100 Reasons to Stay Alive1. A hug.2. An “I love you”.3. A funny tumblr post.4. A message, “I miss you”.5. A pat on the shoulder.6. Walking past the compass and knowing I am clean.7. The funny doodle I did during English.8. A piece of music that reminds me of the fateful day last November.9. Inside jokes.10. Wrestling my friend until we are covered in bruises then laughing and hugging.11. Eating lunch that is covered in sawdust.12. Seeing the teacher give me the look then totally ignoring what I'm doing.13. Playing the “bogies” game, but dirtier.14. A quick snog between classes.15. Stealing his glasses then seeing him moan.16. Giving them back and him punching me playfully.17. Seeing the picture we drew together before leaving.18. Walking past the house and recalling everything all at once.19. That feels moment when a ship becomes canon.20. Dan and Phil.21. The moment when both of us want something yet neither wants to initiate it and we look at each other
DemonsI slit their skin, bleeding out,pull their hair, scream and shout.I try to swallow the bitter death,to bring the end, to breathe last breath.But despite all of the sorrowful crying,my demons haven't even begun dying.I punch and hit, trying to break,create a release for my sanity's sake.Screaming and raging, all alone,I sink to the floor and begin to moan.Now I would still just be lyingif I told you my demons were close to dying.I crumple more, spirit crushing,my soul destroyed and my pores bleeding.My demons leak out, dripping red,the colour spinning and whirling my head.Now, at last my demons have are gonebut they've taken me with them...So endeth my song.
Love HerLove a girl who writes;go beneath the words you're seeing.Pick apart the outer shelland find her true inner being.Kiss her ink-stained fingersand gaze deep within her eyes,ignore the characters she's created,and just be mesmerized.Love everything she's been,who she was, is and will be,fix the torn pages of her book andheal the scars on her body.Lastly, play your part asthe hero of her book.Always be her savior andalways be her hook.
HeartMissing: half a heart. Slightly broken.
Welcome to High SchoolI couldn’t resist facepalming that day.“I didn’t know dinosaurs were real!” the monkey exclaimed. “I always thought they were a myth!”I sighed. If these things didn’t happen every day, I’m fairly sure it wouldn’t have bothered me so much. I calmly explained how they were, in fact, real and you can see their bones in museums all over the globe. Her eyes unclouded and she laughed, realising this new truth for the first time in her life. Glancing around, I saw her friends join her, all laughing in a collective, like dizzying hyenas, as I methodically packed my already over-stuffed rucksack with everything I needed to take away from my science lesson.Alone, I slinked into the over-crowded corridor, being shoved this way and that by the gorillas going about their own way. They cackled and grunted as I elbowed my way through, not particularly caring where the blows landed. They’re impervious to me anyway.I’m
ReturnShe peers anxiously around the corner, hoping she might be able to see the red light indicating the long awaited train’s arrival. Every few seconds, she is checking her watch, tapping her fingers, pacing along the platform. Tears meander down her face as she alternates between standing and sitting, peering and staring, crying and smiling.Alone.This time, when she peers around, she freezes and I can taste the bittersweet odour of anticipation. Longing. Time.Too much waiting.She is bombarded by crowds of people and she fights through them all, trying to get up to the misty glass and see in. After a few moments the crowds disperse and she wilts. It seems the moment she was waiting for hasn't come.Crumpling, she hits the floor with unwelcome force and the sounds of her melancholy sobs ring, echoing against the walls of the ancient station.Then, as quickly as she started crying, she stops and a squeak is caught in the back of her throat. Stepping off the train is a young man, we
LeavingRain.The drops snake down my face and slither between my eyelashes, making light refract into my eyes and creating little rainbows only I can see. I grin to myself. I always say I see the world in a different way. This is proof! Everything I see is dyed in bright hues of multicoloured light, tainting all I see, changing the dull urban environment into fairy land.I blink.The rainbows leave me. They don't belong. Not really. Shivering, I think how nothing colourful really should exist right now. I scowl at the autumn leaves which dare to exist, a shade of orange too cheerful to be just lying there on the street. I resume my running and let the redness consume me, let the red spots dance in front of my eyes. This world…Monochrome. Greyness. Grey everywhere. On the streets, roads, cars...In my mind...Tonight was brilliant. We laughed and sang and had such a good time, she tossed her hair as we pledged to remember this day. Her hair. Now that is one thing
I'm ReadyTired of waiting,tired of denial,a stare at the windowand I recoil.A harsh tempest is screaming,keeping me away.Fluttering my broken wings,I struggle to fly.I open the door,I open my mind,I embrace the winds thatwithin me, too, resideA howling whirlwind of thoughtsconsume me.Fluttering my ripped wings,I struggle to fly.Wincing, I cry,wincing, I bandage.Erasing the scars ofmy past terror and bondage.The rain sweeps me down,completely away.Fluttering my healing wings,trying to fly.Clenching teeth,clenching motive,I step out the door,bracing firm, intact.I work with the wind, moving high,soaring and gliding...I've learned how to fly.
Six Word Story: For rentFor rent: Remote cabin, stained floorboards.
Unreliable NarratorSherlock Holmes stories?They were doctored.
Under the BedDear Monster,Dust Bunnies miss you!
Empty"Shouldn't I feel something?" she wondered
WhispersHer secret diedon his lips.
Lost in Translation "I see." Said the blind man.
Be your own best friendDear person in the mirror,Smile.
''Let's do it.''
Reluctant TruthIt wasn't love, it was chemicals.
Dead HeroesWe have not died in vain.
MortalityClock's hands are at my throat.
If OnlyA young woman, too young to be exposed to the pain she had found so recently, sat at her Father's bedside. Inside her warm, soft hands, she held the calloused and motionless hands of the man she loved. The heart-monitor made a slow and steady rhythm; a sign of either hope or loss. She turned her head away from the closed eyes of her Father, and swept her eyes over the snow-covered trees outside the small window of the hospital room. She found herself praying, though she did not know to whom, that somehow this would not be the last image of her Father. Her mind fell prisoner to her memories, as she wished she could be as strong as he had always been for her.The snow reminded her of their snowball fights in winter, how they planned childish assaults against each other and used the snow-covered hedges for defence. She felt herself giggle as she remembered catching him completely unaware with a huge snowball she had made. His laughter was always so hearty and pure, and that day had produc
...you ask me, and i say...i.you ask me how i feeland i say,"fine."you don't hear it in my tone,but what i really mean is,"terrible."i don't tell youthat my skin is sagging from my bonesandmy heart skips two beats at a timeandmy lungs are wracked with painbecause i'm holding back.i don't tell youthat when i wake up in the mornings,it feels as if my dreams are drowning meand all i want to dois fall asleep peacefully for once.ii.you ask me what i'm thinkingand i say,"nothing."you don't see it in my gaze,but what i really mean is,"everything that matters."i don't tell youthat my mind is a tornadospanning the distancebetween lifeand fateand deathand the loss of future hopes.i don't tell youthat my silence should be listened tobecause i'm screaming on the insideabout shattered family photographsandnightmares of failing you.and all i want to dois stick you in my every heartbeat,but i'm afraid you'll suffocate.and even more...i'm afraid you'll
Strange is my 'Normal'"You are strange."Your point is...?
No need to rush..."Tea time, gentlemen.""...and the body?"
To My Almost-ChildSorry you never had a name.
InnocenceHow to lose innocence: Add Alcohol.
HeartbreakI woke up and died again.
Coming HomeMummy? When is Daddy coming home?