Marco Polo

I had never needed someone before. But I needed him, like a dull ache he had to be near me, But I wasn't so sure he needed me.

Luke stood there, in his tails. Looking so uneasy that Hayden couldn’t help but chuckle, there was a certain innocence and uncertainty in the expression worn on his face that he loved. And again, as soon as the word popped in his head he snapped the rubber band on his wrist. Ultimately deciding that it paid off, as the thought ceased to disturb him. Hayden made his way over to Luke, who was a part of a larger, boisterous group of seventeen and sixteen year old boys. With a single gesture

a collection of poetry i have written myself. I'm not really sure if it branches any themes so knock yourself out, be warned I'm amateur at best and poetry is not my strength. However I do love it.

There's a fan overhead but he turned it off and i'm starting to wonder just what he's thinking. my palms are sweaty and my heart speeds up i can't believe that i agreed to this meeting. stop,think,think some more. figdet,twitch, twitch again. shake, blink, "stop it now!" his hands moving slowly down. I'm not ready, I can't think. He's got me cornered we're on the brink. whats he saying? "just calm down?" I told you once, I just want out. He's on the floor. I'm out the door. I should have st

I got blue skies and multi-colored tents and a real cute guy sitting on my legs. he's got shaggy brown hair and a twisted smile he holds up a joint and says lets hang for awhile. I cant help but stutter as I try to make my point. "isn't that the kind of stuff thats gonna get us caught?" he says to me, that none will have a clue. and as long as we don't share it. there's nothing they can do. I say why not and take a deep breath I choke on the air and won

i've woken up on a perfect day. there's a lump beside me, under the covers just a simple warmth that lets me know you're there. i've walked out to a perfect sky. though i've left you lie in bed. theres still a warmth that stirs inside here. i've come back home to our perfect life. you're still lying in bed and something quakes inside that something is not right here. i've picked you up in my imperfect arms and i'm carrying you, i'm pleading to you. i've been waiting in

Run from a cloudless life. Where everything is as clear like the whites of our eyes. I beg for complication. I wait for confusion. This dull reverie it sticks to our lives. Thousands of eyes staring down from our sky. They laugh and Mock. They jest at our wish. I wont be stuck in a life like this.

This world is stuck in a rut with beauty the way to get out. These lives, are circling and spinning trying to find a way out of here. I see the hopeless and the lonely fighting for some reason, fighting just to stay alive. cause theres a struggle. sand as they go down they find out. theres nothing left of who they were. because freedom only goes to the ones with the faces. faces like they've never seen. and they're not allowed to fly like that, they're not allowed to d

I try to talk sense to myself... but I just won't listen, When someone sits down to write it all out, to let go of something missing. A piece of a dream.... a scattered memory. A piece of a memory... or a scattered dream. Regardless of what it was, what it was, no longer is.

Mel had already changed. She had been the first one that Hamon had taken into the room, as he made us, me and Alex, wait outside and stare awkwardly at each other. He folded his arms and looked down, studying his shoes. I noticed his arm, it was marked by a black spiraling line down his fore-arm. ‘Alex, what’s on your arm’ I asked. He glanced up at me, then down to his arm. ‘Oh,’ he murmured. ‘It happened the other day, when I used a feather.’ He paused and looked thoughtful and confused.

It was brief and clumsy, and awkward, and shaky. But I loved it. In what seemed like a few seconds Alex pushed me back gently his eyes wide and his hair sticking up in strange angles. ‘How’d your hair get like that?’ I asked, vaguely interested in the answer. ‘Uh, from you.’ He replied. I frowned and he pointed at my hands. I looked down at them but didn’t see anything. ‘They were… up there.’ He muttered shyly. ‘Oh...’ Then there was silence, tense uncompromising silence that made me wa

I stumbled into the kitchen, slamming the backdoor on my way and was met with the overpowering scent of fresh paint. Mum was halfway through painting the lounge room and looked up as I entered. “Do you like it?” She asked wiping her wrist on her forehead smearing white paint across it. “Sure.” I said absently. Then I stopped as a thought occurred. Is this the last time she would get to paint the lounge room? My stomach lurched as the thoughts of seemingly innocent things that I would never

“No!” I tried to shout but my voice was locked behind closed lips. I stared blankly ahead as Alex’s head turned and he looked at me, his mouth moving with no sound to back it up. I couldn’t look at him but I couldn’t turn away. “Fuck, this is exactly what I needed right now.” Hamon grimaced. He wrenched the blade out of Alex who slumped, landing with a splash, blood droplets running down his face and smearing his chest. Hamon sighed and came over to me, kneeling in front of me. “You should

“Please tell me we are in the wrong place.” I said shutting my eyes and then opening them again. Hamon sighed somewhere to my right. I couldn’t tell where exactly, light was fading so quickly that my eyes had no time to adjust. “He likes to mess it up every now and again.” Hamon explained. “I wasn’t aware that a department store was counted as messing something up.” Alex said. I heard some rustling to my right again and ran into someone in front of me. “Sorry…” I murmured

But I'm still trying to make my mind up. Am I free or am I tied up? Winter: 8 It was easy to see why Hamon didn’t want to be a human forever, for starters the past few days had shown me just how easy it was to snuff your life out like a mere candle’s flame. Immortality has some pretty good benefits that’s for sure. Mel was jabbering away in my ear as we walked through the ‘lower-class’ suburbs. She had never been totally confident walking through there. We once saw a guy ge