I start and end my days with you.
Waking up to words,
Simple letters,
Strung together,
Sweet good mornings,
Encouragements for a redundant day to be less redundant, "have a great day."
I wouldn't have it any other way.
The goodnights,
Eyes drift closed,
Slip away,
Hear a ding,
Hand fumbles in the dark,
Grasping for the text on blaring white,
Smile inducing,
One eye closed,
That goodnight erases the whole day of "I can't. I won't. I worry."
"Sleep tight" read softly,
And I do,
Because,
I start and end my days with you.
Kill Me, I'm a Romantic by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Kill Me, I'm a Romantic
Who would have guessed,
That the feel of your hand in mine,
The warmth from your palm,
Spreading to your fingertips,
Warmth of your body,
Heart beating,
Blood rushing,
Could feel so crazy good?
Who would have guessed,
That I,
A person so wrapped in learnt solitude,
So understanding of who I am,
Could ever feel this way,
About another human being,
Just as aware of me…as me?
I say “this way,”
Because no amount of pretty words,
Personified in pretty sonnets,
Could ever begin to skim the surface,
Of the incredibly deep,
Incredibly mysterious way,
Your arms wrapped me tightly,
Could make me feel so much of s
Am I Really Writing About You Again? by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Am I Really Writing About You Again?
God, what’s wrong with me?
No, don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical.
I know what’s wrong with me,
And I am terrified that you know too.
I don’t want to you to know.
I’m so scared of being that person,
That person that spills every feeling, every emotion
Onto the ground like warm vomit that everyone recoils from,
Everyone hates.
No one likes vomit,
Especially the kind that makes you realize the person,
Projectile spewing in front of you is doing it,
Because the way you make them feel is just too much
To take without saying something.
I know this makes me look insane.
I know this scares people,
This Poem is Predictable by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
This Poem is Predictable
Loving you is crazy.
Wait, wait, that’s pretty cheesy,
Pretty predictable.
And while we’re at it,
The use of that word “love,”
I mean, whoa, right?
But fuck, I don’t know how else to say it.
I don’t know what else this could be,
Because I want to spend every waking moment
Wrapped in your arms,
Wrapped in your smell,
Your lips,
Your heaving breaths as your tongue touches mine,
As I’m on my tip toes,
In attempts to get my arms around your shoulders,
The most they possibly can.
Damn, the way you look at me and smile,
Our lips only a few inches apart,
And tell me my eyes are beautiful,
Just Because, Sweetheart by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Just Because, Sweetheart
You look me in the eyes with a very small distance between us,
There is a half-smile on your face,
The corner of your mouth turned up just a bit on the right side,
And you say to me “I’m not happy.”
I can see the way you hold the look,
As if you are expecting me to be surprised,
And you are waiting for me to tell you that I can’t love someone who isn’t happy.
But sweetheart let me tell you something,
You are more than your sadness,
More than your heartache,
More than your fear and feelings of incompetence,
More than all of those things that make you feel unworthy.
Darling, you matter.
So I say to you
I’m choking.
My stomach feels heavy and my lungs have a fist around them,
Squeezing until taking a breath makes me nauseous with effort.
I’m thinking of you again.
I’m always thinking of you.
How can another human being,
With their words, skin, scent, thoughts, blood, and bones,
Make me feel this way?
You have no idea the hours I’ve spent,
Wondering what it would feel like when that contact of your lips on mine
Closes into an unmistakable brush of warmth and I can no longer breathe.
You,
With your hands and heart,
You’re gorgeous brown eyes.
You with your words that unintentionally speak volumes of whispers,
Int
Here are some truths,
One, I am a woman.
I have breast.
I have vulva, labia, and a vagina.
Here is some more truth,
Two, I feel like a woman.
Would you like more truth?
Here is more,
Three, I lied just then because when I said I felt like a woman,
I left out the part where I said, “I don’t always feel that way.”
Gender is a tough word for me because it’s like a box.
I want to fit neatly,
Everyone wants me to fit neatly.
Have some more truth,
Four, I don’t fit that box.
Sometimes I love the way I feel in a dress.
I feel sexy and confidant and womanly.
But the whole truth?
Five, it’s never e
I start and end my days with you.
