Internet StalkerSometimes I stalk you.Internet Stalker by ~iridiana
It’s always in those desperate moments that come with weekends – when work is over, and there are no thoughts to drive you from my mind, no exhaustion to dull the memories of everything you did.
I have a special account, for this purpose and this purpose alone. I can’t see all of your information, but oh – the time I’ve spent, scrutinising the smiles you adorn on your profile pictures. Hoping, wishing, praying to pull at strings of misery, hiding behind your teeth.
Are you well? Fit? Healthy?
No matter how hard I pore over what you reveal to the world, I can’t find any trace of gu
Published FictionHere is what I disliked about the place: it was efficient. Efficiency hung in the air and clung to the ties and blouses and pressed skirts and trousers of those around me. Clung like the scent of disinfectant; like industrial bleach, bleeding out the money in my words. I twisted, inwardly. This was not the place to bring my prose.Published Fiction by ~iridiana
T936126/JRWe're laid out on the porch, breathing in cool air and watching the sky slowly drown in its own fire. There's a silence between us, but somehow it feels different: sticky and caught up, like the words in her throat. She's been running over the creases of the paper in her hands as though in prayer, folding and unfolding, but never quite finding the courage to lay the whole thing bare between us. It ain't like one of those trashy bits of paper spiralling on the breath of the wind. No. This one's different. I get the sense that even if we tossed it, it'd be way too heavy to travel further than the spaces between our ribs.T936126/JR by ~iridiana
"Dear Mrs. [surname],"
Weathered PhoenixSweet, sweet songbird,Weathered Phoenix by ~DarknessInRomance
Sing to me your winter's song;
Though your soul may be freezing,
Do not give in to the cruel frost.
Allow the music to fill you up,
Warming your feather tips,
So you may fly free again
With spring's step in your wings.
All through summer, soar and sing,
Bear no shame in your identity
Or your free, natural, wild call;
Songbird, soar among summer's trees.
And once autumn returns,
With dying leaves and colder skies,
Hold fast to the warm summer breeze
That whispers songs in your ear.
Sweet, sweet songbird,
Sing the song unashamed.
Though your soul may be freezing,
You are a phoenix, warm and strong.
puking rainbowsIt's cold.puking rainbows by ~lolijoke
Your hand's warm, though.
I wish I could hold it forever.
It's cliche, like everything else I say, but it's what makes me happy. Our hands just touching is enough to either send electricity shooting through my body or for chills to go up and down my spine. It's either that or the butterflies.
It's almost enough to make me feel sick. In a good way, of course.
Puking rainbows, and all that.
An Anatomy Lesson If I collected the lies I've been told I could make myself a skeleton. 206 hollow bones made of hollow words. The bigger lies are structural support, holding up the rest of me. 33 dishonest "I love yous" could be 33 intersecting vertebrae, composing my curving spine.An Anatomy Lesson by ~AnUrbanNomad
I could gather shards of my 10 favorite broken promises to be my long, sharp finger nails. The 10 runner ups fit on the tips of my toes.
Spiderweb truths, theirs and mine, will weave my new skin. An average of 20 feet of sticky substance, easily to