| "Not how we started, but how we ended up. Not what we were, but what we’ve become." |


Dead Men Tell No Tales"Yo ho ho, a pirate's life for me!" sang Captain Hook as he left his chamber. His first mate, Smee, was sleeping outside the door. "Get up, you son of a biscuit eater!" cried Hook, kicking him. "There's work to be done!" Smee scrambled to his feet.Dead Men Tell No Tales
"Avast ye, mateys - our ship must sail on. We've got to find that blasted Peter Pan!" The crew stared back with blank expressions. "Dont stand around like a bunch of bilge sucking idiots!" Hook screamed. The crew immediately bustled about until a large crash took them by surprise.
"Blimey!" they chanted in unison,


SeekingScanning the masses, we are all slithering, bellies down and the sound of scales chafing the ground. We are serpents, freshly molded in the workings of sin, and constantly vulnerable to the "secrets" flowing from his tongue. We are straying, waiting for guaranteed salvation.Seeking


I HeardI heard the front door close, the soft push of the frame, the key in the lock. You moved from the bed to the floor, to the main hall stairs, to the foyer, to right in front of him, that look on your face.I Heard
I heard the pleading whispers, the hushed remorse and pang of guilt. You refused to just go back to bed, to wait until morning, to wait for better timing, to just move on and trust.
I heard the china break, the dishes shatter in large shards. You threw it against the wallpaper, with dirty words spilling from your mouth and accusations filling up


Just RunRunning weary through spinning cars The sun is early, the day's just begun The only heartbeat heard is ours Running weary through spinning cars We'll fast forward, erase the scars Rewind through the pains, until there are none. Running weary through spinning cars The sun is early, the day's just begunJust Run


Can YouLimp on the asphalt, a shrewd voice forces its way up to the full height of the three-piece suits rushing by.Can You
Tattered, callous fingers, made of patchwork-colored skin, outstretched; searching for some generosity, his brown eyes moving in all directions, looking for the least bit of sympathy.
Can you spare some change?
Heads turn in reverse directions, ears becoming deaf to the uttered words. Concentration placed on me, myself, and I.
Footsteps fade, the moment passes.
Can you spare me? Can you change?
by *Death-By-Romance
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| I'm Sara, a 19 year old college student, attending university in New York, USA. My major is English, with a concentration in Publishing, and my minor is Fine Arts, specifically Graphic Design. I'm originally from Pennsylvania. I have an addiction to good literature, chai tea lattes, and fabulous pairs of shoes. I'm a huge fan of baseball, the Beatles, and Van Gogh. My favorite authors are F. Scott Fitzgerald and Carol Goodman. I like movies that make me think and people that make me laugh. I want to travel the world and learn everything I can from the people I meet. I hope to one day be an editor, and eventually have my own work published. "Life is too complicated to be told in a linear fashion." |
ty for the fav.
--
just because your mother calls you her kid doesn't mean she loves you.
Just letting you know!
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Founder of =Inked-Page | Staff for *100ThemesChallenge, *ProsePlease | Lit Critic at *devCRIT
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