Write, Wrote, Written discussion
Sorarin's Writing
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Schizo P-o-e-t-r-y
Wallow in thy self-begotten woe.
You've earned it; you've wrought it upon thyself.
Bask in thy self-inflicted confusion.
You've earned it; you've brought it upon thyself.
Cringe in thy self-loathing angst.
You've earned it; you've sought it of thyself.
Pessimist? Maybe,
but I've had my fill
of swearing by
Benefit of the Doubt.
***
×(As the sun sets on my dead body
I feel the cold crawling up my spine
And the diminished lights of the city
Slowly go black
This is the life I couldn't live
And that wouldn't let me die
This is the life I never had
And that others have taken from me
As the moon rises over my dead body
I feel that I have failed
And the hope that kept me going
Slowly fades away)
This is what I have become
And what I didn't choose
This is what they made me
And what I never wanted to be
As the sun rises over the dewy grass
They find my dead body hidden
And during all this time
No one even noticed I'm gone
They find the wounds and the cuts
And the track of scars on my skin
And autopsies reveal my inside is empty
Filled with pins and knives and razor blades
I never even lived
I died so long ago
***
The day passed
With rain in the morning, soaking me
Half a bottle of vodka in the evening,
drowning my sorrows in haziness
And endless thoughts questioning Why
I remember her
The little girl in her blue bathing suit, vulnerable
Me, nine years ago
The weather was so much better that day
There is no way of forgetting
The hand on my neck, choking me
The words, hissed not spoken
The blood and the fear and the pain
The day passed
With sunshine in the afternoon, warming me as I walked
Chocolate cake and tea without milk and sugar
And someone to talk to all night
The day passed
Life goes on as it always does
***
×The spider waits.
Its heart pounding impatiently under the thick careless flesh,
it strains every muscle in its ugly body
yet doesn't move. It has learned
that rewards will come in time. So it hushes
the greedy voice in its pitch-black heart, hungrily screaming.
It is ready.
The spiderweb glitters softly in the darkness.
It is woven, skillfully, in the uppermost corner
where it won't be spotted. Evil hides, disguises.
The spider built the web with its fat legs, covered
with long black hairs, and it built it well -
a deadly trap to satisfy its needs.
It is time.
Its prey is small.
The spider watches with empty eyes the tiny body caught,
entrapped, glued to its fate. Hardly enough flesh, it thinks,
but it will do. An opportunity at last. The prey is stuck,
caught while flying too high, never knowing
of the danger that lied before, unexpected. Was it too naive?
It doesn't fight.
The spider strikes.
Assassination is quick but seems to last all afternoon,
and the prey, giving up, feels nothing but the hot painful sting
evoked by the spider's heavy body, piercing its skin. The enemy's poison
guarantees endless suffering and an agonizing death.
Finally the spider - sweaty, sticky, yearning to ease the desire - eats its full.
It is never satisfied.
You've earned it; you've wrought it upon thyself.
Bask in thy self-inflicted confusion.
You've earned it; you've brought it upon thyself.
Cringe in thy self-loathing angst.
You've earned it; you've sought it of thyself.
Pessimist? Maybe,
but I've had my fill
of swearing by
Benefit of the Doubt.
***
×(As the sun sets on my dead body
I feel the cold crawling up my spine
And the diminished lights of the city
Slowly go black
This is the life I couldn't live
And that wouldn't let me die
This is the life I never had
And that others have taken from me
As the moon rises over my dead body
I feel that I have failed
And the hope that kept me going
Slowly fades away)
This is what I have become
And what I didn't choose
This is what they made me
And what I never wanted to be
As the sun rises over the dewy grass
They find my dead body hidden
And during all this time
No one even noticed I'm gone
They find the wounds and the cuts
And the track of scars on my skin
And autopsies reveal my inside is empty
Filled with pins and knives and razor blades
I never even lived
I died so long ago
***
The day passed
With rain in the morning, soaking me
Half a bottle of vodka in the evening,
drowning my sorrows in haziness
And endless thoughts questioning Why
I remember her
The little girl in her blue bathing suit, vulnerable
Me, nine years ago
The weather was so much better that day
There is no way of forgetting
The hand on my neck, choking me
The words, hissed not spoken
The blood and the fear and the pain
The day passed
With sunshine in the afternoon, warming me as I walked
Chocolate cake and tea without milk and sugar
And someone to talk to all night
The day passed
Life goes on as it always does
***
×The spider waits.
Its heart pounding impatiently under the thick careless flesh,
it strains every muscle in its ugly body
yet doesn't move. It has learned
that rewards will come in time. So it hushes
the greedy voice in its pitch-black heart, hungrily screaming.
It is ready.
The spiderweb glitters softly in the darkness.
It is woven, skillfully, in the uppermost corner
where it won't be spotted. Evil hides, disguises.
The spider built the web with its fat legs, covered
with long black hairs, and it built it well -
a deadly trap to satisfy its needs.
