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Lullabies are generally calming songs and laments that help you sleep. As we get older, these once peaceful melodies become somehow ironic as they are used in horror story backgrounds. Nobody trusts them anymore.

Posted By Alison On 05.19.2013 @ 3:10 pm

One time I signed a piece of paper stating I wanted to get a divorce. It was the best and worse thing that I ever did. I do not regret it, nor do I show it off like it’s great. He and I just weren’t meant for eachother although I did love him.

Posted By Alison On 05.18.2013 @ 4:51 pm

auburn feathers float across the rifts of wind whispers, and angel speak

Posted By Alison On 05.13.2013 @ 10:18 am

Moon, loom, spoon. Alispoon. That is my name when I type funny. How much do I have to write? I can’t keep up. I’ve started knitting. That’s related to ‘loom’, right?

Posted By Alison On 05.11.2013 @ 5:42 am

George loved having lunch at the cafe, it was his one true pleasure on a Wednesday.

This day however, was going to be far different from all the others that he had spent there – this day he was going to meet Sally.

Posted By Alison On 04.22.2013 @ 1:06 pm

leverage seeping deeper want to gain control, she does the situation and the circumstance hold too much over her nimble, shaking body leverage, oh leverage this is her plea to grab hold of the slippery to seep deeper, to be free

Posted By Alison On 04.15.2013 @ 1:04 pm

the dashboard sits, and

waits.

to be cracked, or somehow broken into swallow-size pieces or scintillating smithereens

the dashboard waits all by its lonely. its eyes have already broken

the sun is far too blinding

and harsh

when exposed to such a degree of impenetrable plastic.

the dashboard sits, and

waits,

waits,

(wants)

to be broken.

Posted By Alison On 04.09.2013 @ 6:53 pm

luminescent, pearly grapes cling to the vines the vines weave across the veranda framing the sturdy brown-brick house with delicacy something is off the sturdy and the delicate don’t match well neither do the baby-shine grapes and their mangled, rotting seeds

Posted By Alison On 04.04.2013 @ 5:37 pm

i eat those for breakfast. they’re soft and you put cream cheese on them and then you eat them after you maybe put them in the toaster if you want but if you don’t they’re good either way so you can just always put some motherfuckin cream cheese or butter on that bitch however you want it and it’ll taste just as good. sometimes when i’m hungover i will eat the bagel by itself and i will break off little pieces to absorb the acid in my stomach. bagels are juts so bagel like.

Posted By alison On 04.03.2013 @ 8:59 pm

What is destiny? Destiny is only an illusion in which people use to make each other think we all truly have a point in this life. Destiny is “what was meant to be.” It’s people’s excuse for bad things happening for no reason.

Posted By Alison On 03.26.2013 @ 8:29 pm

destined to be apart. yes, maybe that’s the case. you always hear the opposite… but what about a turn of fate?

Posted By Alison On 03.26.2013 @ 12:20 pm

it was a calamity in the fact that the reds were almost brown things touched each other so intensely that everything was one and that was the calamity that individualism that identity, and idiosyncrasies were lost in the sea of melting reds, and almost browns almost anything except singular, and proud

Posted By Alison On 03.25.2013 @ 3:45 pm

sometimes listening is the most powerful of companionship listening to the windows and the waves, and to the conversation erupting from the table next to the window listening to intentions behind the word - what is said, and what is not listening not only with ears wide open - but with hearts and minds, both empty and full empty of judgement and full of love and curiosity

Posted By Alison On 03.24.2013 @ 5:53 pm

the boots were shiny, with softly crinkled brown leather and shiny gold clasps on the outsides. she wore them with embarrassment, afraid that they were too fancy, and afraid that they brought too much attention to her elastic-clad, jiggly thighs

Posted By Alison On 03.23.2013 @ 4:23 pm

winged people sweeping up clouds winged unknown bids and people and clouds and sweeping wings winged angels fluttering and wishing and hoping for something

Posted By Alison On 03.22.2013 @ 7:46 am

beware of the children they are not as happy as you think beware of their chicanery, and jelly-spilt mouths words of far greater wisdom spring out of those wells, with a tongue as a bucket far wiser than you would think beware of the children they are not as naive, or as simple as you think

Posted By Alison On 03.20.2013 @ 5:52 pm

He said goodbye, kissed her on the cheek one last time and then turned around and walked away. She watched as his car drove away and the minute it was out of sight…her heart was ripped from her chest as she dropped to the ground in tears.