Waking up to words,
Simple letters,
Strung together,
Sweet good mornings,
Encouragements for a redundant day to be less redundant, "have a great day."
I wouldn't have it any other way.
The goodnights,
Eyes drift closed,
Slip away,
Hear a ding,
Hand fumbles in the dark,
Grasping for the text on blaring white,
Smile inducing,
One eye closed,
That goodnight erases the whole day of "I can't. I won't. I worry."
"Sleep tight" read softly,
And I do,
Because,
I start and end my days with you.
Kill Me, I'm a Romantic by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Kill Me, I'm a Romantic
Who would have guessed,
That the feel of your hand in mine,
The warmth from your palm,
Spreading to your fingertips,
Warmth of your body,
Heart beating,
Blood rushing,
Could feel so crazy good?
Who would have guessed,
That I,
A person so wrapped in learnt solitude,
So understanding of who I am,
Could ever feel this way,
About another human being,
Just as aware of me…as me?
I say “this way,”
Because no amount of pretty words,
Personified in pretty sonnets,
Could ever begin to skim the surface,
Of the incredibly deep,
Incredibly mysterious way,
Your arms wrapped me tightly,
Could make me feel so much of s
Am I Really Writing About You Again? by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Am I Really Writing About You Again?
God, what’s wrong with me?
No, don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical.
I know what’s wrong with me,
And I am terrified that you know too.
I don’t want to you to know.
I’m so scared of being that person,
That person that spills every feeling, every emotion
Onto the ground like warm vomit that everyone recoils from,
Everyone hates.
No one likes vomit,
Especially the kind that makes you realize the person,
Projectile spewing in front of you is doing it,
Because the way you make them feel is just too much
To take without saying something.
I know this makes me look insane.
I know this scares people,
This Poem is Predictable by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
This Poem is Predictable
Loving you is crazy.
Wait, wait, that’s pretty cheesy,
Pretty predictable.
And while we’re at it,
The use of that word “love,”
I mean, whoa, right?
But fuck, I don’t know how else to say it.
I don’t know what else this could be,
Because I want to spend every waking moment
Wrapped in your arms,
Wrapped in your smell,
Your lips,
Your heaving breaths as your tongue touches mine,
As I’m on my tip toes,
In attempts to get my arms around your shoulders,
The most they possibly can.
Damn, the way you look at me and smile,
Our lips only a few inches apart,
And tell me my eyes are beautiful,
Just Because, Sweetheart by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Just Because, Sweetheart
You look me in the eyes with a very small distance between us,
There is a half-smile on your face,
The corner of your mouth turned up just a bit on the right side,
And you say to me “I’m not happy.”
I can see the way you hold the look,
As if you are expecting me to be surprised,
And you are waiting for me to tell you that I can’t love someone who isn’t happy.
But sweetheart let me tell you something,
You are more than your sadness,
More than your heartache,
More than your fear and feelings of incompetence,
More than all of those things that make you feel unworthy.
Darling, you matter.
So I say to you
Here are some truths,
One, I am a woman.
I have breast.
I have vulva, labia, and a vagina.
Here is some more truth,
Two, I feel like a woman.
Would you like more truth?
Here is more,
Three, I lied just then because when I said I felt like a woman,
I left out the part where I said, “I don’t always feel that way.”
Gender is a tough word for me because it’s like a box.
I want to fit neatly,
Everyone wants me to fit neatly.
Have some more truth,
Four, I don’t fit that box.
Sometimes I love the way I feel in a dress.
I feel sexy and confidant and womanly.
But the whole truth?
Five, it’s never e
I’m choking.
My stomach feels heavy and my lungs have a fist around them,
Squeezing until taking a breath makes me nauseous with effort.
I’m thinking of you again.
I’m always thinking of you.
How can another human being,
With their words, skin, scent, thoughts, blood, and bones,
Make me feel this way?
You have no idea the hours I’ve spent,
Wondering what it would feel like when that contact of your lips on mine
Closes into an unmistakable brush of warmth and I can no longer breathe.
You,
With your hands and heart,
You’re gorgeous brown eyes.
You with your words that unintentionally speak volumes of whispers,
Int
Brody didn’t really understand what he was hearing until he turned the corner, but by the time he had reached the top of the stairs he knew exactly what was going on. He could even put a name to the voice he’d heard a moment ago.
