The sea flowed out around us. We were watching the waves go by and we were laughing and dreaming about having dinner on the other side of the world. I would watch as the clouds floated by. I felt as if we were on another planet, hell, we were.
Chris Young
Heat rose up from the black road, the images wavering against the distant hills. She could feel the deep influence of the sun burning up on the thin soles of her sneakers.
The little squiggles in my vision during an aura, look similar to the movies’ version of a mirage. That is the heads up that migraine is about to come crashing in and ruin my day.
Drivven Wrinth
it was impossible to tell what was real and what was mirage for the dust had risen higher than the line of th e horizon and tweeked her perception into question.
juls
The waves of heat flashed across the desert horizon. He kept glancing in all directions, searching for some sign of life or shade. The sun was slowly sinking, the heat being dragged down with it. He thought he saw something to the left. He looked over, and suddenly a pool of water appeared surrounded by trees of magnificent heights bearing a kaleidoscope of fruits. For a second a false hope went up inside of him, but he had to force himself to remember that it was a mirage.
I could see it, glimmering in the distance. I knew it was out there. I could practically taste the sweet, sweet water as it passed through my lips, and I knew if I got there, my thirst would be quenched.
Jada
was he seeing things, was that really donghae in front of him or another mirage to take up his hope and break his heart again. hyukjae didn’t know but either way there was him right in front of them and he looked no different than the day he was in the casket, about to be buried. none of there others seemed to be able to see him, so perhaps he was not actually there. but hyukjae had no way of telling. because a car passed between the two of them and by the time it passed donghae, or whoever that was, was suddenly gone. and hyukjae was along again…
Rosetta
The trees floated over the sand, shifting and fading. Sara crawled towards them, praying that they weren’t merely a mirage. The sand was hot and dry and Sara’s tongue was sandpaper against her lips. The trees were closer, gaining substance and becoming more defined. Trees meant water. Thank God.
how to survive the Apocalypse
step one, love everyone who’s survived, even if you hate them
step two, be blind to the ties that bind
step three, look at every mirage like it’s reality
step four, yes, there’s more
step five, stay alive or at least try
step six, die in a ditch
Matty M.
shimmering in the desert this only makes me think about thirst… but for what even. what a weird fucking word
Today I don’t feel like writing about the word. It is surely not a mirage what I’m feeling. And I surely do not like thinking it might be.
The distance is too much to bear and still we have somehow managed to do it.
My heart rate increases whenever our eyes meet, whenever your smile shows, whenever your laugh echoes. I am changed everytime you are sweet, chills crossing my whole body while my inside burns; and I feel warm…. warm as never before.
And yet it is cold. It is cold outside, the distance being a tight ice cage around me, the time the shackles around my heart. And you…you are the fire burning inside me attempting to free me from them, but simultaneously pulling them tighter, and tighter, and tighter.
My saviour and torturer, are we a mirage?
there was never anything there. i realized it after i had already searched the whole world for something that i had thought would become clear to me once i saw it… but i suppose not. i suppose i was pretending. i suppose it all was fake.
he wasn’t even real-
i thought i had seen him for a split second, somewhere in the back of my mind i was convinced of it. sweet smiles might have been exchanged across a crowded room but they had disappeared, flickered away like a candle in a hurricane and we were so caught up in other things that we forgot to remember we were even there.
Rachael
Ripples of water
on sun-kissed pavement–
I am on a road trip to nowhere
Lauren
our love was a mirage – a distant fantasy that i kept trying to grasp. once i actually reached the spot of close interaction with you – i realized it was all an illusion. we don’t have chemistry, we don’t have any passion for each other. i was desperate, searching for something that wasn’t there.
i was sitting across the room, knees up, head in my hands, my eyes peeking through. what i saw was beautiful twisted and contorted in some sort of majesty. when i reevaluated what i saw i realized, it was just a mirage.
babe
The mirage of the hotel wobbled and wavered for just a moment, but after Claire blinked, it was as if she were staring at an oil painting, the smears never melting away from the wall illusions and tricks of the doors and windows. For something that was a mere glitch of the eye and mind, the hotel felt very real – and very, very welcoming.
