[x]

Online"I have a problem."

"You always were a worrier."

"Don't you want to know what it is?"

"Not if it's going to worry me as well."

"That's precisely why you should know it."

"I really think I'll pass."

"But-"

"No."

"…"

"Thank you."

"But…this time it's a really big deal."

"Oh for the love of- All right. All right. You win. What is it?"

"What did you think the first time you met me?"

"That's not a problem, that's a question."

"I know."

"How am I supposed to answer it exactly?"

"I don't know if your mother explained this to you, but all you have to do is open your mouth and words-"

"Shut it, smart ass."

"Then answer the q

Never AgainThe rain boy had sworn that he would never again smile. His eyes always soaked the oceans with tears from his past and his heart was always dark and locked to anyone who could try and help him. His world had become so bleak and dark, that he stood in rooms of people that were a blur past him and a guitar that just no longer played.

So when the sunshine girl met the rain boy, for a second, the world stood still. In that tiny little balcony, where there was only space for two, the sunshine girl asked the rain boy, "When was the last time you smiled?"

The rain boy was startled for a second at someone talking to him, but he answered anyway, "I

Dead WrongDear Boy with the Broken Eyes.

Just because they have always said it, things have always been difficult. And they are right. Life has always been difficult. Things will never happen the way you want them to happen. Broken hearts are so much easier to find than mended ones. And dreams? Well, if the world ran on dreams, we'd be building a whole new universe already, just to escape our own jaded one.

When I met you, you had already seen the worst of this world. They told you that you were not allowed to love because you couldn't do it the right way. They informed you that you weren't a poet, just a vagabond with tragic fingers on a broken inst

HappyYou looked. I glanced. We met. I smiled. You smiled back. A sentence here. A metaphor there. A memory we both found beyond repair. I shared. You listened. You shared. I heard. You paused. And then I kissed you.

We're happy.

Fingers pressed skin. Then danced apart. I teased. You laughed. You joked. I grinned. Stairwells were dreamcatchers. Stars were destinies. Guitars became epiphanies. More words. More memories. More to admit. More to regret. You were damaged. I was broken.

We're happy.

You stopped smiling. I didn't laugh. Words began to go unspoken. Regrets emerged. Fingers didn't touch. Lips faltered. Stairwells were nightmare holders.

FailureShe was the Thief Girl with no faith and half a heart, and she didn't care if they never ever saw her soul anyway. She was almost content in the half broken life she had created for herself. Her fingers were always drenched in ink, her mind was always preoccupied with her treasure. Words stolen from conversations, from homes, from mouths that didn't need to speak any more.

She found the Lost Boy somewhere in an alley of poetry and a war of lyrics, fighting for his life with a broken piano and a worn tuxedo. She stole him before the bass viols, the gleaming guitars and the thrashing drums could kill him.

He fought with her all the way, telli

Moving On"It all seems to be in order. Let me just read your last file."

"Thank you."

"It says here you used to have a girlfriend who was raped whilst you were with her?"

"Er…yes."

"Did she love you?"

"Yes. More than I could handle, I suppose."

"According to your file you told her she wasn't the one, and that her overfamiliarity with men led her to be in this situation?"

"Er…yes? But it's not like I told her she deserved to be raped, it was more-"

"Just yes or no answers would do. Did you do anything prior to this incident to make this girl feel loved?"

"Yes… I didn't cheat. I think that's enough for any relationship."

"It als

The Past, The FutureDo you remember when you were little and your best friend told you she didn't want to be friends anymore? It hurts like something was nesting on your heart and had clawed its way into your soul. There is an childish elegance to the sadness that you assumed only existed for grown ups when they talk about grown up things. In the glorious contant of humanity, the existence of her will corrode and become a faded memory that you will only remember when you hurt again.

And then you will lose your dog, your best friend, your confidant. It will happen suddenly and you will be left with nothing but the hole in your heart of a lost companion who you a

In ThreesI was armed with half a deck of emotions, two thirds of a heart and eyes of a broken mirror that offered no protection to my soul. I wanted to talk about it often and whenever I needed to, the words would tangle in my mouth, come out as a compliment of a shirt, an idea that had no relevance, a conversation about the weather. I was eighteen. I wanted to be stronger, brilliant, bright like a comet in the sky. Instead, I learnt about how beds could be the most loathed places in the world, bathrooms were meant to be soaked in blood...and men with eyes like knives sometimes used them against people they loved.

