Entries By Cam
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 121 Entries
The pile of magazines are outdated, old, and filled with has beens. The girl kicks her feet back and forth silently, a magazine about the latest trends for teens spread across her lap. She looks up at the clock, and then at her the white walls of the hospital.
“When’s mommy coming out?” She asks her father, head tilted curiously and innocently. Her father stays silent.Posted By cam On 08.28.2012 @ 5:28 pm
It burns so badly inside of him. The sights, smells, sounds of being an actual normal size overwhelm him and he curls up in on himself. Being equal is a far off dream to him, and all he desires is to be flesh and blood, a want that burns so so so fiercely inside his hollowed glass chest.Posted By cam On 08.14.2012 @ 7:12 pm
Oh my God you are the one who has created these Somethings out of undeterminable substances, collections of the earth’s dust and tears and Composed this duet of unspeakable longing to be united and to be connected and togetherness, give us this Lord, give us a life made no more of loose substance and instead of unbroken foundation. AmenPosted By Cam On 08.09.2012 @ 8:52 am
She is a short fuse, filled to the brim with light and thievery and deceit. You hold your ground in the form of flipped coins and the sweet sweet scent of JUSTICE. You and her are fuses that are crossed so tightly together you spark and clash all the god damned time.Posted By cam On 07.24.2012 @ 12:12 am
The smoke chokes his lungs, and he feels the warm drip-drip-dripdrip of blood trailing through his hair and down his face to drip off his cheek. He curses once twice and a third time before he spoke.
“God dammit, I mixed up the wrong fuses. Well, back to the drawing board!” he cackles with a hysterical choke whine of his laugh.Posted By cam On 07.23.2012 @ 8:40 pm
The cake is nearly done, and he is covered head to toe in all sorts of confectionery ingredients. His eyes dart around the dirtied kitchen, and he wonders in all of his thirteen years of living, if his dad would be proud of him for making the cake. “I miss you,” it reads in crooked blue icing.Posted By cam On 07.22.2012 @ 10:18 pm
The fingerprints are blurred, but she can smell the lies on her breath. She holds her head high, wide eyes unblinking as she stares at the suspects. A toothy grin crosses her face, and there is the smell of cerulean oceans and summer nights of a long disbanded perfume. “You’re guilty guilty guilty,” she croons, and her criminal sneers.Posted By cam On 07.20.2012 @ 10:31 pm
the rhythmic sound of boots echo in his head. his heart races sweat drips down his forehead and his muscles ache from crouching in the same position for hours. he watches the shadows pace back and forth, his nightmares his sins his faults all are on patrol tonight. he stops breathing.Posted By cam On 07.19.2012 @ 9:43 pm
Her throat burned the longer she screamed, and she wanted everything to stop. Stop stop stop stop her mind shrieked, over and over again. Her heart races at the sight of the crumbled metal, the twisted scraps all over the asphalt. Her heart shatters at the sight of him on the stretcher. A mantra repeats out loud. Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t die.Posted By cam On 07.19.2012 @ 1:56 am
He sits upon her shoulder, a small thing, a wisp of a being really. She doesn’t notice him often, and sometimes he gets lonely. Soon, however, her head turns to meet his eye and she asks him plainly, “Should I?” His heartbeat quickens and he advises her in the best way he knows how. “Take chances, you should give that thing a try.”Posted By cam On 07.11.2012 @ 7:44 pm
The arches and bends in the metal structure make your eyes wander. They focus on the swirling curls of the handrails, and you feel the warmth radiate from it. The sense of being small overwhelms you and your heart races, races, races. This is it. This is what you want to be, want to make, want to achieve—you want to be an architect.Posted By cam On 05.29.2012 @ 5:01 pm
You hate the sight of balloons. You can’t stand the colors, the brightness, the hues, the sheer amount of happy memories that get associated with the latex monsters. You remember the bad times, and how you lost him to a terrible thing—a disease that withered his mind into nothing.Posted By cam On 04.27.2012 @ 9:43 pm
The poster is ripped, multiple tears and blurred faces. Your eyes focus on nothing but the eyes that stare back. You can’t believe it, he did it. Your best friend, your bro, your boyfriend did it!! He was finally a famous DJ, and there he was, on your wall.
Your lips curl into a smile as you watch his shade-covered eyes stare down at you. You’re happy.Posted By cam On 04.26.2012 @ 9:02 pm
his heart is easily pinned there, just above his shoulder. his mercury colored eyes are always so easily read, just like his bleeding heart pinned tightly to his sleeve. there isn’t anything he’d change about that, he doesn’t mind his heart is an open book. it’s easier that way. it’s easier to brush off the hurt if his heart was out in the open.Posted By cam On 12.15.2011 @ 8:04 pm
the sound of the waves echoed in his ears. they sounded far off, distant. he’s standing on a board in the middle of the chaotic waves. he is a god. he is immortal. he tames the waves like a lion tamer, they crash and roar, but he never falls. he finishes and lands safely on the beach.
he breathes a single, lonely word, “radical.”Posted By cam On 10.22.2011 @ 9:50 am
Stacks of books, stacks of paper worlds and written romances. Stacks of my love piled high like dust on a long-abandoned mansion. You never wanted it, so I just… let it build. Stacked high like Rapunzel’s tower, with me trapped enamored at the top. Stacked and stuck.Posted By Cam On 10.10.2011 @ 7:05 pm
his shoulder blades are simply gaping holes. there’s dried blood, fresh blood, and in-between blood all over him. he’s sobbing, he’s crying, he’s miserable. how could he? he was such a horrible, terrible, frightful, disgusting creature—HIM WHO WAS ONCE GOD’S CHILD—is now a clipped winged angel, bound for the depths of hell.
he is bitter.Posted By cam On 09.09.2011 @ 11:29 pm
ruby red blood bubbles from his shoulders. tears stream down his face, disregard for whoever sees him in such a state. he doesn’t care he doesn’t care he doesn’t care—
HE DOESN’T FUCKING CARE.
his wings oh god oh god his wings are clipped and broken and torn apart all because he gave his heart away to someone—
WHO WASN’T HER.Posted By cam On 09.09.2011 @ 6:04 pm
there’s something between them. they aren’t as close as they were before. it frightens him. he doesn’t understand why she isn’t talking to him. why she isn’t smiling at him. why she isn’t near him any more. it frightens him. it frightens him so much.
there’s a division between them, and it’s breaking his heart in two.Posted By cam On 09.05.2011 @ 10:10 am
the girl’s cackling could be heard echoing off the stone prison she resided in. all she could do was sit and weave threads. not just ordinary threads, threads that connect lovers. she used to be happy. so so so happy with her lover until—
her thread’s been severed already. she’s bitter now.Posted By cam On 08.15.2011 @ 12:46 pm
silence. nothing stirred. my mind is eroding. what is going on? is this some sort of divine intervention? did i do something wrong? i’m being punished. i will be isolated forever and no one will save me. no one cares. this is my punishment for being insolent and ignorant.Posted By cam On 08.14.2011 @ 2:01 pm