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Post it. Or, if you don't have any yet, write some. I dare ya- wait, I double dog dare ya...
I'll do it:
Distance:
Better only half-imagine a significance in the oddly circumstantial
So not to think the coincidental is less than so, even if capricious
Because so many things have meaning within their context alone,
Our lenses have no set pigment, at least yours and mine do not
Accidents recolor the eye with which you see, aping hue of things but dreamed
Fancies which brushed the clouds only in the white of fancied blush, indulgent
Then impossible the deserved embrace I long to give
Despite the cloying entreat of a multiform affection
I know my words are weightless- in this satyricon text with which I paint
But gulfs are bridged by angled line and chosen letter, made with care
We are as that which flickers in a constellation we did not define
Separated by the empty space between, but within sight of one another
As I make these angles for you, in this moment nothing else has meaning
Even distance just a perverse detail imposed on charts long extant
So my angles are not dimmed, but shine singularly bright
Harried:
And when so pensive looking down, these darkling crows.
They leave the trees and under branches stoop to peck while cawing.
Reaching for silver chain about the neck or any shiny bauble.
Descending down to make a perch upon expectation's shoulder bare.
And despite caution's protest, abscond with the momentary glamour.
Then caw and cackle will box your drum and make for ugly shows.
Let the branches take the birds, and out of forest you must go.
Eyes narrowed, you smile the smirk of one who knows.
C'mon, now I've embarassed myself, so you all must too
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There was actually a writing thread in this section of the Forum, maybe you'd be better off reviving that...
http://forum.ifeelmyself.com/forum/viewtopic.php?id=829
There's also a wider 'what do you make' thread here:
http://forum.ifeelmyself.com/forum/viewtopic.php?id=818
Maybe it would be nice to get an update from newer members since both of those threads come from another era altogether.
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Considering that it is my chosen "career" (although the word "career" really doesn't seem right), I would be remiss to not post anything. I'm not typically very good at short-shorts--I rarely write anything I like that's under 3,000 words--and this is no exception to that (it definitely needs to be longer), but it's still kind of fun.
It's also pretty frightening to now have a link between myself and my profile here. But also not that big of a deal. If anyone is so nuts about me to search the Internet for a story I wrote, I suppose they're welcome to know that I'm a member of the classiest porn website around.
Cutting the Cord
I stole a candy bar (Twix) yesterday and later crammed it under my left breast so I could sneak it into bed. Mom would be mad if she found out. She says that eating makes me age, and that I get “all the nourishment I need” from the umbilical cord, but she slapped my hand when I was flirting with a cute guy. Guys don’t want to date me since Mom has to come along, but this one smiled and let me touch his arm. He said, “Your cute scarf got caught on your sister’s jeans,” referring to the cord-cover and my Mother, not my sister, and I touched his arm, laughed, and was about to explain when she slapped my hand and said, “Let’s go.” He looked like he was in his early twenties, about my age, and I wanted just to talk to him, not to kiss him like Mom says some girls do.
I need to get mad at her more often. The candy bar (Twix) melted a little while it was in my pocket all day, but it was still good. I lay in bed and waited for it to harden before I slipped it (the first stick) into my mouth. It (the chocolate) was really slippery on my tongue. I guess this is what she means by something that’s sweet? I’d felt that way when she’d eaten sweets before, but I never knew what tasting was like. I always felt more energy after she ate sweets, but after I ate one (the Twix), I was awake for hours. I was excited. I couldn’t stand listening to Mom breathe as she slept; I just wanted to wake her up so we could play cards.
She might know then that I ate something, and she’d stop me from doing it again.
Instead of waking her up, I finished up (I ate the other stick and the crumbs and licked all the chocolate smears) and hid the wrapper back under my breast. It wasn’t very comfortable, forming a pocket of sweat and plastic, but I still eventually fell asleep.
*
Morning begins the same way each day: I brush my teeth while she’s on the toilet, and then we switch. While brushing my teeth, I was terrified that she’d hear my right breast rustling back and forth or see the black stuff that I brushed out of my teeth (the chocolate) but she was paying no attention until I was done and we switched places and she looked at me.
“Are you sweating?” I was nervous and she must’ve seen it in my face.
I said, “No—am I?”
“Do you feel okay, dear?”
“I think I just need to go to the bathroom.” I felt my eyelids stretching wide and my eyeballs moving quickly, and I breathed heavier than normal, but I couldn’t control any of this.
She watched me while I pulled down my shorts and underwear and sat. I pretended to hold my stomach, not realizing how unlikely it’d be for someone who never ate anything to have a stomachache. Instead of suspicion, her eyes were full of concern. She trusted me, and that made it worse. I kept pretending and acting and looking up at those worried eyes and then I said, “I can’t go with you watching me.”
I couldn’t look at her eyes as I said it and she turned away. I felt my face go red. She brushed her teeth, while I pulled some toilet paper and quickly wadded it (the wrapper) inside. I clenched it in my fist until I was done, and then I wiped with it, dropped it in, and flushed. The water started melting the paper away as it swirled around and around but the funnel took it down.
*
There are heavy-duty scissors in the cabinet—next to the fridge. They’re sharp and strong and would cut easily—right through the cord. Then she’d have to let me eat. All I’d have to do is find a time when I had to go to the cabinet while she was busy doing something else, and hide them in the waist of my pants. They’d be a little uncomfortable until I found a better place to hide them—or I could cut the cord right there.
If I did that, I could date guys and would maybe kiss them after a while. I could go to a job—and be away from my Mom all day.
No more Mom all day.
I don’t think I could be that sneaky. I’m sure she’d catch me first.
*
She watched while I opened the cabinet and glanced at the scissors. I didn’t even mean it; I just wanted to make sure they were there.
“What are you looking for, hon?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I said, “Just thinking about some crafts.”
She immediately grinned. “Oh!” she said. She loves crafts. “What are you thinking about?”
“No—nevermind.” I’m a terrible liar, and would’ve frozen up if I even tried. I was glad that her drooping face immediately showed me that I’d disappointed her, but I couldn’t stand that she believed every word. I ate something! I wanted to say.
*
I reach for a Twix and hide it behind my hand. I crinkle its plastic a little so that she’ll look, but she’s busy loading groceries onto the conveyor belt. I wait until she watches me before I slip it into my pocket, but she trusts me too much. She doesn’t pay any attention.
The man who says “Security” behind me startles both of us, but I immediately grin. “You mind telling me what you’ve got in your front right pocket?” I pull the Twix out of my pocket and hand it to him, and am still grinning when I turn to my horrified mother. I immediately harden my face, because while the attempt to steal would have been just the disappointment I wanted, that grin will be hard to explain.
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That's the most amazing thing I ever read.
'If it isn't broken...mess with it 'till it is!'
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rOSES ARE rED
vIOLETS ARE bLUE
sOME vERSES RHYME
bUT THIS ONE DOESN'T EVEN sCAN!
'If it isn't broken...mess with it 'till it is!'
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Lonely As A Wandering Cloud
I Walked Along The Banks
Stepping On A Mans Behind
A Womans Voice Cried Out, Thanks.
Don't try to change others, change yourself :-))
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