Entries By cosmic
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 30 Entries
I can feel it in the air like that strange calm before the storm. something’s going to happen, he says. no duh, a storm. no, he says, something more a disaster, he says that’s specific. he frowns, just pretend, please. Fine. a giant turtle will eat all the grass in the entire world he scoffs, no. more like an apocalypse, when everyone in the world will hold their breath as that feeling overcomes them because they know something will happen and it will be bad and nothing will ever be the same. yes, like a storm. A worldwide storm? nothing ever the same? yes. you’re impossible.Posted By cosmic On 03.25.2013 @ 6:24 pm
Curtains blowing in the breeze, Footprints in the sand. you cannot go on in life,
so it is largely unplanned: you’ll gracefully cast yourself Into the silent, dark ocean.
there’ll be little commotion, soon overtaken by everlasting peace, as you lie upon the water
floating past this disease. to do this you were compelled: to end the anxiety,
so the water will make your body swell, and unrecognizable you’ll be, but swallow down the salty tears,
because you’ll finally be free.Posted By cosmic On 03.19.2013 @ 6:14 pm
Do you really think you can handle this? Sweetie, I wrote the book on lies so much sweeter than what is real Fantasies stay in a mind Can’t wait for it this time this is not true Ignorance is bliss and it will stay that way if I have a say you can’t handle the truth but I can’t handle these lies so buh-bye I’m gone with my dreams I’ve got the means You can’t escape your mouth is agape Have fun with the lies what a surprise (ever thought this is what you deserved? well I’ve observed, and you do. it’s the only thing about you that I know is true)Posted By cosmic On 03.18.2013 @ 6:12 pm
I am withering away like a dandelion in the breeze can’t you see? If I disperse in all the cardinal directions how will I ever be able to find myself again? You don’t understand health is everything and I am sick It’s not my fault, it’s this disease I’m tired of people telling me to get over it because I can’t when my body and mind are withering away, just one little breeze makes me sway, and a gust will surely make me fall and No one can save me if I am already rotting on the groundPosted By cosmic On 03.10.2013 @ 8:07 pm
I can still conjure your image straight from thin air (you took away my breath from the first day I saw you) Your eyes appear first crinkled like half-moons, brown like the dirt from which flowers grow, and in their mixed color I see your soul (mixed too) Then your smile laugh lines lopsided as if you laughed so hard once, you stretched your mouth, like a rubber tree, and it no longer fit right (in my nightmares your lopsided smile is a Glasgow grin) and it is gleaming, like a hook, I was caught instantly Then your cheeks, brighter than the sun reflecting off golden wood, gaunt as a dead garden but rose-red with laughter And your skin slowly sinks around these features filling in with bronze perfect as if you were a figurine And your hair blacker than a starless night, blacker than the darkest hour before rosy dawn, framing your face like the masterpiece it is. The rest never mattered because all I saw was your face all I ever see is your face (tear-stains still dripping down to your bloody,bloody face I’m sorry I ruined it so)Posted By cosmic On 03.01.2013 @ 9:24 pm
Everyone embellishes, so it’s fine if I do… right? just a little white lie innocent as the acid I swear I’ll never pour in your eyes just a little white lie who said darkness is bad, when white is the color of the snow that kills the grass just a little white lie harmless that’s a liePosted By cosmic On 02.24.2013 @ 6:17 pm
Don’t you see? This is an ocean You can’t escape Flail all you want Cry It doesn’t care It’s the ocean You’re just a speck of sand on a beach. You are nothing There are things bigger than you, stronger than you and there is nothing you can do. (but it’s okay because the sun will shine on your bloated body and maybe, somewhere, someone will cry over you and then you’ll return back to the earth like you were meant to [it gave you life now it wants it back])Posted By cosmic On 02.18.2013 @ 10:20 pm
This fatigue is taking over me This is my final decree. My head is clouded from lack of sleep All I do is weep and weep.
I wait for these meds to work out right, but time simmers so slowly this very night. No lover can withhold my pain, here I am doomed to remain.
