Mirakee
Cozy Sheep
When you're too lazy to get out of your warm bed:
Eh. I'll just eat tomorrow.
©magicalmystery
magicalmystery
I am the inkless pen which writes down all the unspoken desires we hate to love so much. Gen: Freak, 90s Edition. DID
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Hi, Chocolate
Me:
Currently shoveling chocolate icing into my mouth with a spoon, and I'm wondering if I'm pregnant or if I'm just still high.
And I'm thinking,
'I hope our baby has blue eyes.'
©magicalmystery -
You, Not Me
You sent it:
"I don't trust you."
Reading it made me smile,
Since it was only a text;
I purposely missed your call.
So now I'm going to bed.
©magicalmystery -
Out of Love
I never lied about being in love with you;
I just have stepped out of love for the time being,
And I don't see your hand reaching to pull me back in;
I see you weighing your options.
So don't act surprised when you catch me weighing mine;
My actions are your darkest reflections.
©magicalmystery -
Nothing
I feel nothing again.
Or maybe I realize reality:
That maybe he isn't the one,
And I am already severing the emotional
Cord I've attached to his heart,
So that when he decides to break up,
I will already feel nothing for him,
And will therefore take it a lot easier than him--
Saying our forever goodbye.
©magicalmystery -
To All, But To Us
It is possible, my love, my love,
He said to his Little Girl, goodnight, sleep tight;
But audei twas not her hearts desire;
As he turned his head, lust transpired:
A mouth to skin, teeth to bone;
The man she loves leaves marks in places unknown.
His mark on her flesh will make this claim
(So that all who see it step away):
I belong to and serve my master;
I am the thing between his sheets;
He is my Dominant and my darling;
It is for him I wear this chain.
Passerbys will gawk and shriek,
To see these lovers undefined;
Animals, monsters, demons, whores;
No one could make up their minds anymore.
But I know the truth of who they are;
They are the wolf and the chainsaw,
Masochistically in love.
©magicalmystery -
Safeword
"Is this what you want? Is this what you like? You like pain?"
"Yes, Daddy! Yes yes yes, oh yes!"
"This is what you asked for; you want me to hurt you?"
"Yes, yes, yes, Daddy!"
"You like this, you little slut?"
"Ouch! Ow! D-daddy--"
"What!? What? Say it."
"It h-hurts-- hurts Daddy! It hurts too much."
"You know the safeword?"
"...yes, Daddy."
"Do you want to use it?"
"No, sir."
"Good girl."
©magicalmystery -
Truman Show
Sometimes I think I'm on The Truman Show: that everyone is watching me, everyone is fake and doesn't actually care; that this boyfriend I have is just my test to show to the world I'm normal, so that I can pass the test and life can finally start and they'll all leave us alone.
Sometimes I think he knows the truth, but he loves me anyway; that he knows it's all a show. One big magic show. And I'm his right hand assistant; the world, our stage; the people, metaphorical puppets on strings.
Sometimes when I see the shapes and people and scarecrows I see in the corner of my eyes shift into the thing they actually are, I wonder if that was the previous template idea for my room, or that maybe a previous Me had trialed that version of alternate choices and failed, so that now I am here in what had been the other Me's Now, looking at a white desk of drawers in a closet, and not the sagging scarecrow in green overalls slumped against the wall on his stilt. My perception of the world changes if I suddenly find whatever it was I was looking towards change into something else entirely. My mood for the day changes. My thoughts go another direction. But what about the Me who died before me, when they saw something for what it had been?
©magicalmystery -
Romantic
I don't love you;
I need you.
Isn't that more romantic?
To not go to you based on feelings of a metaphorical heart,
But instead run to you because I know we are both stronger together than apart?
A broken heart can only feel so much;
I chose to care about you because of the greatness you fail to see in yourself.
©magicalmystery -
Lovers
Let us be like stubborn lovers
And set aside the hassle of love;
The world can say what they want of us,
Because I will only listen to you;
I see you as my leader;
You see me as yours, too.
So let us start a newage revolution
And, hand-in-hand, rise above.
For when the time comes for fire,
I will need you with me to keep me sane.
©magicalmystery
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A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.
The man who never reads live only one. -
redpaint
2d
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angellover
1w
Clumsy
Not so Graceful, after all.
Physically a traumatic brain injury
Confiscated it all.
Add addiction to that cocktail
And I'm destined for another fall.
Mentally we have a smoothie of issues.
Bipolar Depression, Anxiety and PTSD.
Not sure that I'll ever discover
This strong woman that is me.
Father and a brother schizophrenic,
Other brother, a girl beating drunk maniac.
Cousin in prison, a life ticket.
He broke into a college girls apartment and
Almost killed her with a rape.
The culprit he claims were the drugs he chose To take.
Oh yeah, both parents are alcoholic addicts
And I've just realized the shitty hand
I was dealt.
However I have an amazing 12 year old son
Who's been raised by his father because
I wasn't deemed fit.
He is my pride and joy and I try to not let him forget it.
My other son just turned 1 year old.
He is the light in my eyes and the beat of my heart.
I just want to give him a winning life start.
Life's been a battle since birth and I'm now
Almost 40.
These past few days, I've felt myself mature
And toss the naughty in the can.
Maybe I am fucked up
The chances are awfully high.