It is time.
Its prey is small.
The spider watches with empty eyes the tiny body caught,
entrapped, glued to its fate. Hardly enough flesh, it thinks,
but it will do. An opportunity at last. The prey is stuck,
caught while flying too high, never knowing
of the danger that lied before, unexpected. Was it too naive?
It doesn't fight.
The spider strikes.
Assassination is quick but seems to last all afternoon,
and the prey, giving up, feels nothing but the hot painful sting
evoked by the spider's heavy body, piercing its skin. The enemy's poison
guarantees endless suffering and an agonizing death.
Finally the spider - sweaty, sticky, yearning to ease the desire - eats its full.
It is never satisfied.
×Go to sleep and close your eyes,
Dream of broken butterflies
That tore their wings against the thorn
You know the pain that they have borne
Silver metal, shine so bright
Scarlet blood that feels so right
Dream of that blood trickling down
And wake up just before you drown
The moonlight's shining off your tears
As you bleed out your worst fears
So tonight when you start to cry
Whisper the lonely ones lullaby
Hushabye, baby, you're almost dead
You hardly have a pulse and your pillow's red
Your family hates you, your friends let you bleed
Sleep tight with a knife, cos that's all you need
Rockabye, baby, broken and scared
You didn't know life would be this hard
It's time to end the pain that you hid so well
And down will go baby, straight back to hell
Dream of broken butterflies
That tore their wings against the thorn
You know the pain that they have borne
Silver metal, shine so bright
Scarlet blood that feels so right
Dream of that blood trickling down
And wake up just before you drown
The moonlight's shining off your tears
As you bleed out your worst fears
So tonight when you start to cry
Whisper the lonely ones lullaby
Hushabye, baby, you're almost dead
You hardly have a pulse and your pillow's red
Your family hates you, your friends let you bleed
Sleep tight with a knife, cos that's all you need
Rockabye, baby, broken and scared
You didn't know life would be this hard
It's time to end the pain that you hid so well
And down will go baby, straight back to hell
What it's like inside my head lately. Sorry for the imagery.
IT'S CALLED
ART
YOU BIMBO
*THROWS GLITTER ROCKS*
BECAUSE
LIFE
ISN'T SPARKLY
ANYMORE.
ART
YOU BIMBO
*THROWS GLITTER ROCKS*
BECAUSE
LIFE
ISN'T SPARKLY
ANYMORE.
Oh god, I'm sorry. There's "strong language" in that.
Happy in love?
I know no such thing.
It's pure torture.
Butterflies?
More like maggots
Feasting on my
Rotting insides.
_no butterfly feelings for me, only the maggots and killer bees.
I know no such thing.
It's pure torture.
Butterflies?
More like maggots
Feasting on my
Rotting insides.
_no butterfly feelings for me, only the maggots and killer bees.
I think that last ones pretty good, I like how you used that.
*begins typing out new poem*
*wrist twitches and phone flies across bed*
*repeats two times*
Sorry, dolls. They don't want me to share right now. I'll try again in the morning.
*wrist twitches and phone flies across bed*
*repeats two times*
Sorry, dolls. They don't want me to share right now. I'll try again in the morning.
It's fine. Listen to your hands. They're pretty smart. :)
Haha, yeah. Although the thing is, I've no control over my hands anymore. It's rather frustrating. And scary. But I'll try to post it later today.
You bunny me
Oh sleepy one
You travel much too far
You need rest
You need your sleep
You need to get a car
If you do not
Have a job
We're sure to kick you out
If you don't comply
And continue to lie
You should be stuck with a pout
Bunny me
Oh bunny me
You've got to be kidding
How does that
Make any sense
I'm sure they're only kidding.
Oh sleepy one
You travel much too far
You need rest
You need your sleep
You need to get a car
If you do not
Have a job
We're sure to kick you out
If you don't comply
And continue to lie
You should be stuck with a pout
Bunny me
Oh bunny me
You've got to be kidding
How does that
Make any sense
I'm sure they're only kidding.
((sora, im very sorry to interrupt this moment, bu i'm sorry, you too alice, i am sorry and I wish this had never happened. I knw i have very little involvement in this, but i still want to pay my respects)). :)
No problem, Aniza. You've already shown us that you're mature enough to know it's okay to apologize. Actually, you've shown me that twice already, and I'm very grateful.
Sora wrote: "No problem, Aniza. You've already shown us that you're mature enough to know it's okay to apologize. Actually, you've shown me that twice already, and I'm very grateful."
your welcome, I was just really confused and upset...
your welcome, I was just really confused and upset...
