[x]

Please, Let Me Live...A cold voice ripped into her thoughts, "And you? How do you live life?"
She remained silent, expressionless, her face might have belonged to either a sleeping child or a corpse. However, inside, her head was whirring:
I live life by living. I'm sociable to people, and a select few of those I love. In the day time I go outside and breathe, because the air is fresh and clean. In the night I dream of places I've never been, of bright eyes and city lights. Sometimes when the world gets too big for my head to contain I write it all down, and live on paper. I exhale words onto the page and watch them form their own life and message. In a

Something You Couldn't StopSometimes when it's very dark, sometimes when the air becomes infected with deadly silence, sometimes when all I can feel is coldness and pain and sometimes when life seems to solidify into uncaring concrete, I hear your voice. Just yours, whispering into my ear.
    And you only ever say two words.
    "Carry on."
    This murmur in my ear allows some light to filter in through the darkness, it shatters the silence, melts the ice, soothes away bitter pain and brings softness back into my world. Only these words are never true, they sound in my head but never in my ears. Because

Death's Breath On A Young Neck   "Are you okay?" asked the voice from above.
"Yeah, I'm fine," replied the girl, alone and sobbing in the dark corner.
   "Are you.... Are you entirely sure of that...?"
"Yes! Now go away!" she would have screamed it, but instead she choked on her tears.
  But I'm not okay, the girl thought, and comforting hands on my shoulders mean nothing to me. That's why I continually shrug them off. Not because I am haughty, or proud, but simply because to me they are a waste of time.
   Later that evening the girl's mother entered the room, "Hello sweetheart, how are you?"

Tongue Bitten SecretsWhen a tongue is bitten secrets well up like blood. The metallic taste spreads dark rumours around your mouth and your white teeth take on a sinister discolouration. Walking along you spit out the blood, the pain and the hurt onto a pavement and you leave it behind to rot.
Because it's not your problem, not anymore. Now the blood and dark spit cling to somebody else's shoe and, as that person travels, so do all those tongue-bitten secrets that you thought you'd left behind. Sooner or later it'll come back, the blood will be back on you. When that night comes you'll wake up in a cold sweat and tears will run down your marble

The White FlowerIn a clinical vase lies the White Flower. Her hair is as soft as dainty white petals, and spreads over her pillow in the same way that cherry blossom litters the ground in spring. Although her skin is deeply creased, you can tell that she once blossomed like no other, for her cheek bones are well formed and her nose perfect.
The White Flower's body is slender, almost as if the rot growing inside her has devoured all the fat, all the muscle. Every sort of wire is connected to her, some are embedded in the skin of her hand whereas others snake tendrils across her face. It doesn't matter what purpose they serve to prolonging her sorry li

Forced Happiness is SadnessThey tell me to smile, but how can I?
How can I smile with your voice continually in my head? How can I live when you engulf me in darkness? Life isn't for forced happiness, it's for weeping and crying and feeling genuine emotion. So please, don't hold a knife to my throat during unknown times and make me 'grin and bear it'. I don't want to feel that cold metal biting into the soft flesh of my neck. I have no desire to have foreign sentiments injected into my heart.
Why do you force me to wear such startlingly bright clothes, when all I want to do is spin in green fields wearing black satin? No one should be made to disgu

He Should've Said NoA pair of smooth, pale lips leaned towards his ear, "Come with me."
The boy's grey eyes widened, "No."
The lips continued to speak, words burrowed like little murmuring worms into the boy's love-sick brain, "I can show you the world. You'll never know what you missed unless you come with me."
"No." But his heart was thumping.
"I can play you such sweet music."
"No." Yet, despite his refusal, the boy's feet were itching.
"Let me show you how the sunshine can glitter off sand on far-flung beaches-"
"No."
"-As the sun sets on the horizon."
"No!" the boy almost shouted.
Twitching, the lips smiled, "Are you

Non-Existant Grey EyesThe smothering night sat all around her dozing body. Weighty, overpowering and dark. It seemed that these days the world was in a state of continual darkness, everything was just so dire. Dire all the time. If only there was a little light, a little something, a bit of grey amongst all the black pressing down on her sorry eyelids, then maybe one day she'd be able to smile.
Behind the girl, something moved. Only ever so slightly, but still, the movement had been there. Her body tensed as two arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. In trepidation her knees knocked together as his feet brushed against hers.
Softly, like an ai

The Soul Catcher And The GreyI saw your eyes on the horizon tonight, staring at me in a perfect grey picture. They were beautiful. I saw your soul dance and breathe in the green sea today. In that moment I was reminded of your purple converses and wilful smile. In that moment I knew that nature was mourning you too.
Behind me a man with a camera took a picture, I don't know why, maybe he saw you standing, gazing, over my shoulder. You see, my friend, if I had a camera and I saw your twisted curls and sculpted face... well, I'd take a picture too.
Your soul was everything. It was too whole and too pure for the sin of love to touch. It was as well round