Belinda Roddie
A ghost looms over me,
Fingers imprinted on heavy shoulders,
Markings of a past revised repeatedly.
Misfortune hollows the weary soul:
When the hourglass drips its last
I shall be no more.
And for you,
a new mirage is born
anonymouse
it’s just a reflection. Nothing is real anymore. Even as you say the word, you know it’s true. What you see is just your own wishful thinking that roused from your sub-conscious and manifested in a ghostly form before you. You know it can’t be real, yet this is the degree to which we humans control the universe; we will our desires into being – that is power. Yet our curse is that our willing only produces shadows – the minute you reach out to touch it, it’s gone.
Rachel
.Mirage.
The mirror image of mirrors and the silhouette of imagination.
Your mirage creates a trick. It’s not a trick.
The mirage of your trick and my inverted reality reverted.
I hide my meaning in plain sight. And sometimes not.
.Biblical.
Your blood,
creeping down your neckline from behind your ear, trailing along your swelling forearm, dripping from your fingertip to the mirror, outlining invisible cracks ready to splinter and multiply,
paints a glass angel in the mirror’s fragile fissures. Michael or Lucifer? I wave at my reflection, it waves back. It must be Lucifer. I swing my forearm in passionate carelessness. If that makes sense. Like you’re bound to do something for the sake of doing something.
And I am bound to this reflection like a biblical mirage.
The water ahead of me faded away as I approached, crawling on my hands and knees leaving blood and whatever other fluids decided to escape onto the sandy rocks on the ground. Another mirage. I should’ve known no water would even dare venture out here, and I probably should’ve taken that into consideration before going for a quick hike. Three days. Three days now.
“What is that?”
She squinted against the heat of the sun at the horizon. The wavy lines of heat coming off the ground made the distance waver and bulge in weird ways, as if she was high.
“I don’t have any idea.”
I’ve only really seen you a handful of times
(and my hands are small)
one moment you were there in front of me
and then all of a sudden gone
you hid from me
and I tore you down to nothing
trying to find you again.
Because of me you lost all your weight
leaving you so incredibly fragile, just skin and bones.
I rubbed off all your hair and
ripped holes in your jeans,
and your sacred baby blues faded to clear
and I stole all of your friends
and your passion for music,
I stole your voice
replaced it with a timid creature
made you follow me around like
my little pet, collar and leash.
I removed all pigment from your skin
I stole your transportation
and stole your mother’s son.
I stopped laughing at all your jokes
and you stopped telling them
I hijacked your sense of humor and
labeled it as my own.
All along,
while you have perished – I have flourished
Sometimes I think all of life is a mirage. Who you think is faithful and good turns out not to be. Who is not so nice? Turns out to be your best friend.
Is this whole life simply a mirage? Nothing appears instead our minds formulateconcepts and then we mold what we see into what we believe. Everyone has their own illusions. That’s why its so hard for us to see eye to eye.
The vision before her eyes had no sharp edges, and yet it was realer to her than anything she’d ever seen before. I miss you, I miss you, she thought. Such is life.
A mirage in front of a portal, wicked magic spun into my mirror, the horrors and the fates have seen. Oh the horrors glamored in dark blues, and green, and silvers!
Naiyalynne
Mirage is a kind of illusion. You think I mean the word, the concept, but I don’t, I really don’t. I mean /Mirage/, the woman, the beautiful woman who lives next door to me.
Lilli Q
Am I really here?
this image, distorted, transparent.
across the lands of unknown territories
lies a sorrowful plain.
Is she the one that makes me weep
or simply an innocent flower
waiting to bloom.
Love, lies, deceit–
a shattered glass pierces my skin
Why must it be so.
Jason Ohono
“I’m just all manner of sin,” said the Mirage to the Jinn.
Dusk saw her shadow grow as the last legs of gold slipped below the horizon.
The illusionist sported a mirthful grin as he generated a mirage, and the crowd gave him a round of applause.
anonymouse
As she walked through the vine covered forest she parted a vast expanse of thick forage to see what she thought was a mirage, but blinked again to see a beautiful ancient village.
