Masochist was breathtaking

All of your work is. You have a beautiful style. Thank you for sharing with us

__________________

__________________
Come join!

"You've died in my nightmares a million times..." Great line. Let me say that I relate to this one all too much, lol...a great shorter piece.

And thanks for the compliment on my avatar...I made it myself!

__________________
My Space My Stuff

Thank you, Saphira, Violette, GirlWithAMic, and FelicityS for your comments! "Masochist" was a piece I wrote off the top of my head one night, without thinking much, just trying to get some thoughts out and on the page. Thanks for the feedback!

__________________
But I know the difference between myself and my reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder which of us do you love?

Rivulets

I hurt you tonight without meaning to,
swallowed you up in my lies and deceit,
words I'd long forgotten,
so distracted, I let myself slip,
let you destroy my fantasy world,
allowing you to make my shame complete.

When you left, I shook and cowered.
Would you ever come back?
Could you ever trust me again?
What had I destroyed?
Could I rebuild,
or was it all too late?

Distracted by my own insecurity,
I sliced my finger open without meaning to.
The blood coursed to the surface,
red against my pale skin,
a silent rivulet, flower down my palm,
blotted, only to surge up again.
It wouldn't stop.

Now I sit,
the pain in my hand overwhelming the pain in my heart
at lying to you.
I ignored my own feelings for so long,
I didn't watch where I was going.
I love you, but I need to love myself, too.
I need to keep my eyes on the path.
I must remember to guard my heart.
Nobody else will.
Not even you.

__________________
But I know the difference between myself and my reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder which of us do you love?

I liked this in that it was very forthright and honest. There was no skirting around what you were trying to say, you just came right out and said it, and it worked for this piece. You ended with a good message, leaving some hope at the end. Nice job!

Your last two pieces are my favorite. I cant wait to read some more.

__________________
Clue to the invasion of the buttocks. All the victims in the picture sound and look similar to ET the extraterrestrial. Can you spot John Regan The abductor. Why is that frisbee on that dudes head. Its like a green throw in frisbee. On his head. My Stuff Set the image of the school to Neon 9/11

Thanks, GirlWithAMic and Shawn8888!

I wrote this one today, trying to decide if I want to submit it for the Writer's Group or not.

The Open Door

Wandering through the mist,
the smell of wet leaves on the scalded pavement
in her nose,
she walks slowly through the fading memories.

He's gone.
Bed empty in the early morning light,
no note, no word, not even goodbye
left to pacify her.
He didn't wake her in the night
to tell her where he went.
He didn't say when he'd return.
He's simply gone forever.

She rails against the truth,
this final injustice,
screaming to the darkness
with only silence in reply.
Battering the walls with bleeding fists,
her body sore, she keeps her angry vigil,
disbelieving this could happen,
the utter finality of abandonment.
The leaves fall, faster, thicker,
blanketing her in wet, sopping lies,
and the screams cut off
as she awakens again.

The mist rising through the trees -
early morning fog lifts.
She darts down the hall,
pushing her hand to the half-open door.

He sleeps just inside,
oblivious, unconscious,
open mouth like a bottomless well,
lashes long and fluttered,
delicate as butterfly wings.
Heart pounding, she waits to see
the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest,
before she can breathe again.

The endless nightmare,
the final abandonment,
will she ever feel secure again?
Only when she sees
the morning sun dapple his familiar face,
and know she's not alone,
can she turn and close
the open door.

__________________
But I know the difference between myself and my reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder which of us do you love?

wow you paint amazing illustrations with your words!

He sleeps just inside,
oblivious, unconscious,
open mouth like a bottomless well,
lashes long and fluttered,
delicate as butterfly wings.

Just beautiful!

__________________
My Space My Stuff