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Alone Again"H-hello, my name is-"
I can't even speak anymore.
Lost in this world of madness,
No one would bother to listen.
No one would bother to acknowledge me.
"W-Wait! Can't you just li-"
As if knowing you don't want to listen,
I shut my mouth and stop my words.
You wouldn't pay attention to them anyways.
Or to me.
"Why can't you just loo-"
Knowing exactly why your eyes are down,
I stop mid-sentence and close my eyes as well.
We are both adorned in proper attire;
Only you are in a black suit.
"P. . .Please, look u-"
You won't see me because you can't.
You won't hear me because you can't.
You don't know I'm there.
Because your eyes are fixed on my corpse.
"N-No. . .No, come ba-"
You rose from your seat to leave.
Along with everyone else.
In my transparent state,
I could stop no one from leaving me.
I am alone.
Buried six-feet deep.
When the gates of Heaven open before me,
And I shyly stutter,
Memories. With a heavy sigh, I launched my bag from my shoulder down onto the tile floor. I slid off my shoes- and then froze as a soft chuckle resounded behind me.
"Who. . ." I began, but shook it off when it silenced as quickly as I had begun my sentence. It was just in my head. It sounded. . .so familiar, though. . . Banishing the thought from my mind, I concluded I just needed to get some fresh air. So, tossing my jacket onto the couch a few feet away, I made my way back out the door while rubbing my hand over my eyes. My blue-tipped bangs fell in front of my face, so I pushed them to the side and looked around; stuffing my hands into the back pockets of my dark blue jeans. The Indian-styled shirt I wore fluttered slightly as the wind blew- I shivered. Then that chuckling was carried back to my ears, followed by footsteps. I spun around, ready to beat anyone who was following me- but no one was there. The chucklin
Here's my Goodbye.Time has run out, for me. Everything's distant and I don't know what to believe.
It's so hard, lost in the world confusion. And I need to leave, for a while.
Tears lightly forming in my eyes, I pulled out my notebook and a pen. I flipped open the cover and tore through the pages of poetry I had written throughout the years. Stopping on an empty page, I began writing.
Life is so meaningless, there is nothing worth a smile. So goodbye, I'll miss you.
I felt nothing for life anymore. It was so. . .so pointless. I couldn't even smile a fake little grin like I had for months on end. I couldn't fake the happiness I hadn't had for so long. It was meaningless to try anymore.
And I'm sorry, but this is my fate. Everything is worthless, no one who wants me to stay. And I'm sorry, but I've waited too long. So here's my goodbye, no one will cry over me.
I'm not worth any tears.
I wiped my eyes and frowned at the multiple letters written to my family, friends, sister who lived
In My HeadPrompt: Write about what goes through the mind of a child's imaginary friend
Man, life really liked to screw with people sometimes. Am I right? Well, you already know me. If not, hey. I'm Daniel Heartless, the imaginary brother of a ten-year-old boy who is currently at school. I guess while he's learning in that boring prison, I'll let you know what I go through during the course of the day.
After waking him up in the morning, I'm sure to get him dressed and downstairs to breakfast. Why I do this, I have no idea. Because he needs someone to take care of him, maybe? Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Well, once that's over with I practically drag him up the stairs to clean his face and brush his teeth- then I'll get his shoes (and coat if it's cold enough outside) and since his parents don't seem to give a fuck, I walk him to school as well. If
Daniel HeartlessPrompt: You are a child's imaginary friend.
The young boy was crying; his face burrowed in one of the few pillows on his Batman-themed bed. It pained me to see him like this. His face tracked with tears and his hair slicked to his forehead- his nose slightly runny and his cheeks red from his hiccuping gasps in shortened breaths. Frowning, I sat on the bed beside the boy and placed my large hand on the back of his head. My voice, deeper from maturity as he had created me to be seventeen, spoke softly to him.
"Hey, kiddo." He looked up at me, sniffling, and threw himself into my transparent arms. "What's the matter, hm?" But I already knew what was wrong. I always asked out of habit- I've been around for years now. He always wanted an older brother, so one day he conjured me up from the depths of his imagination.
While I comfort this kid, I should tell you a little about myself. My name
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More