Entries By Em
Displaying 91 To 120 Of 287 Entries
epiphany
She had a bright look in her eyes, as if coming to an understanding. “Yes, yes, I get it! I get it now!” She nodded frantically. “I know why you didn’t want to tell me.”
“No, no you don’t.” Maxxie bites his lip.
Posted By Em On 11.01.2011 @ 3:07 pm
spring
I sprang up from my chair. I could believe it, it was something that would happen to him but he just kept hurting himself. How? Rehab, and now a baby. How does he keep hurting himself? His family?
Posted By Em On 10.12.2011 @ 5:01 pm
braid
Her braids swished behind her as she swung. I pushed her further, higher and I heard young-girl giggles. I wasn’t used to this. I had never heard her laugh.
Posted By Em On 10.02.2011 @ 8:51 am
half
half i used to think that half my soul half my “reason i get up each day” half my “smiling for no reasons” half my “secret silent wishings” would always be because of you but things are different and i am now whole no more 50% for you my love adieu
Posted By Em On 09.29.2011 @ 9:26 pm
dense
In the matter of dense All tings considered a thought comes to mind and the word is dense in thought and matter and words and meaning
Posted By Em On 09.28.2011 @ 9:42 pm
port
you left me there unable to breath drawn inward in the sheer pain of the moment tears streaming down my face how could you you left me in this moment stuck at the airport with only my luggage in hand and no one was there no you left me there
Posted By em On 09.22.2011 @ 6:51 pm
crouch
Pain shoots up my spine as I drop into a crouch, the bullet barely grazing my shoulder. I bite my lip hard and feel the blood being to coagulate at the corner of it. Where did it all go wrong?
Posted By Em On 09.20.2011 @ 9:20 pm
bars
The notes flit by across the bars that contain your secrets. These bars they entrap you, enslave you. These notes are all you’ve ever know, all you’re going to know. Nothing else matters to you. You call music your one true love but music doesn’t live in those bars. You are just a prisoner to the sheet. Listen to the rhythms of your soul, make sense of all the shit in your life, let the feeling of love entrap you in it’s confines just like your bar staff prison cell. Find your music and sing it, kid.
Posted By Em On 09.09.2011 @ 7:33 am
existence
God, do you exist? I exist, he exists. Our existences mess each other up in the best ways possible. I don’t think it’s an accident, and if it is it’s the best accident ever. God, do you exist? Is your answer to my question found in this strong, deep love that keeps coming and going as ever consistently as the tide. For I am the moon and he is the sea and our magnetic pull is undeniable. Are you that magnetism? Though we try to fight it, though we try to make sense of our situation and say that it will never work, why do we keep finding our way back into each others arms, into each others hearts. God, do you exist? Are you the pain I feel every time he goes away, every time we miss an opportunity to express our love because the magnetism that pulls us together that it is too strong and we try to push away. I am broken on the inside God, one day I am happy, the next I am like the raging fire that eats up the land. I am torn between what is right and what is also right which contradict one another… I am torn between yes and no which are both right. To love from a far and to seize the next moment and take what is mine. Both are right in their own way. Both have pro’s and con’s. God, why are you testing me? I am afraid to fail again and never be happy again. Both answers are wrong, both are right, either way I fail. Either way I lose. God, why are you so selfish. Do you like seeing me fail? Do you like seeing me lose? Do you like see me bend this way and that only to be snapped off at the heart and do you like seeing me die over and over again? We’ve been through this before countless times every time I die more and more. I am barely a shell. What is it that you trying to get me to see. I love him. I want him. I need him. We can’t force ourselves away from each other, we snap back together at an alarming rate and it is almost more painful that trying to push him away. I don’t know what you want, God. I don’t know what to do, God. I don’t know if you exist, God. All I know is that my existence is tormenting me in ways that it shouldn’t. Love shouldn’t be this hard. Love shouldn’t have to have pro’s and con’s. Love shouldn’t have to have yes’s and no’s. I shouldn’t have to lose people over it, I should only gain. God, do you exist? I thought you were the all powerful, all good, all loving. Why do I only feel this tearing, ripping grinding feeling? Why am I the fire and the water? Why is my soul so perforated, so segregated, so prone to tearing apart? Is this you God? Is it true, am I created in your image? Was Judas a man or was he the black part of your soul that you condemned to hell because you couldn’t take the tearing and ripping in your soul anymore? If that is the case, you made a fatal error in your greatest creation which was mankind. Since we can’t rip that part of our soul out that causing us great pain, which is tearing us apart from the inside out we rip ourselves apart with drugs and alcohol and bad love decisions. We try to mend that rift, but only make it bigger. We howl at the stars in agony. God, why have you made this mistake? Is our life a test to see how we fare with this painful chasm that we cannot mend. Why are there people like me who cannot manage their mood, who’s chasm is deeper, wider and more turbulent that others. Why cannot be free to love the man I love with out tearing the rest of my world apart. If I love him, my chasm doesn’t hurt so bad, the rest of my world falls apart and I lose everyone else, if I don’t love him my soul rampages and tears itself to shreds and I am left half dead and barely a shell of who I once was. God, why do you torment me so? Why do you do this every time? God, I am not sure if you exist but I feel that I cannot be the soul reason for all of this confusion and pain, if you exist and you are this pain. You are confused, love is supposed to be a good thing, your love should be a good thing.
