Sometimes, I don't want words of comfort when I'm sad.
Sometimes, I don't need someone to try and dry my tears.
Sometimes, I just want someone to be here with me.
Sometimes, I just need a shoulder to cry on.
Late Night StudyingAgain and again my eyes would scan a line, but this late in the night the words stopped registering. Stopped making sense. My eyes felt dry and heavy, and then there was the yawning.
“I’ll just rest my eyes…” I’d taken to mumbling things to myself. The silence of the texts were driving me mad. “Just for a second,” I insisted.
But it wasn’t for just a second, and I knew it was foolish of me to believe it. What woke me was the clock tower above me striking the hour. Four loud bongs then silence. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stared at the pages in front of me. None of it made sense and I sighed. Then yawned. I sat up leaning backwards, pressing my hands to my eyes, perfectly content to drift off to sleep again.
“You should get some sleep.”
I know… I thought to myself. And then I realized the one speaking was not myself and jumped.
“Arcturus!” I yelped, turning in my seat to face the nosey, big-no
In a Split Second There was a split second of pain, and then all the feeling was gone. For a while everything had gone dark and I stopped thinking. Next to come was the feeling, and then my mind to register the feeling was there. I tried to remember what has just happened, what strange dream I had last night.
I had been flying. Yes. I could feel the wind in my feathers, the rush of air of my face, the adrenaline. But no, something wasn’t right. I wasn’t flying, I was falling. Plummeting from the Sky. The panic took hold of me, I was paralyzed. My senses were heightened yet I couldn’t understand what they were telling me. There was whistling in my ears, they popped as I dropped like a rock, the fall feeling like forever and yet the ground came all too fast. I relived my death and plunged back into darkness.
I was shaking, my heart, I think it was my heart, was pounding. I couldn’t calm down there was no escape
Country in Crisis TeaserAutumn. Such a beautiful time. Such a perfect time.
It had always been Terra's favorite. Just when it seemed as though the summer sun would never relent, the weather felt cooler. Breezier. Still warm just not hot. Even in a humid area like her own, it felt cool and relaxing.
But of course, not everyone could find this simple pleasure. To find peace and serenity through nature. But she was an earth. She, like all in her country, controlled an element. An element that was passed down from generation to generation through genetics. She controlled earth.
Earth. Most people think just the dirt and grim. And then again that's what most earths controlled, but this was where she stood out. She had a rare gift. One that allowed her control of plants and their growth. Because of this gift, every time Terra went outside, she couldn't help but stop and let nature overwhelm her. Especially now.
Autumn. Her favorite time of year
Walking down the path to a place unknown, Terra closes her eyes.
ii.You stitch seams. You know how to stitch your skin together after your dad hits you. Your mother taught you what thread is best for fixing yourself. She taught you in the way of you had to learn yourself because she never did it for you. She is your homeostasis. Your father keeps your blood running. Your father buys you makeup because you have to cover the bruises.
You love your parents.
You seal every cut that you make with clear nail polish because it's cheap and it stings and it's toxic and maybe you'll die faster. Your mother taught you how to paint your nails before she taught you how to keep yourself from landing on the floor after every hit. The more you cut the less you bleed. The hair doesn't even grow back anymore. The cells have begun to protest the abuse like the way you do not. You love your parents. They provide you with everything you could ever want. There are three basic human needs, your AP
Open Letter You and I are very rare.
Third generation Asian-Canadians makes up less than 1% of the total population. From an early age we learned to wear three masks like Nezha. I am Canadian. Je suis Canadien. 我是加拿大人。
The grass gives off a crimson light on either side and I’ve been trying to stay safe in the the sidewalk between them but I’m at the edge. Or maybe I’ve already fallen off and I’m just a being of nothing nothingness. I’ve already gotten accustomed to being in nothingness. Been reading Descartes and Kierkegaard and I can’t fathom the mathematics behind happiness.
Two fugitives ran away from home and conceived
Trinity I find myself by circumstance at a loss. Bereft of words plentiful and meaningful enough to utter the praises that all of you so rightly deserve. I have but one opportunity to express just how much you have come to mean to me and why. The clock faces me, oblivious to my frustration while every tick serves to repeat the same reminder. You are running out of time, it says. You had best hurry if you want to meet this deadline.
I thought of writing a series of poems, each one a tribute to the ones I admire and have come to love. Even then, the words just couldn't come out. I thought of creating six word stories, one for each person. Again, the words would not manifest. How to sum up in six words all that you have done and continue to do to this day?
At length, I decided to simply write out how I feel in a letter of sorts. And even with an unlimited word count, I would struggle for days, weeks even to reach out to all of those I have befriended
Me enamoreMe enamoré de ella de forma lenta y sin darme cuenta.
Primero: Conociendo sus facetas traviesas y divertidas.
Después, conociendo aquella parte; esa parte de ese bello ser humano que nunca nadie había podido
tener el privilegio de conocer.
Me enamoré de ella, lento; y después de forma abrupta y fuerte.
Fue sin querer. Sin que ella lo pensara y sin que yo quisiera…
Ella me enamoró; con sonrisas, con lágrimas, palabras y compañía. Ella me enamoró con besos, caricias y miradas. Ella me enamoró; con silencios, regaños y abrazos… Ella simplemente se entregó a mí con el temor latente de lastimarla; con ese temor que todo ser humano, que todo individuo tiene al correr el riesgo de enamorarse, pese a todo eso; ella se enamoró de mí.
¿Cómo es posible? ¡Qué se enamore de alguien como yo!
De alguien tan obsesivo con detalles pequeños y minuciosos.
on breaking and unbreakingand play your favourite song on repeat, on stereo, in the car, through your headphones, blast it loud and whisper it through speakers, the song that you would listen to when crying, when your tchaikovsky of a heart is splintered into pieces, the song that connects you to a hundred, a thousand other splintered hearts, and keep playing it, keep playing it until you write it when you're waiting for the bus, lyrics on skin, until you sing it in your sleep, until your mind flinches away from that first opening sequence, until the words are sour in your lovely, lovely mouth, until the sound of it brings your splintered heart to life just so it can refuse to beat in time to the music.
and once you have done this, remember how you loved it. and remember how they loved you. and remember that you haven't really changed, and the music hasn't really changed, but it isn't the right song anymore. it isn't the one you play when you're crying or when your heart is splintered.
remember when your heart
UntitledTo Scot Ford, my father:
I'm aware that you can read this on my DA account.
I know that you will be disappointed if you're not already, but I'm done with the spying, the constant pleas for help when you know I cannot do a thing to help.
I'm done reliving the emotional torture you put me through, the lack of pay with the excuse that I get free food (something that all other restaurants do for their workers), the hypocrisy you fed to me, my sister and my mother.
I'm finally done putting up with what you've become.
The days where you and I had fun going shopping, shooting firearms and talking like men. I don't know what made you change, but I wish you never left for the Philippines. See women from 18+ sites and more.
I miss the man you were, not the man you are now.
I'm sorry to say this, my heart is heavy, but I need to move on with my life and I can't have you tying me down anymore. You gave me enough emotional trauma to last a life time.
Don't say anything to me, I won't hear it anymor