I'm sorry
I can't always hold you together
I can't always be there to pick up the pieces
After you've shattered
Sometimes I'm selfish
And sometimes I shatter too.
But that girl you know?
The one who doesn't care what anyone thinks?
The one who doesn't give a rat's ass if she gets harassed
Made fun of
Made an outcast in the community she grew up in?
She's a fake.
She's a liar.
She's a damn good actress.
But she hurts just like everyone else
She cries.
She bleeds
And she shatters.
Can Machines Cry? by ModernCrusader287, literature
Literature
Can Machines Cry?
I dreamed of the new me
I was paralized the waist down
But I woke up in a lab
It was so strange
There was a female doctor looking over me
Saying I should sleep
But then I started getting aware of my surrounding
This place of stainless steel and hologram glass
There's tanks around me
I can hear the vital signs
I could see my organs in a jar
WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME?!
My skin is covered by a suit
It felt like a new pair of skin
But then I saw the truth
I became a organic war machine
The doctor says I will change the definition of war
But I could no longer reproduce and have feelings
Why me I wanted to ask?
But I never go
I'm trying to be normal. I don't know what that is, though. Not this. Not feeling like my heart is a ruptured fountain, like my brain is a maze of glass shattering from the inside out. I'm not whole right now, my inadequacy is a prison. I reach through the windows to touch the glowing forest out there, only to have my palm scorched by the sun while the world sifts as sand through my blistered fingers.
If only someone would care enough to give to me. They only come around when they want something. Spade a slice of me onto your plate. Moist veins draped over skin and rib still seep their j
The dream died the day that toxic gas filled the streets, rubbing its way into every corner of town like the eraser of the gods.
The Cold War was a joke; this was a reality check.
After the gas dissipated and the snow kept falling, I realized that it was really over. The corpses that were once my friends, neighbours and acquaintances would never wake up. The houses became icy skeletons; remains in their own right. I live in the graveyard now, in the family mausoleum that used to be the only home I knew. We never moved. Why would we?
They're in the shed now. The ground was to
Another completely random piece of writing.
Please enjoy.
TITLE: Dragon Attack
--------------------
eyes bright
colour night
tail long
body strong
scales hard
belly scarred
claws curved
fear deserved
brave knight
armour tight
horse strong
carries along
lance ready
holding steady
knight arrives
beast dives
pointed lance
only chance
jetting flame
no shame
knight dies
dragon flies
The Vanity of Power
The warbling screams of gargantuan horns filled the dark assembly room. Hundreds of Overlords from all of the provinces of the Demon Plane shouted and shoved each other in and out of the room's many rows of seats; the odd fireball launched into the air by some of the more magically-adept Overlords was the only attempt made by anyone at controlling the crowd, although all it did was provide some momentary illumination. The rows were built in a circle surrounding a large structure made from what looked like copper and iron. This structure, which resembled a podium or an altar and adorned with long-dried blood, was fastened
As if the opening into a world that is too far from my reach, the adoring sound of birds singing with content leaves my weary mind to ease. Extending this frail arm of mine into the sky, I dream of taking flight into the universe of freedom. To remove these rusty chains from my broken limbs, to inhale the sweet fragrance of summer's embrace, where are my wings?
Someone, oh anyone, be the angel to this mortal girl, and find me the feathers that will help me glide through this fascinating planet. I want to hear languages that were never known existed, to set my eyes upon the journey not many can experience.
Gorgeous window, please be the ga
Hanging from a Blood Soaked... by BornAnimeFreak, literature
Literature
Hanging from a Blood Soaked...
Hanging from a Blood Soaked Tree
By: Adam M. Snow
One morn as under a great tree I lay,
Misery held me in its pain-filled sway.
I dreamt of a life where I wasn't numb,
Sleepwalking my way toward the dusk to come.
I felt sweat drops that I thought were rain,
And opening my eyes, saw a man hung in pain.
His feet were crossed and his arms stretched wide;
I could see no life in this man. Had he died?
Arose a voice from the blood soaked tree,
"I died for you so that you are free."
I sat there stunned in my ignorant sleep,
My curiosity teased by a tree that speaks.
I lingered in repose, knowing not what was said;
Clinging to the echo