Across the vast desert a lone soldier limped, treading through the dunes. He was hunched over, almost dragging his numb and aching legs due to exhaustion. A voice called out to him, and he looked up to see a child running over the small hills of sand to greet him. His lips curved into a smile, but it looked more like a grimace as he tried to ignore the pain. Reaching out, he called to his daughter who stood on the slope of a hill, watching him as he came closer. He was a few meters away, when suddenly, the mirage vanished, leaving him alone again in the sterile, repetitive landscape.
anonymouse
“I … never knew such a place existed.” She stood tall on the edge of the desert, wide green eyes scanning the horizon. It was incredible, vast, awe inspiring, and terrifying. She’s lived in the woods or valleys her whole life, the plains they’d had to cross on their way here were too open for her and even then she could see the mountains in the distance. Before her sad stretched out like sea, blanketing everything in golden washed out colors. Taugh stood behind her and after a moment of gazing out across the desert he glanced at her and smirked. The horses, growing restless behind them, stamped their feet. Ehimir turned to look at Taugh and glared at his smug expression.
“Oh what?” She asked, her words clipped. She asked him in Latin, as she was trying to not only practice but make sure he remembered the language as well. He silently laughed at her and opened his hands as if to take in the whole expanse of land then made exaggerated scary claws at her. Months ago, the exchange would have made no sense to her, but after the time they’d spent together she felt the insult burn.
“Oh shut up. I can kill a dragon, I can’t kill sand.” Beside her, Onchu whined and scratched at the dirt before him, looking up at Ehimir with large golden eyes. She cooed to the pup, running her fingers through his black mo-hawk.
“I know, don’t listen to Taugh, mommy isn’t scared.” Taugh rolled his eyes at her and swung himself into his saddle.
Heat waves rose off the highway, creating a mirage of water ahead. Shelly licked her dry lips and continued to stumble forward, the hot asphalt sucking at the soles of her boots.
The sea flowed out around us. We were watching the waves go by and we were laughing and dreaming about having dinner on the other side of the world. I would watch as the clouds floated by. I felt as if we were on another planet, hell, we were.
Heat rose up from the black road, the images wavering against the distant hills. She could feel the deep influence of the sun burning up on the thin soles of her sneakers.
The little squiggles in my vision during an aura, look similar to the movies’ version of a mirage. That is the heads up that migraine is about to come crashing in and ruin my day.
it was impossible to tell what was real and what was mirage for the dust had risen higher than the line of th e horizon and tweeked her perception into question.
The waves of heat flashed across the desert horizon. He kept glancing in all directions, searching for some sign of life or shade. The sun was slowly sinking, the heat being dragged down with it. He thought he saw something to the left. He looked over, and suddenly a pool of water appeared surrounded by trees of magnificent heights bearing a kaleidoscope of fruits. For a second a false hope went up inside of him, but he had to force himself to remember that it was a mirage.
The desert heat
seeps and slip up through the cracks in the sand.
An ocean as far as the eye can see
is but a blanket over a desolate expanse.
Mirage.
Marriage.
Miracles.
Mirth.
Myrrh.
Menopause.
Mystery.
Monologue.
Miner.
Milliner.
Memory
Milk
I could see it, glimmering in the distance. I knew it was out there. I could practically taste the sweet, sweet water as it passed through my lips, and I knew if I got there, my thirst would be quenched.
was he seeing things, was that really donghae in front of him or another mirage to take up his hope and break his heart again. hyukjae didn’t know but either way there was him right in front of them and he looked no different than the day he was in the casket, about to be buried. none of there others seemed to be able to see him, so perhaps he was not actually there. but hyukjae had no way of telling. because a car passed between the two of them and by the time it passed donghae, or whoever that was, was suddenly gone. and hyukjae was along again…
The trees floated over the sand, shifting and fading. Sara crawled towards them, praying that they weren’t merely a mirage. The sand was hot and dry and Sara’s tongue was sandpaper against her lips. The trees were closer, gaining substance and becoming more defined. Trees meant water. Thank God.
how to survive the Apocalypse
step one, love everyone who’s survived, even if you hate them
step two, be blind to the ties that bind
step three, look at every mirage like it’s reality
step four, yes, there’s more
step five, stay alive or at least try
step six, die in a ditch
shimmering in the desert this only makes me think about thirst… but for what even. what a weird fucking word
Today I don’t feel like writing about the word. It is surely not a mirage what I’m feeling. And I surely do not like thinking it might be.
