I heard that we're disposable,
the people that walk the earth,
so let me burn your body
and leave your ashes on the hearth.
BeautyRandall's grandmother had always told him that there was beauty in everything in this world. She had, however, never taught him how to see it. Almost twenty years had passed since she had first told him those words,and, as he watched his ex-girlfriend's apartment complex burn to the ground, he finally knew that his grandmother had been right.Beauty by checkminus4life
His ex, Amy, had never really done anything to deserve her apartment burning to ash, nor did most of the people who lived in her building. Some of them, however, probably did. Mr. Leonard, for example, probably deserved it if for no other reason than his bad taste in television and his love of watching it several times louder than necessary. The Thomas twins also probably deserved it, not for their creepy incestuous relationship, but for the fact that they were so damn loud about despite running so far from anyone who cared.
"Randall, the fuck are you doing here?" Amy asked, her cheeks covered in mascara that was making a run for it.
The Princess and the Wizard Once upon a time, within the Kingdom of Hathelvania, there lived the lovely Princess Isabella. The princess, though still a young girl, was adored by all of the kingdom and especially adored by her father, King Anthony Cerullo. Upon her fifth birthday the king commissioned the court wizard, Galathir, to read bedtime stories to the young princess every night. Galathir, who had never had a child of his own, smiled and gladly accepted the task.The Princess and the Wizard by checkminus4life
"Good evening, your highness," the old wizard said with the voice only a benevolent old man could muster. "Your father has asked me to tell you bedtime stories. What kind of stories do you like?" The little girl thought for a moment, and finally a great smile spread across her face.
"Tell me stories from when you used to go out and do things for my father," she said. Isabella, who had not yet been allowed to leave the castle, loved to hear tales about the outside world and the wonders that it held.
Memories ExpandingMemories seep into my mindMemories Expanding by checkminus4life
like water into pavement,
taking hold and expanding
until my mind is forced to crack around them
leaving gapping potholes
between the folds of my brain
that exist as a physical reminder
of what once was.
where the memory of you
has eroded everything,
leaving nothing but a dark hole
where so many other things used to be.
But now I have to pave over it,
create new folds to
fill in what's been lost,
new stretches of road to
cover up the past.
And I find myself desperately searching for the
mixture of everything I need to do
to cover up everything I remember of you-
to mask the things you said,
and all the things I wish that we did.
Trying to find new ways to make black tarmac
to cover up the black scars that
no car could drive on.
Making new asphalt
to cover up the fault lines
that shock my mind
into racing overtime
whenever I am thinking of you
and the things that we could do.
Instead I am a construction worker
working over time in order to
|The newest stuff, be sure to check out the Personal Favorites folder for a smaller selection of poems that are (in my opinion) my best works|
Cut that shit out, seriously...This was first a journal, but enough people urged me to make it news, so here it is.Cut that shit out, seriously... by Rahll
I normally don't like to stir up trouble, but I've been noticing some things around this site that really irk me. Artists to be more specific, which I'm certainly not going to name. I'll break it down into a couple categories.
Also, I apologize for this being long, but I honestly think it's something all of you should read. It's important for not only you, but for the site and other artists.
There are artists on here, namely a handful of extremely popular ones, that show almost no improvement in their work over the years, yet people go more and more crazy over all their stuff.
I don't understand how it is that these artists can be satisfied with staying at the same level of quality and technique, and sometimes even regressing. Some of them don't ever venture out from their norm, and are completely satisfied with creating the same thing over and over again with the same, or