WriteMyke

Not so much desperate, may be even delusional Hard to find sleep even when awake Does vacancy beckon or is it just comfortable Should he be afraid when he is not Or upset that he is not yet gallant Ravage all that is imperfect, nothing would remain Burn the coffee table, find the missing piece Maybe cut a new, mash it down, make it aces Hang it. Nailed to the wall like a piece of artwork Throw a tantrum when no one admires it That should have convinced them Who really cares anyway, unconscious Distorted worlds reflect what must be Pine for the decoder, show what cannot be seen Wanted: navigator, zealot, decider Make me a believer; I dare you

I find it is like a sucker punch that is whispering a quick jab to the jawbone. Relentless, such as twisting my lip between my teeth; I do not stop until I feel dread and drink the iron flavor like wine. Sipping the pain as one would pleasure, I feel it spread all through my bones, like a droplet of a foreign liquid in purified water, expanding throughout and soothing my bitter resentment. My pearly whites plucking at a small fiber of flesh until it snaps releasing the acrid, maroon escape from my worse enemy but only for the very split-second of apathy found for every moment my heart flutters for no cause, every nagging hour that my affection stands without application and every instant that I realize I am still seeking. All I have found is a goddess that does not exist, a muse for a deceased artist, a harlot for saint and clown for my penance. They whisper a serenade from a fictitious place leading even the most willed to doom such as a siren calling through the night and turning the...

I'm taking creative writing. I believe that my portfolio will be expanding quite a bit in this class. My instructor has already declared that she's simply going to make us write. So, my blog should expand quite a bit as well. The particular assignment is to take the last line from a poem we like (Edgar Allen Poe - "The Raven") and make it the first line of our own, original piece. This is the result: Shall be lifted nevermore, Beyond the earth evermore Past the scarecrow of paramour To a place I’ve been before. Try to deceive against the grain, Abolished from the masses I came, Rise above the ashes of fame, To thyself, myself became. Teach the lessons of the past Knowledge of man amassed, Instruction manual of life surpassed To a place greater than vast. Grasped before the value of pain Fermented truth of solidified disdain Pushed aside my telltale bane The fragment of existence remains. Shall be lifted nevermore, Beyond the e...

It was a vivid image of intrinsic exaggeration, a frozen portrait of fluidity. Time did more than stand still; it ceased. Consciousness spiraled to an immense point of absence. There was no flooding luminance, no tunnel. One could say nothing existed and would fail to be ingeniously knowledgeable as opposed to saying entirety inexisted deeming one relentlessly axiomatic. However, the infinite void allowed the putrefying nothingness to consume perception into a bath of irrelevance, an infantile state of futile quiescence. Sans everything; it was an abyss of supreme nihility, a simplistic loop of nil. Suddenly there was sound. A distinct oscillation of a reverberated frequency resulting to an omniscient humming that numbly struck awareness like a chord. Then, like accosting winter as it hints insidiously into summer through the fingers of fall, I felt a flickering rime seep into conception. Next, a name was repeatedly called with a quiet overture of playground-style banter lofti...

Read at your own discretion, whilst filtering my aggression my dreams become an obsession, in an ambient location, away from frustration, your world, with abbreviation, your criticizing inquisition, in non-fiction, nor taking position. I know thyself through deterioration, in no need of introduction, just induction and justification through stubborn progression. I will take these legions and lead them to destruction! To find gratification, I must first seek the ratification in total conjunction, with this proclamation of explanation. I need no recognition, for my decision is in arbitration of this damnation. Twisted and fitted with acquitted acidic restriction I’m honed in to the big picture and I’ve about had it in. Finding that riddled with an unusual perspective, my life must be inconclusive with an intrusive speculation. Sit down, erase the frown of your periling situation, for the general population will cower in fear of your open emotion. Empathy is dead and so is freedom in thi...