I was armed with shards of strength,

My InspirationYou once asked me what inspired me, sweet love;
And I shall tell what you want to hear...

It is a girl who isn't clever, but clever in what she knows
and a lost boy who knows exactly where he is going to go.
It is the scent of cologne and smoke and lovemaking
and a man who wears his heart on his sleeve
It is a woman who has always believed in her lover
and he will let her down no more
It is a sick man who is whole again
and the wife who stayed by his side
It is a writer who has found a brand new muse
and the paint of the artist who draws her lover
It is the words of a poet whose trust is renewed
and the warmth in the words of the

A History of ImaginariumWhen we were young, we believed. In myths, in legends, in stories beyond the wildest imagination of the best story teller in the world. Tomorrow always held surprises, new stories, and new worlds for our imaginations to explore. Everything began with 'Once upon a time' and ended with 'Happily ever after.' We lived in a land where we all owned pet tyrannosaurus rexes, maybe a few dragons, a sword that rivaled Excalibur and faeries and pixies, who just happened to make great playmates. Fae food for some reason always seemed to be so much better than your average meal, and who needs an adult to talk sense to, when you could have a talking lion?

Inside Out"I think I wear my soul inside out."

"What?"

"My soul. It's inside out."

"That's…a strange thing to say."

"I have all the symptoms though."

"And what are the symptoms of this…disea-"

"It's not a disease."

"All right. What are the symptoms, then?"

"I care too much about all the wrong things, I worry about odd things, my heart breaks too easily and my brain feels a little too asymmetrical to the things that are supposed to be fun."

"Fun?"

"You know…parties and alcohol and…normal things. Like that."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing. What do you care too much about?"

"Everything. Global warming. The whales. Aliens. Israel.

Seeking Solace"There is no solace in tears."

It took a moment for her to realize, her tears frozen in place that there was someone else in the room. The broken girl with rivulets of gleaming diamonds dripping down her face stared at the floor. "Leave me alone." She said softly and sobbed into her hands, still as broken as she was before.

A soft sigh came from the boy who spoke. Yet, he didn't leave her alone.

"There is no solace in words."

She looked up from her book, her fingers moving along the words like they were treasured pieces of gold, each one more valuable than the next. Her tears blurred the words, words she needed to take her away to another

Moments"You know what, my love? I think I'm going to give you the twenty third of March."

The little boy looked up at me from his cereal and tilted his head slightly, as though pondering this. Then, he frowned. "Mama. That's not possible. How can you give me a day? Days can't be gifts!"

He got that incorrigible logic from his father. I smiled and wiped my hands on the dishcloth, moving to sit besides him. He was at that age where his eyes were huge, questioning and innocent, that age where pain was sometimes only healed when measured in love. I ran my hand through his thick, dark hair. "Yes, you can."

The spoon filled with milk and chocolate cere

Skinny Wordslook:

he was winterish blue eyes and an autumn scarf dressed in an stupid pink summer sweater that made no sense on a spring day. His shoes were converse, the kind of the skinny intellectual who had just enough money to buy one pair of decent shoes. she never really liked skinny intellectuals, yet did find herself considering them sometimes, in the way she considered coffee that was tongue scalding (horribly and without excuse).

it is odd then, that she still doesn't regret his monsoon flavoured kiss, the kind that made your tongue bleed with its passion, its heat.

understand:

he drew in uneasy catches of breath as he snored in the heat o

EternityThis is to the child I loved, the one I lost before I was meant to.
This is for the little girl who would have danced with me to the songs we were both meant to love.
This is for the angel who I was meant to have changed for, the little one whose heart was in my own.
This is for the girl who would have skipped to school, the baby who would have laughed.
This is for the song I couldn't sing, the poem I could never write.
This is for the moment in time that never existed, in a car that never moved.
This is for the second that could have been a lifetime, the forever that should have been ours.
This is for the darling who should have bee

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ColoursWhen I am honest, I sense blue.
When I am happy, I feel red.
When I am mischievous, I smirk purple.
When I am nervous, I quake crimson
When I am angry, I glower black.
When I am content, I shine orange.
When I am afraid, I tremble yellow.
When I am envious, I burn green.
When I am brave, I blaze white.

