I don't even have the will left to play hide & go seek with death anymore
I think i'll just wait here a while

Heating up into tight balls of rage that are afraid to break free.
Shaking hands, legs, feet.
When will this life of yours ever be complete?

Feeling incompetent emotions that swirl, glide, and run down your spine.
It's like ice sliding in your mind.
Will you ever make it in time?

Showing a smile and a wink to the confused faces that surround.
There's no one of understanding in this town.
Will you ever be found?

Fading into nothingness, the light becomes bright and shines again.
You're just waiting for your life to begin.
Think: Without Him, you'll never win.

Telling yourself that you're stronger, brighter than the rest.
This is just a difficult test.
Will you forever be mediocre, or will you be the best?

This week's new members:

xshimmersx, thedomboss, chibikelzafox, sekali, erikas_ed3, gabcd86, hermionehp5972, tigerkitykat, cuddleykatie, elyselacroix, rueni, lessthen60



Welcome to Creative Writer!

This is your official welcome mat, an introduction to the fun which is our

community and an entreaty for you to join in.



How does it work?

Creative Writer is an online version of a writers' group. While writing

itself is usually a solitary occupation, what all writers need is contact

with other people who can give feedback, answer questions and, as with all

professions, provide guidance and a learning environment. While all artists

create their work, they can't create in a vacuum.

A writers group provides that environment. Here you are able to post

excerpts from your work and receive feedback, here you can learn from other

writers, here you can contribute to others, here is a safe place to grow

your talent.

So welcome to Creative Writer! Jump in, have some fun, any questions, feel

free to ask at any time.



( A little history )



( Community calendar )



( Rules for this community )



( How to make an LJ-cut )



-o-o-o-

Have fun and here's to great writing!

Windcharmer & Ayoub

(your local Creative Writer facilitators)

I tried to tell them

I'm going through so much

It's like they're just brushing me off

You play it tough and that's never enough

Guess they don't understand what they don't know

God, please free my soul

I'm under everyone else's control but my own

my skin is as hard as a rock and a stone

Crying is not a sign of victory 

crying is my way to show my dignity

I'm just letting you know before you go

No one knows what they don't know 

I am the enormous man who eats & eats.
I am the boy who pushed himself down the stairs.
I am the girl who compromised her beliefs.
I am so funny I laugh at my own jokes.
I am my own best friend.
I am the young man who can’t say no.

I am your melted ice.
I am the one-woman show.
I am as powerful as Medusa.
I am the mortician & you look beautiful.
I am the cat with five lives left.
I am a deflated scarecrow.

It is the Fifth of November.
Consume: Bonfire toffee & parkin,
fireworks shot into the
midnight sky,
and we hear:
“A desperate disease requires
a dangerous remedy”
in the quiet, quiet, quiet.
I am Guy Fawkes! Let the canons fly.

Understand?
Pah, right.
Like you ever could.

Demons, love.
Demons.
Welcome.

Fight them for me?
With me??
Ha! Oh, you're a funny one.

As if you could understand.
Why do you want to know?
No.

Locked away.
Forever.
Do you really think I'm going to tell?

I can't even see them;
How can you?
You can't.

Don't get mad at me.
It's true.
There's no hope.

Just leave me.
Trust me, you don't want this.
Garbage.

Broken souls, love.
That's all I am.
Coagulation of broken souls.

So just stop.
Right there.
See the line?

Don't cross over.
Demons love, Demons.
Goodbye.

Maybe we need little reminders
that float down in potpourri glitter
of happiness
and fuzzy strand feathers
of comfort-

those moments of smiles
that wrap you up
like a piece of tin foil
ready to hold every weakness
in its sturdy shiny silver,
and those insignificant gestures
that cradle your skin
like a blanket of warmth
hovering over your soul
to capture away
the darkness holding on
with every scratch of dismay.

Inside a quilt of arms
like a book of words
behind a silent understanding-
there is need
to feel as if the world
has stopped on its angle
just for you
and the sun has broken
through bricks of clouds
to light up
your eyes once again,
before another day of rain
blackens and tarnishes
the parts we've learned
to only give away.
©-MM-11/6/09

winter night

i need another blanket tonight.
the furnace is turned off so my lover
can cool down in his study, he gets fevers
when he writes; i am under 2 blankets
ear pressed to the pillow,
blankets lipping my neck.  it is cold,
in this house where we live now,
the house my grandmother and grandfather built
the room where we sleep, their room,
added on when my mother was born.
after my grandfather died my grandmother
shut up the big room with the big bed,
went to sleep in the smaller room, alone.
my grandmother is dying now.  we
brought a blanket to her room, 154,
where she dozed, wrapped up in hospital
attire, in the divan they provided her;
we tucked the blanket around her, made
jokes about cocoons, and she fell asleep
again and again.
the temperature has dropped, tonight.
i am cold.  i know my grandmother is cold;
i hope they put her red robe round her
like we asked.  i pull the blanket to my
moustache-line, warmer but not
warmed.
the cold comes in, searching.