I lie alone, trembling in my bed, there’s a pounding in my head demons use my body then wish to be let out I fear they’ll escape from my shouts.
The night leaks into day To sleep I have not been swayed There are no lullabies for me dark teeth gnashing is all I foresee
Perhaps when Winter’s darkness is gone, I’ll soon wake to Spring’s lovely song. You see, I am a Persephone, The seasons are an awful pass for me.
In Winter, I languish, nightmare-covered, Temptations and vices are my lovers, but Summer brings me back to life, I am the sun’s effervescent wife.
In this cycle I am caught, A lobster waiting to be bought, The seasons cycle, and it can’t be mend. (not with any amount of medicine)
based on seasonal affective disorder, nightmares,sleep paralysis and other sleep disorders.Posted By cosmic On 02.17.2013 @ 7:27 pm
I don’t try to hid behind a mask, This is really what I think, Well, I feel torn between two, I feel my mind is on the brink
Angels cry because of my ways, let out demons of mine I’d sworn I’d someday slay This is a war that has occurred before, been jotted down for centuries as lore.
A person’s mind is a battlefield, Lores’ authors acknowledge this behest, written on paper and stone, with bone or ink, Their minds seem to also be on the brink (I must not be as alone as I think)
Yet my demons know what I do and say, They’ve damned me as their prey, The Angels leave me, yet cry and moan, bordering on the brink, I’m still as stone.
Suddenly,there is a burst of insight, My demons still hang above me in my peripheral sight, and after the brink, the abyss looms below, but I now see I have a long way to go.
The Angels’ cries turn to song, maybe it’s been this way all along, maybe in darkness there is light Maybe the brink teaches you to fight.Posted By cosmic On 01.23.2013 @ 1:12 pm
I thought things would be different, but this feeling never goes away. I thought things would be better but hope is just so fake.
I thought there would be happiness but disappointment is left in my wake. I thought this feeling would disappear but it remains unwavering and near.
I thought I would find true love but I only found true doubt. I thought he would understand, but he excuses himself.
I thought I would be happy I thought things would be fine I thought everything would work out by about this time.
But I was wrong, and after so long… I’ve changed. Strange. I never thought I would become this, but depression brings such pain.Posted By cosmic On 11.17.2012 @ 9:56 pm
The wound was fresh in her chest. He could still hear those screams, echoing all around his skull, and he slowly slumped to the floor, dazed. Killing was easy, but the aftermath… that was hard. No more adrenaline. Just remorse, the picking up of a body -no a corpse, there was no spirit in it- and blood. Red, red blood. As red as Isis, as red as an apple, as red as giving into temptation.Posted By cosmic On 10.10.2012 @ 8:19 pm
When her depression was finally gone, she realized she could no longer write. She stared at her page filled with strange lines and signs and scratches of a pen, and realized she could never again turn what used to be letters and words into something meaningful.Posted By cosmic On 10.01.2012 @ 6:37 pm
Where are you? I keep looking and you’re not here. You never come. You’re late. Did your train get delayed? Did you catch the wrong plane? Are you in the wrong place? Are you ever getting here? You know, by the time you do, I might not even need you. Things could have changed. You could be of no use anymore. Timing is everything, really. And you just don’t seem to be very good at it.Posted By cosmic On 09.03.2012 @ 8:04 pm
Want? Ha. What I Want, I can’t have. That’s why it’s called a Want. If I already had it, I would no longer Want it. If I had needed it, and not gotten it, then I would not be alive. Why Want? What does it do? Does it give us hope for the future? Does it force us to see the next morning light, because our business is not yet done? Does Want give us aspirations to make life seem more linear, when in reality, life is a never ending circle, an ouroboros; and like that insatiable snake, our Wants are always our own downfalls through avarice. Why Want? It often becomes a circle of greed, but it moves us along to the next dawn. Want is not evil, I see that at last. No one is inherently evil, just inherently self-preserving.Posted By cosmic On 08.14.2012 @ 10:52 pm
