It all started down on the grounds behind the churchyard.
12-year-old David Summersley had slipped away from the church and walked out into the yard. The sky was an unnatural orange color and there appeared to be a huge planet-like shadow hovering just above him.
He was hoping that no one noticed him, as someone was always dispatched to find him and drag him back to the Groningen family, who would then whip him and lock him in his small room without any supper.
Such things like this happen every Sunday, and David was refusing to pray to a god who would take his parents away from him and place him with an abusive family. He needed to leave t
Passed Through the Hour Glass by sam1314, literature
Literature
Passed Through the Hour Glass
It's New Years Eve again,
A time recognized for cheer,
It symbolizes another year gone by,
Another grain of sand,
Passed through the hour glass.
Many of us make resolution,
And I'd be lying if I said,
That I didn't.
Unlike many years past though,
I'm not planning to do anything,
Really life changing.
Instead this New Year,
My resolution is simply,
Be happy without a hint of true sorrow,
Love with out looking back,
And to live for me.
Because I'm positively done,
With looking over my shoulder,
And desperately thinking,
'What if'...
A blank slate.
Wiped clean of any and all familiar shapes,
reset to nothing. A world rocked,
then plunged into the dark.
Non-traversable landscapes expanding into the distance,
untouched by recent thought, uncluttered by memories
which so often strangle any freedom
under vine-like masses.
They'll never grow here. There's no nourishment,
nothing to feed the tangle, so it simply doesn't live,
then in turn it never gets the chance to die.
A single blink of an eye,
mechanically aided.
The human side of her cannot exist without machines.
The wires stretch across her,
every coil prolongs her breathing, every inch extends her lif
Star Stained Hands by LingeringLullabys, literature
Literature
Star Stained Hands
She asked me how my hands got that way
And I told her of the 3 am horizon
Lit only by reflections
Where I chased falling stars
Caught them
And pried them open with my bare hands
So I could see what a wish looked like.
So my fingers are stained with the echoes of a galaxy
The one that died a million years ago
That I watched go out yesterday.
I told her
It's hard to catch stars with burnt hands
She asked if it was worth it.
To have star stained
Fire scorched veins
With galaxy under my fingernails
And infinity under my skin;
If I could feel all it could be without me.
I smiled.
I told her of the oceans she keeps in her eyes
August 13, 2001
Dear Journal,
Every night it's the same nightmare. I've experienced other nightmares before, but one stands out among the rest, haunting me with no end in sight. For years I've dreaded falling asleep; I can't understand what the nightmares mean. Several times I've suffered from bruises on my arms, legs, and back. Some mornings I can't get out of bed.
If I remember anything in full detail, I try to write it down before going to school. Nightmares that are too difficult to follow, I often draw pictures and sketches of them in my notebook; this scares me the most 'cause drawings occur without any warning throughout the day. On
The end of the world came, but that was all to be expected.
2012, a number so carefully seeded into our minds, a prophecy that signified the end of the world. How much I cared for it was equal to the time I spent worrying about it. It sprouted, but then again, fear had limits. The watering can filled with anxiety and concern soon emptied itself. The seed, having no source of nutrition, would eventually wilt.
Who ever would have guessed that it would grow to become something more than just a flower?
Not only did it turn into a tree, it continued to swarm every part of me, so much that it now encloses me, becoming part of me. Ironically, I e
There was something to be said about a pain so intense it made one forget they were ever in pain in the first place. It seemed to knock him out of his own mind, letting him flow freely through a realm of nothingness. Despite the tranquil description, the feeling wasn't as calming as it sounded. It did little to relax him, instead filling him with a sense of urgency. As if he was at a great risk of some sort.
If he drifted too far, his mind told him, he would float away completely. There would be no going back. The most disturbing part was, for a few seconds, he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to return. What would be waiting for him when
In the wake of white lights,
And jade doctors and nurses,
We tearfully begin,
This tale.
In the shadows of willows,
On a bed without pillows,
Admidst tears and white roses,
We bid goodbye.
Yet all this existance,
Sins and repentance,
Mean nought,
When your bell has tolled.
Because this very second,
A lost drop of the present,
Has already departed,
The world we live in.
Time is a dreamer,
Of tycoons and schemers,
Time is the answer,
To all the questions unasked,
Time is a healer,
A swindling deciever,
Time is the only road,
We've ever walked on.
They say live for today,
Forget tomorrow,
And let go of what happened,
Gather round, gather round everybody! Because another tall tale shall be told, that is not too young nor to old. A tale about a cat called Carl.
Carl was born on a sunny July day, under a cardboard box that got lost on the side of a dusty country road, together with his two brothers and four sisters.
From the minute he was born his mother knew that he was special.
While all of his brothers and sisters were sleeping, he just sat there gazing into the horizon while twitching his ears.
As if he was listening to the world and understood what it said. While he could understand the whole world, he didn't understand his own language.
So afte
It was so easy to criticize her. The fact that she could smile when everything around her was shit proved to me she wasn't trying hard enough. She had silk hair and clean, shiny nails and god damn, I hated her for that. We were twins, but the way I saw it I got the short end of the stick in every way. I was young, and didn't know any better.
She knew I felt that way, and she just took every cruel word I dished out. It was, I guess, her price for freedom. She'd come home after a date with her boyfriend, and I'd be helping little Connor with his homework on the floor, and I'd see her happy face and the anger that was always, always there woul