to all the dreamers:
go ahead and build your air castles;
let no one tear them down.
you are just as strong as they;
but your armor doesn't show.
Untitledyou are still a pack of lies
like cigarettes or cynicism
but I will paint my blood (by numbers)
to make you stay
[if we always love what kills us--
then why don't I love myself?]
I trust you--a Tower of God fanfic (chapter 1.)“I trust you.”
Three words. Three syllables. And from Khun, an ocean of meaning.
Khun, who trusted no one—from him, the words meant just as much as any “I love you.”
Love could be fake. Trust could not.
Khun trusted him.
Bam stared up into the artificial night sky silently, his hands gripped tightly on the railing in front of him.
He'd messed up, that much he knew. When Khun had whispered those three words, as intimate as an “I love you”, he hadn't known how to respond, hadn't known what to say back. Looking back to the words, three hours ago, Bam began to notice the parallels between that lovely lunch between the two of them, and the date he'd had with Endorsi.
Had that been a date? Bam had accepted Khun's invitation innocently enough; after all, they were teammates. Had it been something...more?
Khun couldn't actually like him that way?
The sheer impossibility of it almost made Bam laugh. Surely Khun had
Untitled“We are alone in the universe.”
The announcement shocks me, not because of the meaning of it, but rather because of the forlorn tone of the speaker's voice. Amelia stands, silver skin gleaming, like a woman whose partner just died. The robot--my robot—is saddened by this realization too.
Against all odds, we are completely, unsolvably alone.
Silence reigns in the room as I turn back to my work.
“Maybe...perhaps the probe was faulty?” Amelia's voice isn't hopeful, and the gleam in her cyan eyelights is significantly dulled.
“It's the fifth one we've sent out, Amelia. It's against the odds that they could all be--”
“It is against far more astronomical odds that we are alone, Doctor Taso. We can't be alone.”
“We are alone. We have always been alone, according to the findings of the probes.”
“Don't you have any hope, doctor? Any..any doubts in your findings? Are you so secure in your infallibility that you would
Winter--6"Why?" my voice sounds small, or smaller than usual at least. The demon has been silent for the last twenty or so minutes of our walk, lost in thought, it seemed. I wasn't stupid enough to try to make a run for it--I know well enough that even distracted, he's more than a match for me.
"Why what?" still obviously lost in thought, he doesn't even look at me.
"Why are you kidnapping me?"
"I'm getting paid, why else?" a bit of sharpness enters his tone. Ah, so I've struck a nerve.
"Yeah but what kind of payment is worth committing a crime?" I don't expect an answer, so I'm obviously surprised when I get one.
"A wish. The Mother of Winter offered me a wish to get you back." He stares straight ahead, his eyes focussed on the distance.
"What wish?" Damn my curiosity. It isn't a good idea to piss off demonic entities, as I constantly remind myself.
"That is not relevant, child. Any wish I have can be granted by winter's Mother. No more questions. We're almost there, anyway."
Winter--5Chaos is a way of life. Unfortunately I was not the one that decided it would be my way of life.
But hey, I'd managed to run from the demonic-looking nutjob that had kidnapped me, so silver linings I guess.
I run through the forest quickly, though the terrain is rougher than I'm used too--my track jacket gets caught on a limb and I leave it; I have no time to stop and free it with that psycho probably right on my heels.
I realize about five minutes into my run that I have no chance. Like, guppy in a shark's tank level odds.
As much as I hate to admit it, Mr. body-mods is strong, fast, and probably not human.
I keep running anyway, my sweater getting caught and torn several times on branches. Even though I'm in track the terrain is cruel, and eventually I collapse bonelessly, resting my back against a tree.
Of course, that's when my personal psycho decides to appear.
A split forms in the air, dark red and angry looking. A second later he steps through and crosses his arms.
Winter--4The kid is awestruck, and rightly so. The forest around us tends to have that effect, at least until you're able to see through the glamour. I myself can, if only because I've lived here so long.
Even so, I let the kid keep his delusion.
He'll need it.
I unlock the car, and the kid immediately gets out, not even thinking of what might be lurking.
