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Is, Was, Will Bei.Is, Was, Will Be
There was an oak tree, a bench, a stream, and a willow.
All of these things have no place in this poem, but poetic significance never made sense to me anyway. Let’s say the oak tree is me, and you are the bench, although I think you’d rather be the stream, and I wouldn’t mind trailing branches and whispering leaves.
No, I am the oak tree, and there is bound to be something in how I’ve grown from something warm, brown, and wrinkled, cupped in a palm and patted under earth. There’s nothing romantic about being a bench.
by =wonderfulrachel
Results DayFrankly, this was getting a bit ridiculous.Results Day
She’d had them for over an hour now, clutched in her suspiciously damp palm, but the only indicator that she’d even tried to open them was a slight loosening of the envelope flap on one side. And that hadn’t ended well. It wasn’t that she was scared of the results, per say…Just that she would be perfectly happy with never knowing what they were, and continuing her life in blissful ignorance. At least until she went back to school.
Come on, she urged herself. Come on. There’s more to me than this, it isn’t the be-all and end-all.
by =wonderfulrachel
traces.i. it occurs to me on a coach, in the early hours of the morning, that i've forgotten your hands.traces.
i've left them, curled around a mug on a stained kitchen worktop, pinkie comically raised.
you always said that manners were your fatal flaw.
ii. it occurs to me too, that i've forgotten your smile. or at least the teeth in it.
i distinctly remember one rolling between the carpet and the wall, and another, i threw into the toilet.
i find myself caculating calcium density,
and wondering: do teeth fl
by =wonderfulrachel
Favourites
The Meaning of LifeIt's funny. Even as the plane dive bombs, we all follow orders. Our seats remain locked and upright, and there are no screams. At least, there aren't any louder than the air's searing in two. It isn't a matter of whether. It's a matter of when.The Meaning of Life
We all know we're already dead.
My stomach is used to the aching butterflies. I've never enjoyed the feeling, but my father forced me onto roller coasters as a child, promising me that if I did not go, I'd be grounded. Some dad, right? It seemed like a stupid reason to be punished, though I knew that deep down, he really just wanted to be a kid. He just wanted to have fun wit
by =Osiristhrasher06
Tides“Nice place you’ve got, Ian. How long have you two been living here again?” The house was one of ten or so on the entire street. Peering out the living room window, Akira could barely make out the rooftop of Ian’s closest neighbors, though he could hear the ocean tide crashing on the sand outside the back of the house just fine. “We’ve been here for about four months now. Hard to believe it’s been that long already, isn’t it?” Akira shrugged, white tank top rising and falling with his shoulders. “I don’t know what to think, really. The last time I talkeTides
by `GaioumonBatou
Subtraction by AdditionIt’s three in the morning. Bright lights almost obscure the night sky, it seems to glow a reddish color; a solitary man in his kitchen downs a glass of water with two small pills; in another room a teenage girl is working on homework; a boy composing music in a small studio; woman on the computer furiously buying and selling stocks; businessman making sales; politicians having heated meetings; a senator wipes his brow, he’s been in this meeting twelve hours so far; at once, like clockwork, each glass at the table rises to meet an old political mouth, the pills sliding down their throats in unison; the tiring dusty men sudSubtraction by Addition
by =vgaer
geez louise.
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