The Hidden Truth of Metaphors  The little girl pointed to a tramp slumped in the unseen depths of the bustling high street, and tugged on her mother's raincoat, 'Mummy,' asked the girl, 'What is that man?'
  Pulling her daughter along, the mother said, 'He is a metaphor for all that matters in the world, my child, he is an inspiration both to you and me. His life is harsh, and his clothes are caked in mud and mould, but still he carries on. Quivering through existence like the way a candle flame burns on the 24th of December. That man is the key to human endurance.'
  This answer satisfied the girl, and she did not speak again until she sa

Satin WordsSatin words on the ferry deck enlighten glistening waters with laughing grey eyes. A desperate desire chokes my soul for I need to join those eyes, those arms.
I need to hold you, to smell your hair, to cry and laugh and hug you. But you are gone, and I remain here. Unworthy. An emotionless slab of crumbling concrete.
Leaning forward I gaze into those cold waters. As it breathes gently, the water is made silver by the stars and the moon. Moments, minutes, hours pass as I contemplate the fall. And the fall's reward, which is – of course – to be delivered into your long-gone arms.
My decision is reached. Throwing myself f

A Silent Exclamation Mark "They're arguing again," Said the boy, "My parents always argue. If their relationship was punctuation, then theirs would be an Exclamation Mark. I'm quite sure of it."
The girl, who was sitting on the garden wall beside him, giggled, "How can you compare love to grammar...? The two things are very different."
"Not to grammarians!" pointed out the boy, "No, it can. You see, my mum and dad are always arguing – but never seriously –and at the end they always kiss and laugh about it. Go on, think on it, what would your parents be?"
The girl's smile slid like a tear from her face, "My parents would be a question mark," she mur

I've Lived Too Late, Too LongBefore I die I want to feel tears of happiness on my cheeks and taste deprived laughter on my tongue. I want to have lived a strange and mysterious lie, but I hope that I've planted the truth in every child's head I've touched.
In my heart I know that I wish to experience hate and tip toe along the lines of love. There is no point in living a bland and unexciting life for that is not living at all. For my right to breathe and survive I'll have fought disease and vanquished those who would put me down. In my hand I'll hold a swatter and squash mosquitoes carrying vanity and meekness because I refuse to be infected.
In the evening I'll

The Blame of Copper and ViolinHer eyes are downcast, and her mouth a jagged line, "Why did you do it....?"
His perfect lips moved slowly, forming hard and uncaring words which crashed into her heart like boulders, "What did I do?"
A cold tear rolled down her cheek, her heart was no longer a roaring furnace, it couldn't make her tears warm, "Why did you kill him?"
Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Why did you kill him?"
She leapt to her feet, an ember of indignation flared faintly in her voice, "I never killed him! That was you! Just you! I loved him, and held him, and kissed him and danced with him and-"
"And never cared enough to notice the colour of his

We Only Exist In The Now Her eyes wide, the girl stood in front of the mirror. Its surface was covered in condensation. Tentatively she reached out and touched the cold sheen of reflective sweat.
Within the mirror her lips moved, yet in real life they remained stationary, "You are the story teller....?"
Slowly, she nodded, "I am the story teller."
The mirror girl continued to speak foreign words, "Then tell me a story."
This time the real girl shook her head, "I have no story to tell...."
Smiling, the mirror girl flashed her demonic teeth, "Tell me about how he used to sneak into your room at night. Tell me about how he beat

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 1.0 KB more ▶

More from ~Peghan

A Little Golden OwlThere once was a little golden owl, who sat in the topmost branches of an old oak tree.
He never moved, he never spoke, and instead he just watched the world unfold beneath him. New stories were continuously being printed onto blue air as people met beneath the tree and wove their own tales.
Couples met and couples broke apart, children were buried in the yonder graveyard and old people sat beneath wrinled yews and mourned the loss of their beloved. Seasons came and seasons went. Winter kissed the owl with frost, and the summer attacked him with hot fury, bu

Hunger in Two CulturesHunger is a gnawing thing, with sharp teeth black and grasping. Burying itself into sleeping children's guts, causing pain and dreamless gasping. Mouths taste hollow and faces turn sunken. Living corpses tread along dusty roads, searching for food, searching for water. Across the country starvation causes hidden slaughter.
And then there are those who long to look like those children. They long for bodies small and shrunken. They want to be models, singers and stars. But they never spare a thought for those starving afar.

