survivalishard

I can't be beside her without that feeling. The one where she's gorgeous and lovely and I'm so very, very small. She's the spotlight, the sun against the moon, and I'm the cheap bulb that takes too long to turn on and once it does it still isn't bright. But she is so wonderful and she just doesn't believe a word of it, not one. And I want to tell her, I want to tell her that I think that she's perfect and that she's the only thing on my mind ever and that I love her, oh, I love her so much, but I can't, and I never say anything at all and that makes me so sad.

It has been quite some time since the sun slipped to sleep and the stars danced into view. However, my mind is not following the sun's lead. Though my body lies still, My mind twirls with the stars. But what awkward fellows are silent when they dance? (Not the stars) My mind slides into the loveliness of the bright words. "Let us stay here," they breathe. "Let us stay here, and let them envy us." "Let us stay here. We can dance, and they can long to join us." When the stars catch sight of me, They are shocked. "She made it," they mutter. The stars now admire me. They wink at me in the morning before retreating away sile

As far as I'm concerned, that woman is gorgeous        Not that I care for her             (Not that I don't)        After all, she is the loveliest Thing many of us have ever seen.             (Think about it.) Those eyes that can't be compared to much        Apart from, perhaps, a clear winter's night sky             (Even then it is nothing compared t

The night was a prison; the girl, the prisoner She saw herself as hideous, with her porcelain skin and dark hair, that could, with closed eyes, be mistaken for silk. She called herself Allison, a name of truth. Her heart mimicked her name's meaning, the sincerest form of flattery. Until daylight, she was trapped in her thoughts Brooding and frightened by them as if they were demons. If the girl was a prisoner, the boy was a thief. Ready to take the captive from her jail. So the thoughtful thief of courage stole through the prison, a snake in grass. The prisoner will be rescued. He continued 'till he saw her, and her beauty took h

A Mirror There's a mirror On my wall It used to like me At least, it didn't Break my heart Every time our gazes Met But Now I think my Mirror Knows only malice For each time our gazes Meet I want to Hide So Now There's a mirror On my wall That I avoid Because the image It shares with me Hurts more than anything I could do To myself Society's Beauty Beauty only mattered When we swung Through the air And tried to touch The sky Now we care about Only how we look, How others look Pencil-thin frames and Stick-straight hair and Powdered glossy cheeks and Fragile-looking features Society's image of beauty is T

For petty reasons Many yell Many shout Many voices are raised To be heard over the petty yells And the petty shouts Why fight Over something So trivial? What is the Point Of ruining a whole Relationship Because of petty yells And petty Shouts? I do not think I will ever understand Why lovely bonds are Torn by Petty yells And petty shouts

There is a man On the side of the road He is often passed Without a glance Or a spoken word The man does not mind Some days I see the man Talking to people They are often crying The man has wrinkles on his cheeks And an untrimmed gray beard The man does not mind One day I approach the man He says "Tell me your story" So I do I think I cry I reveal my scars The man does not mind

Her eyes are Hazel fires Burning Flaming in the iris They are not held They burn And flare Threaten to destroy But they are beautiful So very beautiful I cannot Bring myself To look away

 Jupiter sat beside Saturn as usual, every now and then giving her a quick once-over. A lovely woman, but she was with Venus, not that he minded. Of course, whenever he wasn't looking, she was. Saturn didn't care for Jupiter the way everyone knew Earth did (except himself, since along with that fact each planet knew that Earth wasn't great at identifying his wide range of emotions, broader than anyone else's), but he was like a brother to her and she worried about him. Just a few days ago when he'd taken that asteroid for Earth and the others, it hurt him. Earth rushed to his aid the moment he heard about it, of course. What else did anyone e

I don't know why I helped the woman in the maroon dress. Or, tried to. I would be lying if I said that my short conversation with her ended well for me. I'd tell you what happened, but… it's difficult to recall. By difficult, I mean painful. It physically gives me a headache when I think about it—my time out there. But if you still want to know, fine. It was evening, the pastel colors of the sunset fading gradually into black. On my walk home from working an overtime shift, instead of the usual route through some alley shortcuts, I'd decided to take the park, where it was well lit. It was brisk out. I had goosebumps even with my j