[x]

because love is a lesson in trial and errorI wish I had the words to tell you what I mean. I used to store sentences between my breaths – things that I couldn’t say at the moment, but wanted to remember. Now I can barely string together enough nouns and verbs to make you understand exactly what you mean to me. And I’m afraid.

I’m afraid that if I can’t get it together fast enough I’ll lose you. It’s like your water slipping through my fingers and I’m not quick enough to chase you through the currents. I know enough to know that you’re wild and free in a way that I’ll never be and maybe I’m jealous of that. Or maybe I&r

Futuro-Mamá esa chica se parece mucho a la tía Isabella -cuando escucho decir esto a Amanda, dirigiéndose a la Candace del futuro, una sola idea salta en mi cabeza haciendo eco e inevitablemente tengo que decirla en voz alta.
-Oíste eso Candace, voy a casarme con Phineas!
-O Ferb -me responde ella dejando mi mente en blanco.
Dirijo mi vista al peliverde y este me giña un ojo mientras hace un gesto con su mano señalándome. Bueno lo que dice Candace es verdad, para ser tía de Amanda tendría que casarme con Phineas o... Ferb.
Miro fijamente al chico frente a mí y de pronto todo desa

She was distant.Her emotions sat on the ceiling.

Music Shuffle (Kyrie)Cage the Elephant – “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked”
The sun finally sank below the horizon. Under the cover of a moonless darkness, the proxies slipped stealthily between the trees. The densely packed forest offered excellent protection from peering eyes, and so familiar were they with the many pitfalls and snaring brambles that they glided along effortlessly.
Masky took the lead, guiding his two charges along toward the night’s goal. Hoodie followed at a short distance, his video camera fully charged and stocked with a fresh tape. Close beside him was Kyrie, bringing up the rear and making sure the

LindaI’m not what you would call a special woman - I live in a small town, with my husband, have an ordinary job and live an ordinary wife. In one way, however, I guess you could say I have an extraordinary life - because every midsummer’s day, I seem to get robbed in my own house. I don’t know what I do to deserve it, but that’s what happens.

I still remember the first year it happened - we had just moved into the house, with my daughter who was then about twelve, and she had gone to a friend’s house while my husband was out to work. I was taking the day off, doing some things around the house, and in those days

The Blood on Our HandsBut it feels so good.

To touch the open slit is pleasurable beyond belief. Of all of my fantasies, it was never conceivable that I wanted this. It was never that I felt so satisfied drenched in the afterglow of my adrenaline-bred homicide.

The swooping curdling in my veins remains beyond the last breath of him. It feels like I need more, like the blood on my hands isn't enough to slake the drought in my bones that vengeance has brought. My fingertips touch at the open gash in the left-center of his chest, swimming there with dainty strokes in the fresh, bubbling blood.

What have I done...? And why do I need more? Why does it feel like the

they marked me blue and yellow, mama.between graffitied walls and a lone, chipped sink, they watched me curl in upon myself and combust. it was the only way i knew of to stop the swirling in my hips and heels.
a week later i found emma, the smallest of the vultures, kneeling at my altar. and with her wing-bones hunching and heaving, she mimicked my combustion.
but her eyes were violet when she saw me. violet and brimming with the emptiness of her heels. and i knew. i knew that this could not hold her the way it held me.
and mama, that hurt more than anything. her heels were empty, mama. empty. empty. empty. the way mine should have been, if only you had kept papa away.
if only you had kept away the first vulture i had ever know. if only, mama. if only.

Sweet Nothings'if i could, i would devour you. i would eat you whole, consume you mind, body, and soul. because i am a selfish person. i want you all to myself. no one else may have you.' he said to her, as they lay tangled in each other.
her reply came with a sleepy smile.
'there is a part of my mind which understands the intended romance in your statement. that part is wooed by it. there is also a part which insists upon my realizing the reality, the literal. you, my dear, are a cannibal.'
he placed a kiss on her head.
'well, we'll have to work hard then, to make sure that you are only wooed. we will make you want to be eaten. we will make it so that part of your mind which is literal, is quiet, so when i whisper sweet nothings into your ears, you are completely swept away. lifted off your feet by my obvious romantic intention.'

The Cat and IA biography of myself.

Real Name: I’m not telling, but KP stands for Kev Pickering

Nickname: I refer you to the previous answer

Birthday: July 16, 1963

Current Residence: North West London, United Kingdom

Height: 5’ 8”

Weight: Trying to lose it, thank you

Hair Color: Dark brown but turning grey as it recedes.

Eye Color: Hazel

Likes: Films, musicals, fine literature, my family, and graphic novels.

Dislikes: Shellfish, Lager, “Scripted Reality” shows.

Personality: I’m very shy until someone gets to know me, but those who do tell me I can be a very kind, gentle and yet silly person.

