within
three feet of each other and
the storm that lies brewing between us.
waiting to tear open the lips
and release that certain
string of words we all know
the other, while dying to hear them,
would rather die than speak them.
the noise of thoughts and radiowaves
is almost as unbearable
as this unbreakable silence.


unnecessary surgical procedures

pulse is steady.
liposuction?
for what?
what is there to suck away?
you want to
take away my
blue sky and
make it grey?
scalpol.
what’s
a scalpol?
duct tape, please.
close your mouth,
sew it together.
use it to
cover up the wounds.
a chicken fillet?
an orange peel?
too soft in the center.
might get hurt.
bruised?
no. tear and drip.
sucked dry.
nothing good
left inside.
liposuction?
no, thanks. i’ll take
a sex change.

[sparkyboyM]

i would paste my short story here, but i just posted it as a thread so rather than waste space, here's a link:
http://emptyclosets.com/forum/showthread.php?t=10707

...just tell me what you think!

[Steam Giant]

Nicole, those poems were awesome! I just love how very personal your poems are, to the point that I'm like, "yeah, that's how that feels!" ^^ great work!

sparkyboyM, I must appologize, I don't want to seem rude commenting on someone else and not you, but I don't have much time right now, heh, so I couldn't read your story. As soon as I'm able, I'll let you know what I think.

And thanks for bumping this thread, Nicole! Maybe I should take it as a sign and write something too, hehe!

[MusicIsLife]

Heres one of mine, probably the poem im most proud of. I would post one of my short stories but they're all fanfics, and it tends to be disturbing to people who arent into the fandom :P So here it is:

Shadowed Holocaust

Hell is not fire,
Hell is not flames.
Hell is this place I wake up in,
From a nightmare-filled sleep.

Hell is a small space,
I can barely move or stand,
And I watch helplessly as the cruel men take from me
My mother,
My best friend,
And my neighbours.

My best friend is dragged away,
He is screaming for his life.
He wonders what is going on, but they do not understand.
He is tied by his ankles,
His throat is slashed.
My best friend bleeds to death,
Thrashing and screaming for his life.
He is dead.

My mother is taken from me,
She is put in a cell.
Mother cannot move,
And she is afraid.
Mother cries, she is hurt.
Mother dies, alone with no one to turn to.

My neighbours are taken away.
They are crammed In tiny cages that reek of feces and decay.
Some are burned,
Some are beaten.
Some are barely alive.
They all die, there is no escaping.

I am weak,
I am dying.
Without the nourishment of my mother’s milk,
I feel death come for me, quietly, and I know God is smiling.

The corpses are packaged and sent away,
Quickly to avoid decay.
The bodies are displayed for all to see,
Little did they know we were shown no mercy.