He does this terrifying thing, where he takes his heart, his bleeding heart--god, he bleeds and bruises of the smallest things, and you'll think it's sweet at first but it's really just messy, and he'll cut it apart with big scary scissors, into little strips, fibers so small the naked eye can barely make them out. And it's not some intervention, ( Read more... )

I need to go home. I need to go home, and let the world spill out of me, one not-home at a time, until I rest easy in my bunk bed again, and the words won't keep me up at night. I need to go home, I need to get home, and I need to be home, before I can take it with me. Because I'm never home. And I have to stop looking and start putting down roots.

"If you're reading this, then you've come to a decision. A decision which many have considered, most will crave at one point in their life, and all but a few will ever go through it. Here are the steps that will ensure your success ( Read more... )

He'll get that little smile on his face, and his eyes will come together just a little, and you'll know if it was anyone else in the world they'd be crying their lungs out right now. He'll be sitting, or standing, but his head will be resting against something because it'll be too heavy to hold up and his eyes may as well be boring a hole into ( Read more... )

"All these things, they will happen. And when they do, they will hurt you." His eyes were slow, careful, unwavering as he led me from the room. "But you would sooner bear the pain alone, than let another share you anguish." He looked away, something like a smile on his lips. "For you believe letting another feel your hurt, is merely a second path ( Read more... )

The boy is no longer young, but he still dangles from the cliff. His fingers have grown strong, grown frantic, grown brittle; their hold is not what it was, and he has learned to be at once more yielding and less capable of letting go. They remind him, lancing aches from once-forgotten scars. Some are white, fresh, others faded, but all of them he ( Read more... )

"I can't resist you," he said, putting the meaning in wide, worried eyes. "It's not in me. I spent all my time, trying to hush my heart with my mind, but it's like telling yourself you're riding a horse, instead of pulling at some strings and praying it doesn't kick you off." He turns, eyes wayward, unable to bring himself to stare. "I'll think I ( Read more... )

The rules of engagement are simple, traitorous, unforgiving. Irresistible. Mean everything, say nothing. Dance anywhere, go nowhere. Smile, jest, twirl away. Grace, madness, frivolity. Endless explanation, pure disorientation.

It's fun that way.

His eyes are never where he's going, or what he's holding; it's a wonder he doesn't run into every second pole or passers by as he methodically places one foot before the other. No, it's always the corner of his eyes. Life is just the corner of his eyes, because he's still looking. Looking, for something to look forward to.

Well. this sums my thoughts up pretty succinctly:

I'll start--
This is a group effort, after all
It's not like you and I alone
Decided we should take the fall.

My name, of course, is Gracious;
My job is not to please
However, you and I, my friend
It seems, are on our knees.

So where is this? A church, perhaps?
Alcoholics' 101?
Oh, but ( Read more... )