“Rich!” Brody yelled, angry.
Rich froze, he had already knocked the books from Peter’s hands but Brody had stopped him before he could kick them down the hall. Rich turned to face Brody, not at all ashamed but smart enough to see he was on the losing side of this argument.
Peter took advantage of the distraction and scrambled to his feet, backing away from Rich to collect the scatter
Kitty, Kitty, Slave Epilogue by raining-darkness, literature
Literature
Kitty, Kitty, Slave Epilogue
Look how little she is Cohen whispered, ghosting a trembling hand over the silky smooth cheek of a newborn. One of his newborns.
Yeah, they both are. Reen whispered back, though not as breathlessly. Steadily, he moved closer, holding the little bundle closer to his kitty, allowing him to touch her freely. He was still too weak to hold one himself, now being the first time hed even been able to see them at all, even though its been two full days. The pain and blood loss had nearly taken him away forever. The doctor had said that Cohen had developed a rare condition in which the baby in the womb would
Frozen pt. 1 - YAOI by ArmageddonChild, literature
Literature
Frozen pt. 1 - YAOI
Part One - The Journal
The snow fell lightly against the glass, chilling the pane and causing spider-webs of frost to crackle along the edges. The cool December breeze flowed freely through the open window, tiny flakes of snow skittering across the wood floor of the only bedroom on the second floor of the house. Soft gray clouds rolled overhead, tossed by the light wind until they were broken apart into fine wisps. Winter was never a harsh time in this area of Europe. Always peaceful always soft.
Suppressing a shiver, Kale got up from his bed where he was reading his English assignment and crossed the floor to shut the window. The cold
I’m choking.
My stomach feels heavy and my lungs have a fist around them,
Squeezing until taking a breath makes me nauseous with effort.
I’m thinking of you again.
I’m always thinking of you.
How can another human being,
With their words, skin, scent, thoughts, blood, and bones,
Make me feel this way?
You have no idea the hours I’ve spent,
Wondering what it would feel like when that contact of your lips on mine
Closes into an unmistakable brush of warmth and I can no longer breathe.
You,
With your hands and heart,
You’re gorgeous brown eyes.
You with your words that unintentionally speak volumes of whispers,
Int
Cigarettes + Pepsi Prologue by whoistoknow, literature
Literature
Cigarettes + Pepsi Prologue
Prologue:
I hate my school. I was blessed enough to be the lucky one whose father is a rich neglectful asshole who makes it up to me for not being there. Well he doesn't constantly make it up to me but he did name a school after me. Benjamin High.
My name is cliché Benjamin but everyone calls me Angel. My mother was the hippy type. She was one of those people that don't name their children, they let the spirits do it for them and what the spirits came up with was Angel. My father had told her that she would name me Angel over his dead body. With enough persistence though, he compromised on Benjamin Angel. My mother left us when I was
My name is Amanda and I like to call myself a writer. I'm really interested in human sexuality and most of my characters and stories involve sexually atypical themes. I enjoy exploring relationships within my writing and because of this, most of my stories share this theme as well.
Feel free to read and enjoy. Let me know what you think, I'm always open to criticism and suggestions to grow as a writer. :)
Current Residence: STL Favourite genre of music: Various MP3 player of choice: iPhone Favourite cartoon character: Gene and Bob from Bob's Burgers Personal Quote: Everything we humans do is a comparison to something else. Stop comparing. Start living.
Favourite Movies
Boonkdock Saints, Four Brothers, Brokeback Mountin, Shelter, etc.
Favourite TV Shows
Family Guy, New Girl, Desperate Housewives, Grey's Anatomy, Friends
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Twenty One Pilots |-/
Favourite Books
Zero at the Bone, The Walking Dead Comics, Chew (Comic)
Favourite Writers
Poppy Z Brite, Richard Laymon
Favourite Games
Crash Bandicoot 2, Heavy Rain, Sims 3, Beyond: Two Souls
Favourite Gaming Platform
PS3, Computer
Tools of the Trade
Keyboard, Computer
Other Interests
Music, Writing, Reading, Fun Facts, Useless Trivia, Baking