The distance is too much to bear and still we have somehow managed to do it.
My heart rate increases whenever our eyes meet, whenever your smile shows, whenever your laugh echoes. I am changed everytime you are sweet, chills crossing my whole body while my inside burns; and I feel warm…. warm as never before.
And yet it is cold. It is cold outside, the distance being a tight ice cage around me, the time the shackles around my heart. And you…you are the fire burning inside me attempting to free me from them, but simultaneously pulling them tighter, and tighter, and tighter.
My saviour and torturer, are we a mirage?
there was never anything there. i realized it after i had already searched the whole world for something that i had thought would become clear to me once i saw it… but i suppose not. i suppose i was pretending. i suppose it all was fake.
he wasn’t even real-
i thought i had seen him for a split second, somewhere in the back of my mind i was convinced of it. sweet smiles might have been exchanged across a crowded room but they had disappeared, flickered away like a candle in a hurricane and we were so caught up in other things that we forgot to remember we were even there.
Ripples of water
on sun-kissed pavement–
I am on a road trip to nowhere
our love was a mirage – a distant fantasy that i kept trying to grasp. once i actually reached the spot of close interaction with you – i realized it was all an illusion. we don’t have chemistry, we don’t have any passion for each other. i was desperate, searching for something that wasn’t there.
i was sitting across the room, knees up, head in my hands, my eyes peeking through. what i saw was beautiful twisted and contorted in some sort of majesty. when i reevaluated what i saw i realized, it was just a mirage.
The mirage of the hotel wobbled and wavered for just a moment, but after Claire blinked, it was as if she were staring at an oil painting, the smears never melting away from the wall illusions and tricks of the doors and windows. For something that was a mere glitch of the eye and mind, the hotel felt very real – and very, very welcoming.
A ghost looms over me,
Fingers imprinted on heavy shoulders,
Markings of a past revised repeatedly.
Misfortune hollows the weary soul:
When the hourglass drips its last
I shall be no more.
And for you,
a new mirage is born
it’s just a reflection. Nothing is real anymore. Even as you say the word, you know it’s true. What you see is just your own wishful thinking that roused from your sub-conscious and manifested in a ghostly form before you. You know it can’t be real, yet this is the degree to which we humans control the universe; we will our desires into being – that is power. Yet our curse is that our willing only produces shadows – the minute you reach out to touch it, it’s gone.
.Mirage.
The mirror image of mirrors and the silhouette of imagination.
Your mirage creates a trick. It’s not a trick.
The mirage of your trick and my inverted reality reverted.
I hide my meaning in plain sight. And sometimes not.
.Biblical.
Your blood,
creeping down your neckline from behind your ear, trailing along your swelling forearm, dripping from your fingertip to the mirror, outlining invisible cracks ready to splinter and multiply,
paints a glass angel in the mirror’s fragile fissures. Michael or Lucifer? I wave at my reflection, it waves back. It must be Lucifer. I swing my forearm in passionate carelessness. If that makes sense. Like you’re bound to do something for the sake of doing something.
And I am bound to this reflection like a biblical mirage.
The water ahead of me faded away as I approached, crawling on my hands and knees leaving blood and whatever other fluids decided to escape onto the sandy rocks on the ground. Another mirage. I should’ve known no water would even dare venture out here, and I probably should’ve taken that into consideration before going for a quick hike. Three days. Three days now.
“What is that?”
She squinted against the heat of the sun at the horizon. The wavy lines of heat coming off the ground made the distance waver and bulge in weird ways, as if she was high.
“I don’t have any idea.”
The sweet high from the drugs was making her see mirages in the window’s frost. The white snowflakes dancing in the wind like sand in the dessert.
I’ve only really seen you a handful of times
(and my hands are small)
one moment you were there in front of me
and then all of a sudden gone
you hid from me
and I tore you down to nothing
trying to find you again.
