0
This definitely isn't finished yet, so any opinions or critiques are welcome


From this storytelling tile, a place not lost
But Ive been gone awhile;
Inhabiting walls Scrawled with seduction and sweat,
Raising glasses to the ink smeared
Over the mirrored oubliettes
Of my irises.
This hell of ecstacy and liars passions
That call for the seizure of the ace of hearts
For he has...
Read More
0
This could become something...fair warning, it has not been proofread at all...


The water was hot, nearly painfully so. It poured from the showerhead and instantly filled the tiny bathroom with steam, banishing the chill that had resided in it so recently. He felt the water scorch his skin red, felt his body respond as capillaries, arteries, and veins expanded increasing his blood flow and...
Read More
0
This could never have a title


My unilateral love speaks in silence
Lyrics and looks.
I may be oft confused
But you libertarian love
Intimidates me.
My envy is not green.
But a vibrant, passionate red,
Like a burning apple
Clutched in Adam's scorched hand.
But he did not let go.
May I be half the man.
Stolen kisses in dark corners
Or when no...
Read More
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
suzika:
no problem.
gogoponypanic:
With the whole daily grind of work I was into for the past 2 years I've really lost touch with writing, but now I hope that'll change with my new job working 7-3:30. So maybe I'll have some halfway decent stuff to share in not too long.
0
Full Circle

I've known a harsh mistress
She never let's me sleep alone
Having left her brand
On the insides of my eyelids
In a manner of speaking
Her beat and my heart beat in rhythm
But always hers
My heart racing to keep up
And step, turn, twist, dip
So far down
Music is my girlfriend, my dance partner
She keep me servile step...
Read More
0
Perhaps, I have probably left at least a few women in my past with a feeling of being wronged (even if I think they wronged me) who's to say who of us is right. Feelings have no attachment to fact. But I can honestly say that I was fully invested in every relationship I've had, I tend to do that with a lot of things....
Read More
suzika:
I can relate, incredibly so to the way you described 'it'.... I myself throw myself with out haste because it's just who i am as a person. I guess the difficult part is seeing who is worth investing your 110% for and trying to gain a perspective on the person as much as you can before doing so... sounds simple right, but we all know it isn't. hmm.
0
Letters for Truth (viva la revolucion)

I'm being arrested for harassment.

Mrs. Lavigne didn't want to know that she belongs in a shopping mall
All in pink and pre-pubescent boys.

Ms. Winfrey didn't care to hear that she was a hack. She doesn't want to stop capitalizing on her misfortunes. Or profiting off those of those who idolize her.

Bono did not like hearing that...
Read More
0
This avenue is cold and cobblestoned
I do not assasin down it
for I fear the tempo my boots beat
will be heard as I follow
in your footsteps
as they lead to your door.
But why go where I have been before.
A nasty rhyme I did not mean,
but coincidence is my metier.
But I digress, standing at your door.
I never knock,...
Read More
twelve:
If you wrote that, I like it.

Well, I mean, even if you didn't, it's pretty cool.

But you know what I mean.
0
The world goes on, even though I feel like it shouldn't. The world though, does not feel as I do. I sat outside and chainsmoked my way through the rest of my cigarettes and thinking of what I'd done today, all the triviality that flashed through my mind. Taking for granted that everything was alright. I sat and smoked and watched all the people around...
Read More
maee:
thats very well writted
0
Five's and Seven's

Cobblestone streets just don't do it for me
Not like cold, smooth pavement
without character or mercy
I blame my boots, they just don't
sound the same on soft things.
I need to be able to hear my demons
Just under the surface
In every footstep.
From her doorstep
With it's seven steps down
But only five up
The farther to fall...
Read More
0
One of mine,

My favorite jacket hangs in my closet, I never wear it.
It is old, far older than I, A gift from my uncle.
On the back there is a skull with a big purple Mohawk.
The man who painted it was stoned and demanded twenty dollars.
My uncle didn't ask for the skull, or the purple Mohawk,
and especially not for the...
Read More
twelve:
I think this expresses how I feel. frown