I sat on the high banks of a stream, the current lazily twisting here and there. A frog plopped into the water, startled by my roaming hand, which was softly stroking a daisy nearby. My feet hung off the bank, allowing my toes to make small ripples in the water.The wind gently teased my hair until I had a halo of frizzies, and went on to softly caress my face. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, and I ripped the daisy out of the ground, dirt still clinging hopelessly to the daisy’s roots. The wind slapped my face, the water drowned my feet, and the frog emerged to the surface, dead.Posted By cosmic On 08.13.2012 @ 3:10 pm
It was just the concept of the thing. We hadn’t fought physically since we were little girls, so why was I so afraid? I screeched like a banshee and thrashed about like a captured wild animal. I climbed on top of the roof and tried to fly away. Maybe what scared me was the memories of other fights, with other sisters, ones with sharp knives and even sharper tongues. “Trauma,” he said, but I don’t feel traumatized. I just feel trapped. No where to go, even though that sharp sister is gone.Posted By cosmic On 08.12.2012 @ 5:31 pm
Saturday breezed in calmly that morning, and I leisurely awoke to the sun filling my room with light. Sleep cracked in my eyes as I opened them, and there was a sandy taste in my mouth. I sat up, slowly stretching my arms behind me. I was about to softly pad to my door, but I realized… HOLY CRAP LOOK AT THAT SPIDER! IT’S A FREAKIN’ TARANTULA! AHHH WHY IS IT ON MY PILLOW AHHHH! I SLEPT WITH A SPIDER NEXT TO MY FACE AHHHHH!!Posted By cosmic On 06.29.2012 @ 3:05 pm
Full warm bowl of soup, steam curls around your face, cold and red from hours in the snow, as you breathe in its intoxicating scent. Made especially for you by Baba (“You’re too skinny! Eat more! Don’t play outside in the winter! And never,never go outside with wet hair, you’ll catch a cold!”). Chunks of chicken, squiggly noodles, bits of carrots, and you slurp them up, feeling the hot liquid travel down your throat, slowly warming every part of your body. Dip in a bit of homemade bread, soak up the remaining broth and herbs, chomp, gulp, empty warm bowl.Posted By cosmic On 06.25.2012 @ 6:43 pm
Fractures. She broke me. (Fractures are all I can see) She split me in half. (and dared to laugh) So, I cracked and moaned, brittle like an old woman’s bones. She broke me, she mutilated me. She ruptured my brain, to make me just as insane. (The matter gushed onto the floor and I’m not in the right mind anymore) My whole life is in fractures.Posted By cosmic On 06.21.2012 @ 8:07 pm
The house was melting around its framework. Dilapidated steps led to a porch made of rotten wood, with huge eyes looking up from the cracks. The windows were all broken and cracked. The door was hanging by a half of a hinge at the top. A step inside, the furniture was torn and a rat scrambled across the room. An entire wall was open, showing only the wooden framework and insects writhing around. The house was melting.Posted By cosmic On 06.18.2012 @ 10:08 am
She had dreamed of a giant cathedral all her life. Four bluish domes congregated around a much larger, ornate dome. A brick church underneath, with elaborate designs. Stained glass of stately saints with odd eyes. She had dreamed of this cathedral all her life. But she stepped through the wooden doors, and all she could feel was the corruption of the place. There were true believers, but mostly believers of money and possessions and superiority. The beautiful, giant cathedral was a lie.So she went to a small church, a simple wooden one, clean but somewhat homely. There was peace built into the framework. There was no false grandness, only the grandness of the tiny alter. There were true believers. “Home,” she thought, “Home.”Posted By cosmic On 06.15.2012 @ 7:58 am
The old lady sat grumbling in her kitchen, noise assaulting her eardrums. Those stupid kids! Then, suddenly, she remembered: A big red ball. Running, chasing. Chubby,grubby little hands. Giggling, making a racket, And then a mean old lady, yelling at them.
So when the ball inevitably crashed through the cat door, she smiled instead. The kids knocked at her door anxiously. “Cookies?” she offered.Posted By cosmic On 06.11.2012 @ 10:34 am