Posted By Em On 09.08.2011 @ 9:50 am
An exsister is a bad thing to be. Throw your arms in the air and get over it all. Live.
Posted By em On 09.07.2011 @ 2:35 pm
destruction
It was odd to think that such strong, tall walls – walls that had held countless memories of my childhood – could come down so easily. But they did. I stood helplessly and watched the stones hit the ground.
Posted By Em On 08.26.2011 @ 7:33 pm
succeed
The key to success is not in what you want to do. You can be successful in anything as long as you have the drive to finish what you start. The key to success is finding what you love and going at it wholeheartedly.
Posted By Em On 08.17.2011 @ 8:05 pm
boiling
Hot water in a pot, add a pouch of blueberry tea but it’s too hot for me to drink. But I love my tea, I need it. Can’t feel my mouth now, hot hot hot hot, can’t not drink my tea though, need to finish it, need the caffeine, need to stay up all night to finish my last project of the year. Must Pass. this is it, my future depends on the caffeine i ingest. Must finish my cup. Must finish…
Posted By Em On 08.02.2011 @ 8:29 pm
ill
The tiny creature mewled inside the box, pawing the already damaged cardboard with the frantic desperation only the horribly ill and awfully afraid can manage. The kitten mewled again as its claw lodged fast in the wall, and the poor thing became stuck in an uncomfortably warped shape. “FUCK THAT FOR A JOKE!” spat the adorable kitty.
Posted By em On 07.25.2011 @ 4:18 am
ticket
The piece of paper fiddled dangerously on the edge of the branch. A hand lurched from below, without quite reach enough, and groped desperately for the ticket. The shuffle of the leaves in response to the heave unsettled the ticket, and it danced gently groundward again to the music of a frustrated groan.
Posted By em On 07.23.2011 @ 5:43 am
maroon
it’s a kind of color. purplish. it’s deep and mysterious. it looks like wine. i think i have a shirt that is maroon. i always get compliments when i wear it.
Posted By Em On 07.07.2011 @ 1:04 pm
crane
morals
morals. I have none. I shoplift. I smoke weed. all that matters are other people. nothing else. everything else is stupid. whatever. morals are for prudes. do unto others as you would have others do unto you. it’s as simple as that. fuck ‘em all otherwise. if you don’t respect me then I won’t respect you. otherwise I’ll love you.
Posted By Em On 06.26.2011 @ 11:34 pm
history
The past is important to understand, however we must learn from history what mistakes to avoid repeating. An individual has a history; every mark, every memory; there is a story behind these. There is a history, and what is history but a story in itself
Posted By Em On 06.23.2011 @ 2:45 pm
held
Kurt held Blaine’s hand softy, using his other hand to swipe a tear away before it fell down his cheek.
“You were supposed to wake up today,” he muttered softly. “I was going to be so happy, and you… you were going to love me, and hold me, and…”
Posted By Em On 06.19.2011 @ 2:43 pm
belief
wonder
i wonder why i’m doing this. writing is about wondering. fiction, creation, everything is a product of wonder. wondering is an intelligent, inquisitive curiosity. seeking answers. wonde
Posted By em On 06.17.2011 @ 4:14 pm
plaid
sideburns
Elvis. Mustaches. I think of strange men with Mullets. I really hope they aren’t coming back into style, that’d be horrible. When I think of mullets I think of Billy Ray Cyrus, and I’d really rather not. I think of old timey music and sequins.
Posted By Em On 05.29.2011 @ 5:42 pm
pretzel
Delicious. Warm, soft, chewy.
Dipped in chocolate, wonderful.
Baseball games, childhood. Gramma’s house.
salty, sometimes I wish the world was pretzels.
Posted By Em On 05.23.2011 @ 8:10 am
thief
you me everything around us.I like it.and I don’t know exactly.crying.hated.ura.crize.mereu tot eu.mie somn.
Posted By Em On 05.23.2011 @ 11:30 am
domestic
It’s like an argument but at home I suppose and when some one has one you never quite know hoe to help them or if indeed you are supposed to help them. It also makes me think of cats like little home tabbys and what not. I suppose thta’s fairly odd isn’t it. Oh, and ironing. I always think of ironing in the 70′s. Like in old British houses on dank streets where the husband works down a coal mine and the woman stays at home all day looking after the kids and running errands. The kids are always dirty 10 years old school boys in my mind.
Posted By Em On 05.21.2011 @ 7:58 am
curious
one word try i have to try but i can’t. because trying is much to hard for someone like me i want to escape but i’m a coward always a coward a wibbly wobbly timey wimey coward did you get the doctor who reference? i like doctor who i’ve always wished i was the doctors companion
Posted By Em On 05.17.2011 @ 6:26 am
crew
The guy who invented the crew cut must have been pretty sick in the head, because all I ever seem to see are guys who have skulls shaped like bowling balls or Mr. Potato Head. In fact, I say we rally together — all of the rest of us who have misshapen heads, to unite under the flag of Not Looking Silly, in order to lead a revolution against crew cuts and bad haircuts everywhere!
Posted By Em On 05.09.2011 @ 1:05 pm