Thank you for apologizing, Zaynah. This time, more than an apology is going to happen, but I want you to know that I really appreciate it. Honestly.
e.e
You people type too fast. Lll
You people type too fast. Lll
Sora wrote: "e.e
You people type too fast. Lll"
:)
You people type too fast. Lll"
:)
Zaynah {♥Adrian Ivashkov♥...♥Edward Cullen♥...♥Tobias Eaton♥...♥Harry Potter♥...♥Magnus Bane♥} wrote: "Sora wrote: "Thank you for apologizing, Zaynah. This time, more than an apology is going to happen, but I want you to know that I really appreciate it. Honestly."
no problem Sora. I think we we a..."
Yeah. My end goal in all of this is that we can go back to being on-the-surface friends, and that you might realize the seriousness of what you said.
BUT I'm not talking about that here or now. I have poems to write.
no problem Sora. I think we we a..."
Yeah. My end goal in all of this is that we can go back to being on-the-surface friends, and that you might realize the seriousness of what you said.
BUT I'm not talking about that here or now. I have poems to write.
I like books as much as the next fangirl, but this is actually a rather... ehh... emotional and serious thread, so would you dolls mind deleting your chat posts (the serious ones can stay) and keeping it in a chat room? Thanks
Zaynah {♥Adrian Ivashkov♥...♥Edward Cullen♥...♥Tobias Eaton♥...♥Harry Potter♥...♥Magnus Bane♥} wrote: "AHAHA...BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!"
chat room...now
chat room...now
Sora, you continue to amaze me with your poems. I know I don't comment a lot on your work, but I'm just soaking up the awesomeness of it. :)
Can we have a famine please
Lots of flies lots of disease
Walk for miles beside the roadside
Eat the grass in the divide.
Watch the bones grow, flesh recede
Watch the women eat the weeds.
Can we have some lack of food?
I am in a famine mood
Shall we have the cats for dinner?
Collect the spiders when you’re thinner
Hunger hunger everywhere
In the water and in the air.
Lots of flies lots of disease
Walk for miles beside the roadside
Eat the grass in the divide.
Watch the bones grow, flesh recede
Watch the women eat the weeds.
Can we have some lack of food?
I am in a famine mood
Shall we have the cats for dinner?
Collect the spiders when you’re thinner
Hunger hunger everywhere
In the water and in the air.
You are amazingly talented. These are just.... Wow. Amazing, Sora. The first one was really good, because it had a creepy songlike effect to it, and you could just imagine the speaker. And the second one was so... Chilling. Not scary, not thrilling, not creepy. Chilling...
I just had the idea for that first one right before I wrote it. I've been researching music and how it affects certain things throughout, like, history. I'm not very good at it, so far, lol. So I wrote a poem instead.
The other one, well. Okay, it's true. But I've been trying to write it down for a long time. It's hard.
The other one, well. Okay, it's true. But I've been trying to write it down for a long time. It's hard.
But you wrote it all the same. I don't know if you have heard how bravery is defined. Not "doing something without any fear", but "doing something despite all fear".
×I’m in a catch 22.
I’m afraid of going mad.
If I have legitimate reason to be afraid,
then I might be nearly mad on the verge of sanity, and so really should be afraid.
If I’m not on the edge of madness, then I've no legitimate reason to be afraid.
In which case, I’m afraid of something that isn’t real and am a bit mad.
Either way I’m both frightened and/or mad.
...
It may be a catch 23.
I’m afraid of going mad.
If I have legitimate reason to be afraid,
then I might be nearly mad on the verge of sanity, and so really should be afraid.
If I’m not on the edge of madness, then I've no legitimate reason to be afraid.
In which case, I’m afraid of something that isn’t real and am a bit mad.
Either way I’m both frightened and/or mad.
...
It may be a catch 23.
The 1st one... It's really descriptive and subtle and I love it. Poetry. Really. The second is....... :) I love it a lot. The catch 22/23 thing gives it this super song like poetry feeling. I don't know why, but half of your poems sound creepy songlike to me. And I love them.
And I love seafood anyways.
And I love seafood anyways.
Same. One of my favorite foods.
What is this I see, there in the corner?
It's the shadow I fear, dark and tall,
With long nails and horns on his head.
It's the one who keeps me from going to bed.
I can almost see his smile,
His laugh I can almost hear.
I fear him...though I know he's not really there.
It's the shadow I fear, dark and tall,
With long nails and horns on his head.
It's the one who keeps me from going to bed.
I can almost see his smile,
His laugh I can almost hear.
I fear him...though I know he's not really there.
wow, sora.. i love ur poems... :)
That one is really good, really. I don't know how you come up with all of these. Or write all of these. They are beautiful and amazing Sora.
It's easier coming up with it than writing it. I think when you go through enough crap in life, it sort of just comes.
"Thank you for the tragedy, I need it for my art."
;)
"Thank you for the tragedy, I need it for my art."
;)
With stigmata wounds,
And a taste for theatrics.
I can't grow
In these arid, dogmatic dunes.
I've got more faith in magic tricks.
Cloning clowns like an adolescent god;
A flock of sheep riddled with arthritic faith.
My god's bigger than your god!
But he's about as present as a spectre or a wraith...