Tea & Noodles

I can't sleep, not now. Your breathing is shallow against my chest. Your eyelashes fluttering as I move to watch you move closely into the night light. I can't get enough of you. You are the parchment I have longed to write on; your blood red lips the seal I have broken. It took too long to tear open your pages, to crease you and peel back page, after page, after page. I gaze over your skin, I finger your curves and you smile as if you know the truth and I watch as you slide to move ever deeper into me. You are mine now, just like the others. There will always be a page to turn, always be new ink to spill and the hunger to leave my mark is going no where. *** AN: ten minutes and the word "Lust" and this is what I come out with. It's also completely work safe. Now go have a cold shower all of you! Thanks for reading!

Free Writing 1# Trouble at work. I had to help. Only four hours. It's just a job.  I needed to be more presentable. Trouble with my appearance.  Why is my hair blue? Where have you all gone? Help.  I'm lost, you're lost. Blue.  Photographers everywhere why? Free Writing 2# If I could climb, I think I can see the star. So bright above me. Close but almost out of reach. I need the star. It calls for a wish. I need to find some height, a ladder, chair, there's nothing but the dark, looming. I hear voices. Dangerous voices. I need the star to survive. So I can go home. I hope I can go home...the star is dying out - I'm just out of reach now, reach! then gone. Dark.  **** Creative writing left me buzzing yesterday even though there were only four members (even our leader was missing!) but we did get to try something that I have never tried before. Free writing. A way of writing almost mindlessly and letting your brain wonder. It's a li...

Peaceful? This place? The unnerving white walls, the people staring down from portraits of years past - bearing into my soul. They call this place a sanctuary. I call it a prison.  Destiny they call it. Destiny of the one to fight the dragons. An honour, a privilege to die for the world. A world that exists in ignorance.  Well I've had enough. Let someone else fight for you - to die for you! I don't want this, didn't want it at the beginning and still don't want it now. This peer pressure to do the right thing. What is the right thing?  What have these people done for me that makes it okay to die for them?  It's peaceful now. The screams. The fires of a fight that is no longer mine. You go save yourselves, that's right. I'm having no part in this and I will watch the world burn as a spectator. Even if I have to burn myself. Besides, it's better to burn in peace isn't it? *** This is what happens in my head when you play 8 awes...

Okay, so I was late - but it was just a meeting, a meeting between strangers, about strangers whom we serve everyday. I uneasily sat down, my eyes wandering to look at the group around me. It's not that we're never met, that would be a lie - but in the world of work, of service we provide the faces that look upon me now are masks, an illusion of reality. You really have to look to realize the truth. "Sorry I'm late," I begin to announce. The seat I've taken is cheap and tacky and the boss rolls his eyes in my direction. "Your funeral," he said eyes returning to his paperwork. "Besides, it's not me you should be apologising to" Of course not. The girl on my bosses right was giving me daggers, repeatedly, and I can only assume due to her...skimpy attire that I was keeping her from a very important date. Well f*** me sideways, I've become the white rabbit in all of this. "Well like I said on the phone" I repeat to the crowd, ...