But I'm sick and tired
Of playing victim
In order to just get by.
I'm done blaming, dumping guilt and pointing Fingers at whomever is in the way.
Ready to own up to my own stuff
And grow up, despite it.
Although I'm sure it's much easier to say,
Than to practice and put into play.
I refuse to fail my children.
I refuse to fail my man.
I refuse to fail myself.
Something new is going on inside my soul
And I refuse to push it away.
©angellover -
nyx___malfoy
1w
Read MoreMy teacher said "Read, read, read. And one day, I'll be the happiest to see you write"
I wonder if she'll be happy if she reads my words now.
~
Wrote something that comes under my "get out of my system, you annoying little piece of shit" category. Treat this as a filler since I'm not too thrilled about this. Like I said, I had to get this out before I ate the papers (kidding) (or am I?) (Sorry, that was an old joke)I see words.
Words which can be mine. And words that can never be mine.
I'm trying to write about the inability to write.
It was a story inside a story.
What was it called again?
My English teacher had a name for it. She tried so hard to make us remember all of them.
Those terms.
Those words.
Those name and years and places. Some in-between bedsheets, some in the middle of English balls, between fresh debutants and ogling fine men. Some even in war, between the nurses who had to do so much more than just heal.
There was just so much words.
A psychedelic morning, coffee and a mandatory curse from my grandmother later I remembered the word. A frame story. A play within a play.
But I lied. I googled it and my grandmother never stops with one curse.
Breathe. Take deep breaths.
I see words.
Words that could have killed my neighbour, whose dog never stopped barking after.
They said she had a "Catch-22" in her hands.
Half finished, half crushed.
Half torn, half eaten.
They said she could have died from reading. Or eating.
I see words.
Words that could have resurrected Jesus on the third day. When one of the guards, huddled near the cross, read to him what his mother wrote on his cross.
He whispered,
"My boy, it's time.
You've done well.
You've done good.
Now, hug your mother one last time before you go home."
The other guards, alert and scared, slit his throat only moments before twitching supposedly dead fingers interrupted them.
I see words.
Words that were written on impulse. Words that were planned, the pauses, the commas thoroughly thought-out even before the words themselves. Words that were most often in my mother's non-existent letters to my dad. Words that were written by my friend to her father in war, hoping that he was alright and not in the middle of crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed or bloodied, limb-less, unable to tell that he loved her, one last time.
I see words.
Words that made Jesus God.
Words that made my neighbour an unsolved mystery.
I see words. And I write them. And then I throw them all away because there is never anything good that comes out of hanging onto words.
Especially, like the ones that made my neighbour die.
©nyx___malfoy -
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It was that sort of sleep in which you wake every hour and think to yourself that you have not been sleeping at all; you can remember dreams that are like reflections, daytime thinking slightly warped.
-Kim Stanley Robinson -
sparkularity
4w
M A G I C S H O P
. ･ﾟ✧ It’ll comfort you, this Magic Shop.
The thoughts were accelerating inside her head. She wanted them to slow down so she could breathe but they won't. Her breaths came in gasps and she felt like she would black out anytime.
Her heart was hammering inside her chest.
"Stop. Stop—"
She felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Tension grew in her face and limbs, her mind replaying the last attack. Her breathing became more rapid, more shallow.
"Millie, I've got us food! Come downstairs!" She heard a voice; it was him.
In seconds she was curled tight in her bed, her only movement was the trembling of her limbs and salty tears sogging her sleeves.
"Millie?"
"N-no—"
Her head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing her mind into blackness.
"Millie..?" She saw the drop on his face as soon as he realised what was happening to her.
"I—"
"Shh shh, I'm right here, I'm with you." He spoke softly.
"It won't last long, love, it won't last long."
"Baby, breathe. Everything's alright."
"There's nothing, there's no one, it's just me and you, okay sweetheart?"
"Sorry—"
"Breathe, breathe."
"You're doing so good for me." His arms were wrapped right around her bringing a peace she had never known before, a calming of the storms in her heart.
"Deep breaths for me, okay?" He muttered, while she nodded.
"I'm really proud of you."
"Are you hurt anywhere?" His eyes raked all over her body to see if she had been hurt. She shook her head.
He was her light in the darkness, a lone star in an otherwise empty sky; her favourite element of the magic shop.
Now that she was calm, he quickly got the food upstairs and played her favourite movie, joining her back on the bed.He eagerly wrapped his arms around her waist, she buried her head in his chest.
"Isn't this movie better?" He asked at the middle of the movie, and looked down and saw that she was half asleep, her eyes opening at his question. She barely nodded, her eyes slipping close again. He let out a chuckle as he softly gave her a peck.
"Night, beautiful."
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For all those who have anxiety, let me tell you, you're very strong, dealing with everything. And you're gonna get through this!
I love you
©sparkularity -
Pocketing an insane experience is worth emptying your pockets.
©alto_spade -
Love
We return to nature to escape from hatred.
Blacks and whites are simply the amount of pigment simply due to their environment, not because of politics and money and whatever manufactured argument we create.
We've created such a complicated world with so many other factors, but when we return to the great outdoors, everything returns back to simplicity.
Life is simpler.
Life is beautiful.
Life is finally full of love...
©introvertedwitch -
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