Howl Like An Abrupt Combustion

JournalWord: Combustion.

::

You spew, bubble, and steam.
Howling like an instant combustion.
These phases of matter I can't explain.

My dear, you're more complicated than my chemistry research.
Sweet angel, from all these reactants, which will bring about the desired reaction?

I'm mixing, measuring, calculating every equilibrium throughout the day.
With nothing that brings a balance for the nights.

A recipe of hush, lullabies, and rocking, perhaps?
Maybe a beaker of warm milk to soothe your teeth?
Baby girl, you're quite the simple little thing, but simply destructive to my sleep.

::

I think I'm going to revamp my original island story, "Fool's Paradise", into a more fleshed out tale with an actual consistent plot. But this will be a challenge as it is now summing up to be quite a novel in itself -.- I did not expect so much more ideas and plot twists from a simple theme! :D

Well, I'll be working on that, but 

keep cheery!

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Blown Out Star

JournalWord: Burned out from revenge.

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The sky is a sea filled with stars, and he is the one fading sparkle in the depths, drowning in his own ambitions. The fire of his bitter regrets creep higher and higher, burning his flesh and blackening the edges of what little twisted soul he has been trying to salvage. 

It’s too beautiful a sight for something so tragic. Gazes are drawn away, in frequent intervals to document the destruction’s progress. The focus is on the tip of the blind side, just enough to watch the spectacular show. 

There is no applause, much less a sound to forgive. The crackling of the embers is enough to convey any last words. The flames welcome back their devil, releasing fireworks to the lowering sun as a reward. 

The horizon blinks it’s last wink of sunshine for the day and everything disperses. Coals glow, in solemn satisfaction, and the ashes flutter in the dead air, floating upwards toward the stars. They spend the night searching for a star that has burned itself out.

::

What others would see of a man after he has accomplished his revenge.

I'm also on FictionPress now, so if you're on there as well, I'd love to read your stories :)
I'll be posting the stories from here there, but all my stories will originate from here (this is my original home and I'm not straying!).

~mera!

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Human Feel

I don't feel like a human being.
I don't feel like a girl, a woman, a female.

I am grasping for straws that are out of reach.
I have a mind. I have my own set of morals, which seem like they are diminishing as more restrictions are fenced up.

The more thoughts I have as they struggle through the fog, the more I don't care about why they are not allowed.

I'm being boxed up like an animal, tamed to never have a thought and obediently leaping through the set hoops.

I don't feel real. I am imaginary. A figment of someone's twisted mind, paired to create some creature that is out of place.

I suppose I want to feel like I can break through this dream-like state and inject myself into a reality that makes me happy.

I am realizing that I am not happy.
Can walls without doors make anyone happy?

All these words that contradict. All these pains that only exist.
I'm deathly afraid of something that can only do me good.

I want to leave. I want to find a me. I want to be free.
But I feel so numb, like my limbs are dangling and I can only think.

I need to act. To show I am a person. A person who has grown up into an adult. An adult that needs to know who the hell she is.

Because I'm fairly certain she is someone.

Maybe a human being. Maybe I'm a human being. Maybe I can do more than just feel.
I may need to follow the vocal instructions and never come back to this cage.

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