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Holy Ghost: Chapter 2Lovino scrambled out of the bed, but fell to the floor with a smash.
"Ugh...hurts so bad...but so lazy...to get up..."
He crawled on the floor trying to find his way with his eyes shut from the brightness of the morning sun. 'How does Maria deal with this every morning?' he thought. He finally reached what he thought was a door handle and turned it. To his surprise and dissatisfaction, what he thought was the exit door was really the laundry closet. All sorts of assortments of clothing fell on the sleepy Italian. He try to crawl away, but the weight of dresses and parasols were far too much. He laid there with a pile of clothes on his back.
"Well, at least it's the nice laundry smell..."
He started to doze off once more, letting the warm clothes overcome all of his senses,
Maria's little feet pattered against the hard wood. In her small voice, she mumbled, "They'll never find me here!"
She ran down the hall into her large room. The large balcony window was open, and the sun was se
Holy Ghost: Chapter 1Maria had awoken from her deep slumber.
"Aye, today seems like a wonderful day, I must seize it! Hehe, sounds like something Grandpa would say..."
She stirred, but oddly enough, bumped into something. Under her covers was her older brother, Feliciano Vargas, dozing off. She smiled, kissed her brothers drool-drenched cheek, and went on the other side of the bed. To her surprise, she found yet another body! This time it was her other, more serious brother Lovino, deep in sleep.
"Even when he sleeps, he seems so pensive!"
She quietly went over her brothers and tiptoed out the door.
"Pleasant dreams, my brothers."
She closed the grand doors, leaving her brothers to dream.
Maria Constantina Vargas. That's what it said on the card the Vargas twins received so many years ago. It was like a present from God. Well, it WAS a present from God, as addressed in the gold-ordained letter. "Take good care of her. Love, God." It was strange. The brothers were devout Catholics, but this, they could
Running through my veins,
Like marathons, it rolls
Down my spine
Up again along that line
Heading towards the crook of my neck
I got to make sure
That I'm all set and checked
Like the bomb I am.
Because this heart
Is just too big
And this soul
Is too large
For this small,
Body to take.
Take them down
Take them all down
Because this world spins too fast
And I can't make it last.
It's too loud for you guys to take
The ringing in your ear might make it break.
It's just fascinating!
Thousands of pieces fly
Making their places in the earth, wind, waters, and sky.
My words are that powerful
I will reach you with my lines
I don't need any other sign
Before I blaze
Ten years old
Nine years to come
Eight years gone
Seven years lost
Six years remembered
Five years forget
Four years gone
Three years my return.
Two years done.
There is always one more year to go.
There Was A GirlThere was a girl, maybe 3 or 4 years old
And she didn't understand how real this world was.
This girl lived life happily, until one day.
One day, her daddy left her
And her sister.
And her mommy.
She watched him turn his back.
And all she heard from him was
"I give up. I can't handle you crazies anymore."
Her mommy cried.
Her family cried.
Heck, that little girl cried too.
But not because he left, no.
Because she thought it was her fault.
She thought she hurt everybody.
Was it because she didn't like her daddy?
Is that why everyone was sad?
She lived life like that for awhile.
Thinking she caused pain for others.
She was quiet, scared to talk, scared to stand up for herself.
Her daddy always told her that she was better off with him in her life.
Always telling her that her mother
Who worked from 9 to 5 and came home to cook the dinner
Wasn't doing a good job.
She hated herself as a mother.
She thought she wasn't a good daughter.
A good sister.
A good friend.
Then, she realized
Silly NotionsAt times, I don't much understand.
The world is so very fast
How is it possible to keep track.
Then again, you come to me
And find the guts to say
You don't very much like me.
I don't very much care
It's funny how
You think I might care
I do care, to some extent,
About you, that is.
Why come up with such a notion?
Don't I try to be nice and considerate?
So what if I'm different, isn't everybody?
Do I need an excuse to voice my views?
This is who I am, I'm already made, no need for extra clay.
I have no need for your silly notions.
What? Please, don't roll those eyes.
Because those who do that,
Just can't face the harsh reality
That silly notions, such as yours
Will never receive good criticism in our very changing world.
Good-bye. Have a nice day.
And please, make sure
To wipe that disgust off your face.
Like Any...Normal Day?Arthur was making his way through the International School of Worlds. He had a pile of history books that Veronique had forgotten to return to the library.