Teenagers. They're always so oblivious. As it were, the only thing lurking is my daughter, Lilith, her hair tied back in a long braid of brunette. She takes after me, but pointed ears peek through her hair, a sign of her half-elf heritage.
"Daddy! Welcome back." I make a small 'oof' sound as she tackles me. This was not, I might add, my most eloquent moment.
"No problem, Daddy. Well I should probably get back...papa will be worried and he's got his hands full with Luci and Noah..." with that, she leaves me and the kid alone. Except, the kid isn't there. A trail of footprints winds off into the forest.
Just my luck.
Winter--3."Are you going to kill me?" the kid looks way too frightened at that prospect. Ah, suburbia, making teenagers into deer since....whenever.
"No, kid. Not going to kill you." I slip my keys into the ignition of the muscle car I'd been loaned, ignoring the fact that I had absolutely no idea how to actually drive the thing.
"...but you're a hitman! Aren't you going to, you know..." he makes a motion, drawing his finger across his neck.
"No. And why aren't you impressed by my portal? I thought that was cool..."
"It was but I'm more worried about you killing me than some cross dimensional folding."
"Okay valid point. Now how to I start this thing??"
"You...can't drive? Who are you?"
"The better question is what am I." I pull off the cap that hides my hair and horns, and finally let my tail free of my trousers. I thank the gods I can even get it out, considering how tight the pants are.
The kid, true to expectations, backs away as far as he can, trying to exit the car. Thankfully, chil
Winter--2The kid is small, and I can't help but feel pity for him as he gets shoved around. Not enough pity to, you know, do something, but enough to realize that he reminds me of some people I knew.
Dammit. I was actually starting to empathize with this kid. Bad move.
I close in a bit on the kid, enough to intimidate the preps around him. He doesn't notice, distracted as he is looking down at his feet. Something told me the kid was way too used to this.
The kid, aka Sam Myrtle, aka Chill hangs a left turn into the guys bathroom. I decide that this is my moment to strike, catch the kid with his pants down as it were. And no, not sorry for the pun.
I step inside, and find the kid looking in a frosted-over mirror, crying. Damn, I thought I had issues. He catches sight of me watching him (and lightly cringing) and takes a step back, holding up his hands in defense.
"Get away from me! I'll fight back, I swear. I..I know judo!"
"No, you don't. I read your file, kid. Now c'mon, please st
Winter--1.Dear gods I hate the human world. It's hard enough to hide horn nubs and pointed ears, even without all the stigma about tails, not to mention holy water, churches, and pop culture references.
I hate it even more when I'm sent to the human world to find someone.
Have I mentioned that I hate faeries too? Because that's important, and if there's one thing I hate more than missions to the human world in order to find someone, it's missions to the human world to find someone who happens to be a lost changeling prince.
Yeah, I'm kind of having a sucky day.
I also kind of suck at looking like a human highschooler. Uniformly unique teens give me wary glances, sneering at my goth chic gear. Damn preppies.
In a streak of luck, at least I can track my target pretty easily. White-blonde hair, more white than blonde, covers his blue grey eyes. An overlarge sweater conceals what I know to be a pale body, the sleeves hiding his hands as well. I knew from his file that he had mostly A's in his
Little GirlThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well.
your poemyou tell me on a thursday that you can’t find
the god inside of yourself anymore, that
you think that you are finally
too much honeycomb and not enough human
because lately everything has been slipping
through your fingers, and you don’t know how you can
keep holding yourself together anymore.
if today is the day that you look
at the stars and you no longer
feel their burn beneath your bones,
i will show you the blanket i tried to make
when i was eight, and i will tell you all i know
about the string theory, which isn’t much, i admit,
but i do know the basics,
and that’s that everything in the universe
is composed of strings that somehow
loop onto each other infinitely.
so whenever you feel like you’re
walking a tightrope without a safety
net below you, know that you are
thousands of tightropes strung together,
and one fall will not kill you.
i have never told you about the way
i can feel my pulse skitter to a stop
in my wrists whenever i hear you laughing
stardust. (you're beautiful)he's
out of orbit -
dust in his
veins rise and
each word that
drips and pools
defined like the
ribcage of a
baby bird, his
were not made for
this earth but
for the stars.
some days he
fades in and
out of reality like
he never really
wanted to be there
on those days
i just think
my god, you really don't
realise how amazing you are.
