Elementriss

sara

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Literature

warning: depressing

it's one of those moods where, if you were to paint the panic, you'd have to use your own blood just to make the colours honest. one of those moods where road kill does nothing to your insides and you can imagine every car on the other side of the road colliding into you. does it make you shiver? nope. one of those moods where your eyes hurt from crying and your eyelids are so heavy with these bullshit emotions. one of those moods where you ask yourself, "what is one more cut anyway." it's the mood you feel after your mother calls you ugly and you know if you do just one thing to set her off, you'll get kicked out of here. which, at this poi

poems and stories

119 deviations

warning: depressing by Awasteof-paint, literature

Literature

warning: depressing

left on your answering machine by ChloroformBoy, literature

Literature

left on your answering machine

Listen, okay ? Close your eyes and listen. Are they closed ? Good. Now keep them closed and picture me next to you: I want to be with you so much. When you're with me, holding me in your arms, all I want to do is just stay like that, with you, forever. Then you leave. And as soon as you're gone, I miss you. And when I miss you, as pathetic as this sounds, I just keep thinking about you. And I realise that you could probably have anyone you want. And I wonder why you'd ever settle for me. And this makes angry and jealous and hate myself and just ugh. I don't want to be your burden. You see, whenever I talk to somebody as much as

M_SS_NG by ChloroformBoy, literature

kill two promises with one lie by ChloroformBoy, literature

Literature

kill two promises with one lie

it was the day i swore to never love anyone; i heard doves chirping goodmorning lullabies to some deaf pigeon. i opened my window, and shot them twice. once, because they are wasting their time and mine. so why not put them out of their misery? then once again, because at six am, i do not want any fucking birds making noise or making love or making a mess of my mind as i try to sleep another dreamless night. one for every damn bird in this cyan-scribbled sky. two for every earaching coo. three for every winged beast singing elegies that remind me of gods that remind me of holidays that remind me of the times you lie

what about the other 16 words? by ChloroformBoy, literature

the air i breathe by ScaredAmbitious, literature

Literature

the air i breathe

i never thought it would be you, but more and more i want to tangle you up in my brain like swirls of smoke from an exotic pipe. you're the drug i'm not addicted to, but keep going back to for more, more, more. okay, i lied. i am addicted to you. you're my gateway drug to love, and you'll linger in the bottom of my lungs forever. it all started when we were children. we didn't know back then that putting up with each other because we had to would turn into slipping off alone together. we didn't know that arguing heatedly in our shrill kid's voices would become whispers in the dark. we didn't know back when we were young, like brilliant stars

quench the thirst by MaireeMargaret, literature

Literature

quench the thirst

i've got a thirst to quench, a means to an end, a rage that needs to be put out, a fire that needs to burn. i don't see syllables or nouns or verbs or prepositions, i see poetry in the making. i see power in the blank sheets of paper. i see a world of possibilities. good things come to those who wait; fuck, i've waited too long for these days to come. i've been in line for longer than my brain can remember and all this stand still fever is going straight to my bones. sometimes i've got to just let go, and sometimes people get on the wrong side of my outbursts. and some people hate me for telling them what's what. fuc

disaster theatre. by LostWithinDreams, literature

Literature

disaster theatre.

i paint kaleidoscopes on the bottoms of soda cans. i take my brushes, drenched with man-made colours, and spread them out like a towel on the beach. the scents waft in the breezes and invade my nose like the european powers on native american land. i hum a song in time with the willow whispering lovers and they allow their branches to become parts of my piece. then i often stand up and throw the newly shifted hue onto the blooming boulevards. i abandon my brush for my palm palettes and make hand-print patterns on the walls. you watch me often, and say: "you're doing it wrong. yellow doesn't go with brick, just like your heavy sighs and ach

ticking time-bomb heart by ScaredAmbitious, literature

Literature

ticking time-bomb heart

I hate the rain. Its bleak wet splatter stabs with chills that make teeth chatter, and I hate with passion giving speeches, they freeze me up. I say, to each his own, and it's not mine and never will be. Nor is dancing when the hardwood floor is watched by hard-eyed peers and critics. Their stares strangle; my poor heart ticks like a time-bomb. I hate singing when the silence stares back, ringing. Then I met him. His sunlight smiles set me free and taught me that the rain can be nature's massage; its raindrop fingers tickle with a love that lingers. With speaking out, he gave me ease. He taught me tricks, how to unfreeze, and

a saskatchewanian's rant: by MaireeMargaret, literature

Literature

a saskatchewanian's rant:

i am loud and proud of where i'm from. saskatchewan is a part of who i am. i am not a redneck, i am not a macho lesbian, and i am not a stupid incestal girl. i am smart. i like to have fun. and i don't care what you think. saskatchewan is boring, i'll give you that. and honestly, why in the hell would anyone come here for a vacation unless you had friends or family here? unless you know someone from saskatchewan, it's going to suck. i'll be the first to admit that. but, just because it's flat farmland doesn't mean this place isn't beautiful. i've been to alberta, i've been to manitoba, i've been to ontario, i've been to the states, i've bee

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