Because of me you lost all your weight
leaving you so incredibly fragile, just skin and bones.
I rubbed off all your hair and
ripped holes in your jeans,
and your sacred baby blues faded to clear
and I stole all of your friends
and your passion for music,
I stole your voice
replaced it with a timid creature
made you follow me around like
my little pet, collar and leash.
I removed all pigment from your skin
I stole your transportation
and stole your mother’s son.
I stopped laughing at all your jokes
and you stopped telling them
I hijacked your sense of humor and
labeled it as my own.
All along,
while you have perished – I have flourished
light reflects
mirrored mirages
set to music
i fell
when i needed to soar
humility
makes us
human
Sometimes I think all of life is a mirage. Who you think is faithful and good turns out not to be. Who is not so nice? Turns out to be your best friend.
It’s amazing.
Is this whole life simply a mirage? Nothing appears instead our minds formulateconcepts and then we mold what we see into what we believe. Everyone has their own illusions. That’s why its so hard for us to see eye to eye.
Say yes to the dress. That one episode, with the lady not wanting a sweetheart neckline. Silly, but it’s all I can think of…
The vision before her eyes had no sharp edges, and yet it was realer to her than anything she’d ever seen before. I miss you, I miss you, she thought. Such is life.
A mirage in front of a portal, wicked magic spun into my mirror, the horrors and the fates have seen. Oh the horrors glamored in dark blues, and green, and silvers!
Mirage is a kind of illusion. You think I mean the word, the concept, but I don’t, I really don’t. I mean /Mirage/, the woman, the beautiful woman who lives next door to me.
Am I really here?
this image, distorted, transparent.
across the lands of unknown territories
lies a sorrowful plain.
Is she the one that makes me weep
or simply an innocent flower
waiting to bloom.
Love, lies, deceit–
a shattered glass pierces my skin
Why must it be so.
“I’m just all manner of sin,” said the Mirage to the Jinn.
Dusk saw her shadow grow as the last legs of gold slipped below the horizon.
The illusionist sported a mirthful grin as he generated a mirage, and the crowd gave him a round of applause.
As she walked through the vine covered forest she parted a vast expanse of thick forage to see what she thought was a mirage, but blinked again to see a beautiful ancient village.
Across the vast desert a lone soldier limped, treading through the dunes. He was hunched over, almost dragging his numb and aching legs due to exhaustion. A voice called out to him, and he looked up to see a child running over the small hills of sand to greet him. His lips curved into a smile, but it looked more like a grimace as he tried to ignore the pain. Reaching out, he called to his daughter who stood on the slope of a hill, watching him as he came closer. He was a few meters away, when suddenly, the mirage vanished, leaving him alone again in the sterile, repetitive landscape.
“I … never knew such a place existed.” She stood tall on the edge of the desert, wide green eyes scanning the horizon. It was incredible, vast, awe inspiring, and terrifying. She’s lived in the woods or valleys her whole life, the plains they’d had to cross on their way here were too open for her and even then she could see the mountains in the distance. Before her sad stretched out like sea, blanketing everything in golden washed out colors. Taugh stood behind her and after a moment of gazing out across the desert he glanced at her and smirked. The horses, growing restless behind them, stamped their feet. Ehimir turned to look at Taugh and glared at his smug expression.
“Oh what?” She asked, her words clipped. She asked him in Latin, as she was trying to not only practice but make sure he remembered the language as well. He silently laughed at her and opened his hands as if to take in the whole expanse of land then made exaggerated scary claws at her. Months ago, the exchange would have made no sense to her, but after the time they’d spent together she felt the insult burn.
“Oh shut up. I can kill a dragon, I can’t kill sand.” Beside her, Onchu whined and scratched at the dirt before him, looking up at Ehimir with large golden eyes. She cooed to the pup, running her fingers through his black mo-hawk.
“I know, don’t listen to Taugh, mommy isn’t scared.” Taugh rolled his eyes at her and swung himself into his saddle.
Heat waves rose off the highway, creating a mirage of water ahead. Shelly licked her dry lips and continued to stumble forward, the hot asphalt sucking at the soles of her boots.