Depression Isn't RealDepression isn’t true, my dear
Depression isn’t real.
It’s just a silly tragedy
You’ve forced yourself to feel.
Anxiety is fake, my friend
You wonder why it’s there.
But others have it worse than you!
Stop forming false despair.
Cutting is dramatic, love,
It’s ugly, and it’s dumb.
Why not just get over it?
Is the attention fun?
Suicide is stupid, dear,
And selfish, if I may.
Get over yourself, darling,
Can you hear these things I say?
Why aren’t you replying, love?
Oh, where could you have gone?
I never meant to hurt you, love,
Did I say something wrong?
Why aren’t you replying, dear?
Depression isn’t true!
Oh, but yes it was, “my dear”...
Just maybe not for you.
it's okay to not be okaysometimes it’s okay
to sit on the floor of the bathroom stall
and let your feelings gather- it’s okay
to let them pool like a lachrymose lagoon
as the inside of your stomach does summersaults;
I know these emotions can’t be tenderly released,
they’re not soft waves kissing the expecting shore,
let them pour out of you like tidal waves-
release the tsunami from within you
and I know sometimes the tears will sodden your pillowcase,
they’ll be juggernauts- those brackish beads
cathartically-cartwheeling down your flushed cheeks;
but remember how even the clouds
may cry tempestuously today,
only to make room
for much brighter days
so I promise you, darling
it’s going to be okay.
An Angel's Promise'Thou art mine,
And so thou shall remain.'
I will not let you have any other before me,
Nor can there be any after.
For it is your soul that I have shared
And it is your soul that I do take.
Your worship is the blood that flows through me.
Your praise is the heart that pumps life into my veins.
I have accepted that which is torn;
And if you are not whole before me,
Then by my will and word,
You shall be made whole.
So fear not this frigid world,
Though its cold bites deeply into your flesh.
I shall take that which has been torn from you
And weep life into it,
Until only warmth remains.
For thou art already mine,
And so thou shall remain.
For My PeopleAs far as I can recall:
I did not ask to be birthed
Into a cycle of stagnation.
I did not ask to be told,
That my dreams are achievable;
Only to see them limited by the scope of reality.
I did not ask for a failing system,
Passed unto me by half-dead corpses wearing suits.
Nodding eagerly at one another,
As they wait for an inevitable death.
This I did not ask for,
And I am certain that most of you did not either.
But it is for that reason,
And for that reason alone, I say:
That it is up to us,
We siblings bound by the chains of our forefathers,
To create a system that is better,
Than the bitter shackles of the past.
Justice is what I long for.
Justice for MY people.
You Never Really Were ThereYou're right here, I know it.
I can hear your voice,
I can see your eyes,
I can smell your scent,
I can feel my heartbeat
Speeding as you approach.
But when I reach out my hand
To try and touch your face,
You just vanish in the air,
Remembering me that
You never really were there.
a list of things colleges don't want to know1. i have a cactus named atticus that i bought
on the day i thought i was going to die,
and i never forget to water it, not
even when i forget how it feels
to breathe without my lungs rebelling
against my brain.
2. sometimes talking feels like walking on gravel
in a Georgian summer heat.
i try to keep talking anyway,
and hope that eventually
my voice will lose its softness and grow calluses.
3. once, a man whistled at me
outside of a grocery store from
the safety of his car.
four years later, i still haven’t stopped looking
over my shoulder.
4. i drive too fast and i take turns too sharply
and i never put enough sugar
in my tea and i could probably survive
on watermelon alone. i’m left handed
and once taught myself to write only in capital
letters to piss off my seventh grade english teacher.
5. i have never felt closer to my father
than when we stayed
outside till two a.m. in november and watched
a meteor shower.
6. there are some things
i don’t think i’ll ever