Copper Tinted FlamesHe had the most beautiful eyes. Perfectly round and deep. Loving, caring, soft. The irises were pools of brilliant green. Like grass, like copper tinted flames. They were sharp, and positively oozed of intelligence.
His eyes were the last thing I saw before I died. In bed beside me he lay, the knife blade between us. I was drugged, I never felt a thing. Not a thing but love as he carefully slit my throat. And his green eyes, murmuring softly. Murmuring sorry.
With his help I evaded a lonely death. As I bled he held me, held me tightly. His weeping tears mingled with my blood. But

Writings In Lipstick- BipolarThere is writing on my mirror.

Writing in lipstick,
Charting my feelings,
The feelings I feel,
Deep inside.

Each day I add
To the growing mirror mural,
And now it is so covered
I can barely see myself.

Today was amazing everything went right and it felt as though everything I worked towards paid off and I've never been so happy in my whole entire life I'm so happy I cannot sleep I just want to dance and sing and walk and never stop and live and live until the world ends.

Look at you. Staring at me. Who do you think you are?
You're ugly.
Worthless.
Nothing you have ever achieved has been substantial. Why do you think you're so

Through The Fire"What's the matter?" Confused, The Other approached The Speaker.

"Just.... Leave me alone. Leave me be."

Touching The Speaker's arm lightly, The Other said, "No. Tell me. What's the matter...?"

"Go away!" the violent words bit into the soft air savagely, "You're always so clingy! And you never want to even try, do you? You always just want to stay where you know it's safe, don't you? We could be in such a good place right now, if you'd just try. But you never try, do you? You never even bother!"

The Other's eyes welled with tears, "Well, maybe you're the coward! I'm quite happy to stay here! To stay here and let everyone ridicule us! I do

I Will Remember You ChildI remember you child,
Your lips blue and cold against mine
As I tried to kiss you back to life.

Your body freezing,
Your body drenched,
Hugged only by water's cruel fingers now.

You fell in love with the lake,
No one could save you
As your small, innocent body was caressed.

Caressed by arms not belonging to me,
Caressed by the lake.

And the crowd gathered and watched and wailed and wished it had not been so.
But it was so.
Just me, an empty drenched shell that was once you, and
Shapes, swimming in blurred tears.

I will remember you child,
Your lips blue and cold against mine
As I tried to kiss you back to life.
*****
I rem

View Gallery

Featured in Groups:

#Scribblers-Anonymous
your ever-friendly lit club!

#ink-x
Anything goes. Spill your ink.

#Unseen-Writers
For the writers and readers

#LooseLacesPoetry
Poetry Feeds Our Souls

#The-Free-Pens
A Writer's Sanctuary

#knownames

#Half-Way-There

#The-Poetry-Cafe
Poetry and Writers Welcome!

Show all (27)

Details

Submitted: July 21, 2011
File Size: 1.0 KB

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 95
Favourites: 157 [who?]
Views: 2,553 (0 today)
Downloads: 42 (0 today)

[x]

In Heaviness We Are Happy

by ~Peghan, Jul 21, 2011, 2:00:46 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Short Stories

Sometimes hearts become heavy, this doesn't necessarily mean that they are unhappy. It simply implies that they have become weighed down by love. They've lived life and, although their bearers have tasted misery, still survived to breathe another day. That's special. If you've never cried tears of true sorrow then you haven't smiled with true happiness either.
Hearts become heavy because love isn't like helium. Love doesn't float in the clouds, it is weighty like metal. That's what makes love so precious, because like gold we cannot afford to lose it. You see, because of love's heaviness, we notice when it's gone.
Sometimes hearts become heavy, this doesn't necessarily mean that they are unhappy. Light hearts are lonely hearts, they've nothing to grasp onto. There is nothing to attach their insubstantial forms to reality, and so that is why some hearts are heavy. It's because they are alive.

In Heaviness We Are Happyby ~Peghan

Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Short Stories

I should be banned from writing late at night. I should be banned from writing full stop

Brain hurts >.<

love 4 4

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~MusArtLit Sep 10, 2011 General Artist

~Peghan Sep 11, 2011

Thank you

~MusArtLit Sep 11, 2011 General Artist

you're welcome in this piece of yours i can see a part of my life reflected is so deep and true you deserve all the faves and watches ever

~Peghan Sep 14, 2011

Aww, thank you!

~DazzlinDave Jul 30, 2011

Very poignant, you have quite a deep perspective.

~Peghan Jul 30, 2011

Thank you

~elgonzoonyx Jul 27, 2011

Exactly.

~Peghan Jul 28, 2011

Thank you

~xXChaosesTwinXx Jul 23, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

I've never thought of it this way . . . I think I have to agree though. And you should not be banned from late night writing! You should encourage it!

~Peghan Jul 24, 2011

hehe, Thank you!
lol, but it's such a bad habit to get into

More from ~Peghan

Featured in Groups:

Details

Statistics

In Heaviness We Are Happy

In Heaviness We Are Happyby ~Peghan

The Journal Portal

Polls

What is your preferred drawing software?

deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]

Keep in Touch!

Deviousness

Add Media

Style