Biog

Smoke-stacked LungsLighting her cigarette, Mara watched the smoke trail up into the sky and block the blue the storm clouds couldn’t reach. She sucked in the unfiltered ash, closed her eyes, and marveled at the warmth that traveled down into her chest. The ash held her closer than anyone in the city had. She smiled, cracking open her eyes, but all that greeted her was wind blowing out the embers of her cigarette as tar slithered down her throat. She coughed, crushing the cigarette on the dashboard. She started her black Ford’s ignition, and watched the exhaust lingering around the car before the wind carried it away. With goose bumps, Mara sped onto

I need you home...the ceiling's dirty.Pairing: Phan/Anti-Phan??

Genre: Angst

Rating: 12+??

Warning: Possibly triggering

Disclaimer: I do not own Dan or Phil (sadly). This never happened and is purely fictional.

Summary: Dan's lost. He doesn't know how long it's been. He needs someone to save him.

~

I don’t know how long it’s been. 3 days? 2 weeks? 5 months? I can’t remember the last time I got up from his bed. It smells just like him, vanilla and raspberries - it’s like he’s still here. But he’s not.

He left a long, long time ago. We’d been arguing for a while, I’d said - well more like shouted - some mean things, he’d

RecursionRecursion

Day 12

I hate those infernal hounds.

I can hear them approaching. I regret now that I have not walled off this little corner of the forest that I have chosen to call my own. I am tired, I am hungry, and I am weak from the venom of those spiders. I fear I have just enough time to fashion a spear before they come for me.

Wilson's hands shook as he read the words in the dying firelight. The darkness pressed in against him all around, crawling inward as the fire sputtered.

Those were the last words on the page. Dark spots marred the edges of the papyrus, dried deep into the reeds. A thick swipe of brown streaked along the bottom as

Winter-childi found her in november, wrapped in a sweater.
they wheeled her away on a cart too big for her; two days old, half-dead and blue as the ocean.
i waited, her sweater held in hands that shook and shimmied.
they brought her back to me a week later; nine days old, pink-skinned and plump.
i named her in big letters on a yellow form as she slept in the crook of my arm; mavis.

From Afar, Thunder RoaredLike a bright eyed magpie, I have been scratching out and collecting pieces of Joseph for years, his indecision fuelling my already redundant habit of nest-building.
On good days, I would take the wrinkles around his eyes; filled with memories he had tried to shed, they glittered in the deepest part of the night - beacons for lost hearts and flightless souls.
On days that were just some days, I would take the mishappen, roughly jewelled scars lining his arms, hips, thighs; within their imperfections I found facts, each with one thousand facets.
On bad days, I would take the marrow from his phalanges; in the soft light of morning it turned to mallow and stuck to my own bird-bones, a constant reminder of that which you cannot shed, no matter how many years you spend trying.
But like all nest-builders know, there comes a day when the nest fussing is over and the children must come to it but instead of children, tobacco fireflies fell upon our arms and set us to screaming.

The problem with Elia is thatshe could have been a violin.

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Morning Glory

by ~MegumiTierana, Feb 28, 2012, 7:58:25 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Alicia ran across her father's golden wheat field. She had defied him and pledged her love to the young, handsome farm aide. Her sight caught a hold of him, her feet dashed in his direction. He glanced up from his work, his eyes engorged on the graceful beauty.
"Alicia," he cried out.
"Lawrence," she cooed, falling into his arms. "I have fled from mine father. Pray tell, speak unto me your thoughts."
"My dearest Alicia," he leaned in to kiss her sweet lips.
Alicia leaned in.
"Don't stop believing," he said.
"Pardon," she politely stammered.
"Hold onto that feeling."
"What?"
"Streetlights, people, oooh!"
Alicia closed her eyes. When she opened then again, she found herself fallen out of bed, clutching her pillow.
"Good morning San Francisco, nothing like a little Journey to get you moving! It's 7:05 with a feel good 72 deg– ."
She reached for the clock radio and cursed her luck.

Morning Gloryby ~MegumiTierana

Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Day 55 – Rude Awakening

So I saw a prompt that said write the first line from a song lyric. I thought about Anna Nalick’s 2 am (Breathe). That didn’t happen. XD
Originally, it was supposed to be a ringtone and her friend calling. But it turned into a radio alarm. Yeah I tried to write all romantic novel like, but I think I failed at that LOLz…plus I think I had Journey in my head that day or something. I think this is funnier

*JohnYume Jul 18, 2012 Professional Digital Artist

LoL wasn't expecting that ending xD that was a rude awakening! I can relate though ;u; It made me laugh epscially with how sappy the dream was

~MegumiTierana Jul 18, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks Yume

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Morning Gloryby ~MegumiTierana

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