05-24-2014, 04:34 PM
Hi! I thought I would make this thread to post my own shorter texts and poems. You are welcome, or actually you are encouraged to comment and speak your mind about my texts so that I can improve. I will start everything off with two of my own poems and a short story/text. Hope you enjoy:
Watching
Safe with you around me. Even your shallow shell, your shadow is enough. Enough for me to live the life that I want. The life that I need. Like a guardian, your eyes watch over me. And I know that it is better this way. Now we can’t touch our core, but now we can’t lose each other either. Don’t you agree that this is a step in the right direction? A step for you and me both. Don’t ever leave me even if you already did. Because I am safe with you around me.
Seeds of Desperation
The crushing sound of bones stomped to the ground. The fingers who fearlessly continues grasping after the seeds that lay mauled on the ground. Scratching. The necessity driving the man’s movement, between the ocean of legs that won’t stop moving. Moving towards work, school, and slowly, moving towards the lonely path of death. The same path that the man on the ground so slyly has avoided for so long. The path that is catching up to him with increasing pace. Like the legs. Left, right, left. Stomping on the ground. His fingers bloody with purple blood, someone else’s and not his. Bloody as they finally pick up the fine powder that initially was created as seeds. Seeds that could keep him avoiding a little longer. Seeds that the persons moving above, with their legs, know nothing about. Seeds that they wouldn’t care about even if they did.
Tick Tock
Tick. Tock. I look suspiciously at the potion in front of me. The clear red beverage that is eerily similar to the color of blood. I would know, I have both bled and made others bleed by my sword. But I know I need something to get through the day. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. Tick. Tock. My body is shaking and the man in black robes across the table is calmly studying my movements and actions. Too calmly. “Drink it, it will make everything better.†The man says, trying to persuade me. I push my paranoia aside and focus on taking deep breaths, ignoring the almost irresistible urges that keep attacking the surface of my consciousness. I need it!! Breath in, breath out. I can’t take it anymore. It keeps ruining my life. I have to be strong!! Breath in, breath out. I adjust my breathing to the sound of the clock. Tick. Tock. Quickly, before I can change my mind, I grab the bottle with my sweaty hands. I uncork the bottle with a plop. Immediately the familiar scent of decay hits me with a mixture of herbs I’ve never smelled before. He promised that the potion would stop the urges. My heart is beating faster and my instincts try to convince me to run. I’m not running from my past anymore. I take another deep breath before tossing back the potion, ignoring the bitter, salty taste. A burning feeling starts spreading through my body. The feeling of something devouring me from the inside out. I scream until my throat burn as intense as the rest of my body. I lose the grip of the bottle and it drops towards the floor. Crash! But everything I see is blurry and when I try to focus, to steady myself, my eyes starts to sting. He lied to me. All I hear is the sharp shattering of the glass and the pulsating sound of the clock. Tick. Tock. Suddenly I start to stumble and then I fall to the floor, but as in slow motion. The devouring burning sensation is suddenly replaced. Now I feel how my limbs go cold and how my energy evaporates into thin air. I lay on the ground, gasping after air, after consciousness as I drift off to another place, where all that exist is darkness. I hear the dark laughter of the man that promised me a life of redemption. And then the clock on the wall stops.
Watching
Safe with you around me. Even your shallow shell, your shadow is enough. Enough for me to live the life that I want. The life that I need. Like a guardian, your eyes watch over me. And I know that it is better this way. Now we can’t touch our core, but now we can’t lose each other either. Don’t you agree that this is a step in the right direction? A step for you and me both. Don’t ever leave me even if you already did. Because I am safe with you around me.
Seeds of Desperation
The crushing sound of bones stomped to the ground. The fingers who fearlessly continues grasping after the seeds that lay mauled on the ground. Scratching. The necessity driving the man’s movement, between the ocean of legs that won’t stop moving. Moving towards work, school, and slowly, moving towards the lonely path of death. The same path that the man on the ground so slyly has avoided for so long. The path that is catching up to him with increasing pace. Like the legs. Left, right, left. Stomping on the ground. His fingers bloody with purple blood, someone else’s and not his. Bloody as they finally pick up the fine powder that initially was created as seeds. Seeds that could keep him avoiding a little longer. Seeds that the persons moving above, with their legs, know nothing about. Seeds that they wouldn’t care about even if they did.
Tick Tock
Tick. Tock. I look suspiciously at the potion in front of me. The clear red beverage that is eerily similar to the color of blood. I would know, I have both bled and made others bleed by my sword. But I know I need something to get through the day. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. Tick. Tock. My body is shaking and the man in black robes across the table is calmly studying my movements and actions. Too calmly. “Drink it, it will make everything better.†The man says, trying to persuade me. I push my paranoia aside and focus on taking deep breaths, ignoring the almost irresistible urges that keep attacking the surface of my consciousness. I need it!! Breath in, breath out. I can’t take it anymore. It keeps ruining my life. I have to be strong!! Breath in, breath out. I adjust my breathing to the sound of the clock. Tick. Tock. Quickly, before I can change my mind, I grab the bottle with my sweaty hands. I uncork the bottle with a plop. Immediately the familiar scent of decay hits me with a mixture of herbs I’ve never smelled before. He promised that the potion would stop the urges. My heart is beating faster and my instincts try to convince me to run. I’m not running from my past anymore. I take another deep breath before tossing back the potion, ignoring the bitter, salty taste. A burning feeling starts spreading through my body. The feeling of something devouring me from the inside out. I scream until my throat burn as intense as the rest of my body. I lose the grip of the bottle and it drops towards the floor. Crash! But everything I see is blurry and when I try to focus, to steady myself, my eyes starts to sting. He lied to me. All I hear is the sharp shattering of the glass and the pulsating sound of the clock. Tick. Tock. Suddenly I start to stumble and then I fall to the floor, but as in slow motion. The devouring burning sensation is suddenly replaced. Now I feel how my limbs go cold and how my energy evaporates into thin air. I lay on the ground, gasping after air, after consciousness as I drift off to another place, where all that exist is darkness. I hear the dark laughter of the man that promised me a life of redemption. And then the clock on the wall stops.
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