And if I had eyes to see the rainbow I feel…
Then maybe I would glow pink too.

Never AgainFor a good ten minutes I was speechless . I must have looked like quite an idiot, standing there with my jaw to my knees. What did he even mean by telling me that I didn’t work hard enough to make the grade I was aiming for? How the hell would he know how fucking hard I worked?

Actually scratch that last thought.

Of course he would know.

We spent all together too much time together.

Then why would he…I scowled and picked my jaw up off the floor. There was absolutely no way I was going to talk to him after this.

It was high time I broke up with him anyway.

He was judgmental and obnoxious and told lies that blew up in his face.

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Submitted: January 3, 2012
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Rebirth

by *UntamedUnwanted, Jan 3, 2012, 11:56:31 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

"You won't tell us then? What it's like?"

"..."

"Is it because you have something to hide?"

"..."

"Or is it because it never actually happened?"

"It happened."

"Then tell us. Tell us what is it like."

"I was always the girl whose family asks 'What is wrong with you.' instead of 'What is wrong with you?'"

"And this has nothing to do with my ques-"

"If they had all just asked...I would tell them. I would tell them that my heart was torn into hundreds and thousands. And my lungs were still crushed from footholds. And my brain still sees two little girls laughing and playing. And my legs hurt from dragging myself from basements that never quite close. And the bone in my left arm has never healed because it protected me. And my arteries are still clogged with his name. And my wind pipe never quite feels open anymore. And my dreams and memories have turned to dust. And there is a part of me that wants to forget, but my mind just won't heal enough to let me sleep. And my spirit feels like it's reborn to a world which is so much crueller than the one before. That I have his name shaped in my mouth, my spine and every other part of me that actually counts."

"And you didn't tell us this earlier because..."

"Because, madam...how do you find the right way to describe the night someone stole your soul and sold you a bottle of broken dreams instead?"

Rebirthby *UntamedUnwanted

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

About a month and a half ago, I was raped again. This time by a stranger, ripped from my own bed because a friend who I was staying with decided to leave a door unlocked, something I never ever do.

He stole my words from me. It's where I've been hiding somewhere between losing myself and the screaming in my own mind.

They keep asking me what it was like to be raped.

love 9 9

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 4 4

~~mad 0 0~~

sad 13 13

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Izaya100 Dec 12, 2012 Student Artist

this was awesome but i have a question where you really raped .... you don't have to answer if you don't want to

~XxblackblossomxX Sep 12, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

You are so strong

~619warrior281 Aug 24, 2012 Student Traditional Artist

Your words are...they...well, i was searching for a description fit for them but am left unable to.
I'm moved by them. Your writings are filled with such emotion you don't see out of people anymore. And maybe it's a good thing, because it's a feeling no one should feel.
But your words are beautiful. And even out of a mess a gem can be found.
I mean no offense by my words. I have respect, and nothing less for you.

~skruffy123 Aug 4, 2012 Professional General Artist

those with out understanding are prone to ask questions they don't fully comprehend. as always your writing was moving.

~tiraluv Jul 31, 2012

I am so sorry you had to endure this. Some people don't understand that certain experiences leave you without words and for a writer, that's an extremely unwanted addition of horror. I'm glad that you've found your words again. They are too beautiful for the world to do without.

*ArthurCrow Jul 5, 2012 Professional Writer

Your expressions are deeply profound and heart moving... to write of such a dark experience takes a lot of courage. Sharing your story and writing about it also helpful on the path of heeling.

~ReaperofttheNight May 29, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

I just found you today. I'm late on this piece, but... Well, obviously, there's no words I can think to say to help you. I'm just so sorry you had to go through something like this, and to write about it-- you must be an incredible person. I feel choked up just because of how personal this piece is.

~WolfRunner82 Apr 22, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

your words are full of such emotion. nobody can start to feel the pain you have been through. i am so sorry

~PurpleObsessedNinja Apr 7, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

that is all

~HarajukuLoversMusic Mar 27, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

This is actually the first poem/story I'm looking at in your gallery.
You, woman, have the ability to stop time for everyone and make them see what has been hidden by others. This is the kind of art that has to be seen.
Not because it's well written,

because of the emotional message underneath these layers of text.

Stand tall, chin in the air. Don't let it get you. <3
I really hope you see this.

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