"Oh dear...it's another one of THOSE days..." Arthur grumbled to himself, not paying attention to where he was walking to. He knew the halls of the school like the back of his hand, usually dodging the other walking nations. However, this time, he crashed into someone out of uniform.
Rubbing his head, he asked in a fury
"Excuse ME, but watch where YOU are going...Why aren't you in uniform? Do you know I am school president? I can get you detention.
The young girl bowed furiously in the middle of her apologies. Her voice was sweet and high, almost like another person he knew. She had long, raven black hair, untied, that ended right at the base of her back. Her clothes were...not very much in style, but not very raggedy either. Her large brown eyes contrasted strangely with her tan skin.
"I'm so sorry. I am a cousin to many countries
Sunburnt Tomatoes: Chapter 3It was raining.
She hated the rain.
"Why does it have to rain today out of all days?"
Maria looked out her large window to the garden. The roses weren't shining as they usually were when the sun shined. She left her room, her dress dragging at the tail, for breakfast. She rushed to the kitchen, but she bumped into someone as she made her way.
"Oops sorry-ah, I am terribly sorry, your holiness..."
She bumped into the current Pope at the time, Pope Clement VII. He was a stoic man, his face pointy looking. His long beard was ragged and tangled and gray, and his nose looked as if it was going to point an eye out. He was a Medici, the most powerful family in all of Italy, centralized in Florence.
"Maria, watch where you are going next time. Next time, instead of your eyes wandering the Vatican, let it wander through a Holy Scripture."
He walked away. his red, white, and gold robe gliding along the carpet. She wondered about that man. He always seem to be scheming something.
A Little HopeIt flickered my way.
Like a little piece of hope.
How are you?
Will you help me?
It flickered a yes.
And I followed it.
Out of the dark labyrinth that 'was' my mind.
I was so young.
Looking that far back.
I wonder what that light was really doing there.
Was it there to save another lost soul?
I was lost.
But was I lost enough?
It makes me laugh now.
The thought, I mean.
Hope made its way down the long, dark corridors.
Cobwebs for drapery.
All of this.
Hope floated along.
It ignored all of this.
As it passed
Cobwebs became silver.
Dust was swept away
So windows can be seen.
Look, said the small hope I had left.
I looked and was surprised
At what a world 'could' be like.
I looked at my hope and faith
Gathered in that little ball of light
With tears in my eyes.
Can this really be?
Can such a world really exist?
It flickered a thoughtful yes.
And like the young girl I was
I popped open the window
I can tell you, it was
IdeasIt crawls up my spine.
Through every vertebrae I can feel it.
One, two, three, it went through.
This thing that crawls up my spine.
Right where my neck is.
It sits there.
Making the little hairs stand on end.
Does it really have this much control.
It continues through the back of my neck.
It drills into my skull.
Making one small hole.
Big enough that it can fit itself through.
These monosyllables, these words
Cannot express it.
It courses through my brain.
Swimming through all my thoughts.
Until It lodges itself somewhere
In the soft tissues of my mind.
This wonderful thing we call an idea.
One, two, three more come.
Up my spine,
Through every vertebrae,
Resting at my neck,
Making the small hairs stand,
One, two, three more,
Drill holes my skull,
Courses through my brain,
Swimming in my thoughts,
And they all take their place,
In the vast web that is my mind.
Taking a corner there, and a corner here,
And they work.
These 'its,' these ideas
Raspberry sunsetRaspberry sunset, pray tell me
Where you keep your ruby jewels
That paint my skies the way you do;
My love is fixated on your methods
The way you dash the stars
Just right in the night air
Raspberry sunset, pray tell me
How you soothe the summer time
When the scorched earth is barely alive
And its inhabitants are parched
Working for water, only to feel it
Seep right through their skin once more
Raspberry sunset, pray tell me
What your sorcery fires up
When it brings the evening sun
Coursing through the skyline
Pulsing and wanting, like nothing else
Raspberry sunset, pray tell me
Where I will find my love once more;
Under the peach trees of harvest
Rolling through the rivers, cold
Laughing through the apple's orchards
Strolling between the vineyards?
Raspberry sun, pray tell me
Will you be my everlasting light?
The English and The IrishMy English rose, roots so deep
Dug into your home,
Reaching out for the sunlight,
Growing every day, even against the elements
Shamrock at your tips -
Grazing your stalk, in that gentle wind
A smattering of green against
That ever royal, velvet red
Clearwater FarewellAwaiting flight
with a storm
to see us off.
time well spent
with loved ones
usually far away.