Posted By Alison On 03.19.2013 @ 11:38 pm

Everything that has ever hurt in life. All of the past pain, future pain, and present pain. This all has come to the fore front of your mind and now all you fell is pain. You are no longer a person…you are just pained.

Posted By Alison On 03.19.2013 @ 11:25 pm

window panes shudder, brushing off frost sobbing softly, only shaking after the house is asleep pained shoulders and glass panes of weary outlooks melt the pain, like window panes sobbing softly in the dark

Posted By Alison On 03.19.2013 @ 3:01 pm

Sometimes the truth hits Like a splicing spear-headed curveball, Rushing ahead of cavernous wind-tunnels, Barreling onto home-plate in a barren, mud-caked field - Smack! Like the only full-strung hitter In this endless hard-hit season

Posted By Alison On 03.18.2013 @ 5:41 pm

Sometimes cities stink like bones Bones of the weary – of those people whose little treetop lives just jump from party to party, and internet browser to magazine These bones that cities stink of Are the most pathetic sort of scene

I cry – Run between the treetops, Don’t just flutter!

So these cities that we’ve created and relished - the ones that smell like bones?

Paint them with your honesty and energy And reckless spontaneity

Posted By Alison On 03.17.2013 @ 3:33 pm

overtly inanimate like the pale blue clock that sits on my desk and my canary yellow doll from hungary overtly inanimate like the tiled kitchen sink and my leather moccasin shoes

Posted By Alison On 03.15.2013 @ 5:07 pm

blasted youth and blasted burns sunscrapes and scars from skateboards and not enough sunscreen too much uv ray exposure, not enough shelter the youth, they are a science experiment of the greatest chemist ever known blues and purples mix in a concoction of blasted bubbles the delicate vile on the brink explosion blasted youth of today these moments, gasping for air in the busted up car going just a hair too fast blasted radio accompanied by singing close to screams the sun just keeps on burning without forgiveness, without drink blasted youth and blasted burns the youth, they keep on taking

Posted By Alison On 03.14.2013 @ 4:25 pm

eternal flame of youth sizzle inside me, i beg eternal flame of the tomorrows of yesterday dance in the hearth of my mind inspire energies of activity, passion, and spite. eternal flame of the unknown intellect, i praise you, and i ask for your presence, always in this hearth of my mind and this chimney that is my mouth - this smoke that disintegrates into the tips of my fingers eternal flame of adventure and breeze i ask you to stay, please i will provide as much firewood as you need, dear flames dear eternal flames of youth i will build shelter with tear-drenched pages of used novellas and i will kindle jazz and hip hop into the caverns of your blue lights i will run upon the dirt and i will kick up sand in the ocean if that should appease you, eternal flames of youth

Posted By Alison On 03.13.2013 @ 6:46 pm

So many additions To this list of a life This and this Also that And me too And him, her Everything, it seems Is another comma or parenthesis My list grows bigger everyday This life it seems, Is a superfluous type of thing

Posted By Alison On 03.08.2013 @ 3:45 pm

They returned to the place where they had met Rumpled bed covers and strewn shoes Car honking in the background

But once they had returned The realized

Time can never regress The bed must be made The shoes must be laced

Time can never return

Posted By Alison On 03.08.2013 @ 11:09 am

The traffic light Breathes green And exhales red Signals me to accelerate Push, but not too light And not with too much force Machine of destruction Signal Stop

Posted By Alison On 03.06.2013 @ 6:15 pm

flames that quiver in the twilight beckon heat beckon lovers fee to the fireplace

Posted By Alison On 03.05.2013 @ 12:16 pm

sheep that squeak in the valleys of thunder lambs praying for something more, something better shepherds caving in this valley is strong no more shepherds echo in that valley of sheep squeaks, and lamb prayers thunder something better

Posted By Alison On 03.04.2013 @ 12:38 pm

It has instilled in myself fear; fear of nothing; fear of being alone fear of observing absolutely nothing in my life time. I dont want to be the zombie and I dont want to be the one who is left besides themselves.

Posted By alison On 03.02.2013 @ 5:02 pm