Hugs and kisses
wonderful well wishes.
of white sand
such clear blue.
I will miss.
safe and sound.
Finally to be home
in my own room
and my own bed.
in the future.
One day to return
to this shore
gladly thought of.
I miss youIf I were to leave you,
You'd soon realise that,
No matter how long,
I'll be back just like that,
You know I won't leave you,
I'll always come back,
Whether during the day,
Or night time's black,
There are times,
where I bid farewell for a while,
So I promise you that,
I'll return with a smile,
A smile that we,
Us two, can share,
As a gift from me,
After being stuck over there,
A place which lacks
a person who,
I need and love,
that place lacks you,
And while I'm away,
I'll yell your name here,
Waiting for a response,
to echo in my ear.
I miss you...
Maybe I don't deserve itI can't make you love me like I want you to.
I can't make you feel butterflies in your stomach like you once did.
I'll never be able to tame your wild heart.
I'll never be able to make up for my mistakes.
I won't be able to mend the brokenness you have.
I won't be able to kiss your scars and make you smile.
But I did.
There was a time
When we were younger
When I was the light
The one who saved you
Maybe that has changed now.
Maybe I made you this way.
It was my fault to begin with.
I made a mistake
And then drove you away.
And how I wish I could go back
And somehow say the things I should've
But seeing you this way
It's killing me
And I want so badly to help
But I'm still fumbling with the broken glass heart of mine on the ground
If I stop to fix yours
Who fixes mine?
I wish you could comprehend just how much I love you.
Love isn't even capable of conveying how much I care.
Even with broken pieces lying in the rain and mud.
I wonder what it would be like to love you
Inspiration BeachThe sand
beneath my feet.
A warm breeze
A peaceful morning
without a care.
looking forward to striding
through the soft
caress of the waves.
Blue skies and
The call of a bird
from a tree.
How peaceful it is
in the sun and sand.
my imagination soar.
Storm-Struck InspirationLightning strikes
Across the sky
As thunder rumbles
Up on high
From storm clouds
It rains down
And with a sound
I begin to write
Stories spun silk in my head
Impossible to sleep in bed
Bright and blinding
Creatures run through my mind
Oh what's worth writing..
Traits. Of Humanity.We must use them. And we will call it principled.
I would like to call this piece
"If android could speak".
I will do this (on the side) as I go through the process of beginning (together) and experience beginnings.
I don't ever want to do "A thing", I wish to do things.
Wordy, thoughtful, and the way caring.
And so I will end by saying there is no current better way to say it.
I must end it with "I love you", may you continue to end, and begin to go onward to understanding.
Ever faithful, ever holding something.
Onward, toward a beginning, there is new, and is it not the wish that you see it?
Financial Issues of Having a BoyfriendWhen I first met you
You were the new kid.
We shared numbers
And that was my first mistake.
We stayed up late into the night
And early into the morning
Talking miles per minute
and texting way faster than should be possible.
The minutes of those conversation were priced.
Soon coins that were pocket change
Became dollars out of my father’s paycheck.
The texts you sent me also had a price.
That made the dollars burn,
My conscience turn,
And the yelling stern.
We then shared ways of talking elsewhere.
But being in different parts of the school
Proved to have me never see you
Never share any classes or lunches with you.
To make it worse,
Our words were priced.
The digital data sent had a price,
And the times got later.
We all know you can’t bring a desktop computer into bed.
So I sat up talking to you
And when the time got late enough
The yelling got sterner.
We then shared gaming accounts.
The accounts were free
But the games cost money.
I had my grandmother buy some games
These HandsThese hands,
Worn out from the long years of before.
I find it
Harder to breathe sometimes, I suppose.
But today, for some reason,
I lay here
In my old, musty bed,
Gasping for whatever air I can find.
That was once fresh and young
Is on the verge of total insanity
And slowly, just slowly
Taking away what I thought I loved.
Made these hands
These hands, now thin with age
Has made scratches throughout the decades.
With these hands
I have hurt
The ones I should've loved.
And with these hands
I pray with.
The same hands that I hurt with, I pray.
Please, take my already resting soul.
It is prepared to go.
I am sorry for all the hurt I have caused.
These hands then clench my chest.
My last bit of air, I suppose.
These bloodshot eyes
Slowly come to a close.
These hands then free themselves from their
I can finally rest
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