_________ closing in ... }

009; namiku ahoy!

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 02:12:59 GMT

Since I've been sleeping, breathing, drawing, and writing Namine/Repliku these past couple of weeks, here is something I wrote while looking at a 100 prompt challenge list. It's short but I think when I pair it with a picture it'll become more powerful.

Title: 001. Beginning
Rating: G
Based on: Kingdom Hearts
Type: Drabble.
Pairing: Namine x Repliku.
Summary: Their imaginary first meeting, I guess.
Notes: Sugar-induced.

001. Beginning.

She shivered, feeling the hue of his eyes before she saw them. Of everyone there, she was the only one he noticed. She knew that if she begged for freedom, the prison guard behind her would lock her back in the cage, or strike her, or worse. And she didn’t want to go back to her cage. So while the rest of the death-coated terrorists talked about other things, the blonde girl slowly lifted her head and met eyes of the most supernatural aquamarine color.

“What is your name?” the older man with dirty yellow hair commanded the boy.

“My name is… Riku.”

“I’m Naminé,” she replied softly, knowing full well they were doomed from the start.

And I will be your downfall.

008;

Mon, 08 Oct 2007 03:42:49 GMT

Title: Crutches
Rating: PG
Based on: Kingdom Hearts AU RP
Type: Drabble.
Pairing: Sora x Roxas.
Summary: Sora got hurt in the crossfire, and due to the chase, Roxas and the remaining 'good' members of the Organization had to leave him at Aerith's to heal.
Notes: I miss this RP. There is no happy ending for Sora and Roxas. It was sorta like a Romeo and Juliet thing and it was weird but I loved it. See: angelface; crutches ; icameback.

Crutches
--

He felt. God, he felt. He felt, and he tasted, and he touched, and he lived. Maybe the things he sensed from outside and within weren't that great, but he was aware of them, and that was what counted.

He could've sworn there was someone else there with him, holding his hand through it all. Sometime during the murky night before, he'd shifted and opened his eyes just a peek, and spotted unruly blond hair paired with blue eyes cold enough to chill anyone's heart.

Sora vaguely remembered yelling at Roxas, the appearance of a swift bluish animal. He remembered smacking his head on the door of Axel's car, and apologizing for bleeding all over Roxas. That was it, really. Sora wiggled his left arm experimentally. Something nagged, but mostly he just felt the strain of bandages wrapped from shoulder to shoulder, covering the vulnerable spot between his arm and his chest. Sora was still delicate in so many ways, as fragile yet sunny as the quiet blue drapes decorating the room.

Ah, sunlight. He felt better already. No one was around to talk to, unfortunately, and Sora had a lot to say. He wished he knew where he was. Maybe this was Roxas' relative's house, or something, and when Sora staggered into the hall he'd be greeted with that happy, bright-eyed smile-- the one he'd taught Roxas himself.

Sora touched both bare feet to the foor. Both were somewhat bandaged, much to his disdain. Maybe he could scare Roxas into thinking he was part mummy! Oh, man... He could make it out into the hall. He had the hope, and the stomach. One, two, three!

"Mmfm, floor..." He found himself introduced to bluish-gray carpet. It was only when he lifted his head again that he realized how dire the previous night had been. Or was it more? Maybe a week had passed without Sora's knowledge. Was Roxas okay? Of course he was! More importantly, Sora had his good leg beneath him, trying to push himself up with his good arm, and he only ended up tilting to one side.

"Sora!" a motherly but firm voice snapped in alarm. He blinked up into a fabulous pair of all-knowing green eyes framed with auburn. Warm hands, hands he remembered from his twilight sleep, looped around him and gently placed him back on the bed. A green smell-- flowers-- rolled off Aerith's long, freed curly hair. "What are you doing out of bed so early? You aren't ready yet."

Sora beamed at Aerith even though his arm nagged at him, a sinking down sort of feeling. "I'm ready for anything! I wanna see Roxas. Where is he?" Sora glanced around the room again. "He's here, right? Can you tell him I'm up?"

Aerith's small concerned smile wilted at the corners. "Sora, he's... he left with Axel and Demyx three days ago."

Sora faltered. "Oh..."

Aerith nudged his arm gently. "Here, I'll fix you up some breakfast, then we can talk about everything. Look over there-- I left you crutches..."

007;

Thu, 04 Oct 2007 07:53:13 GMT

Title: October
Rating: G
Type: Poetry, masculine rhyme.
Summary: Something I've been wanting to get out for a while.
Notes: I feel really, really crappy.

October
--

you've got no class,
your style's run dry
all that's left of you is gone
in the blink of an eye . . .

you strung me along,
a doll or a friend
and i'd like to say this is the end--

but each day's a little harder
and freedom is a lie
the only thing to count on
is that you can't rely

i want to say i'm sorry
though i'm not sure i can
after all we said and did
i'm not much of a fan (of either of us)

i'm afraid to reach out
but i'm afraid to keep in
i know the rift between us
will probably never mend

if you ever get this note
which you'll probably never read
i hope you understand my words
and why i feel the need

to tell you that i'm sorry
though it's certain, far too late
i don't want forgiveness
just please nullify this hate

it's far too much to carry
when it's sadness, too, i bear
and since we rarely talked
it seems a bit unfair

so here we are again
facing across the road
i'm unsure of my direction
you're unsure of your own load

we've done a bit of growing
but it'll never be enough
to pave the stones between us
our going's always rough

i love you still somehow
i kept all you ever gave
i wear it to remind myself
of what i couldn't save

if at the end you're lonely
or the path is just too dark--
despite the war, despite the words
that always left a mark--

some part of me's still here for you
the part i left behind (with you)
call me anytime you want
i'll try to ease your mind.

006; poemprosedrabblethings.

Wed, 29 Aug 2007 12:04:04 GMT

Just some crap I wrote for a couple of rps.

Title: Long Lost Letter
Rating: G
Based on: Kingdom Hearts AU RP
Type: Song
Pairing: Riku x Roxas. But only because that's the context of the RP.
Summary: Riku needed some 'original' material to draw upon in the cafe, so I wrote this.
Notes: Cute but cheesy.

long lost letter
--

Hello, this is your neighbor
Hello, this is your friend
Hello, this is your admirer
Hello, is this the end?

There's so much I've to tell you
There's so much I forgot
How to say you're everything--
that I am not

{ This is my lost letter
This is my lost letter
To a long-lost lover
A long-lost last-love letter }

Hello, this is a child
a kid with muddy hands
I spent so many hours
learning how to be a man

I'm not sure where I'm going
I'm not sure what I'll do
Wherever I end up I pray
this note makes it to you

{ This is my lost letter
This is my lost letter
To a long-lost lover
A long-lost last-love letter }

I won't ask you to wait
You have a life to lead
But you can call me anytime
Should you feel the need

I'm not so far away
I'm not so far away
I'm not so far away
As long as there's a letter...

This is my lost letter
This is my lost letter
To a long-lost lover
A long-lost last-love letter

This is my lost letter
This is my lost letter
To a long-lost lover
A long-lost last-love letter
A long-lost last-love letter
This is my lost letter
To you

Title: Fading Grace
Rating: PG
Based on: Kingdom Hearts AU RP
Type: Drabble.
Pairing: Sora x Riku -- RP context.
Summary: Riku is a struggling writer and this is his final chapter-- absolute /crap/. Lol.
Notes: It's terrible-- on purpose! Reference to "What Sarah Said" by Deathcab for Cutie.

fading grace

fifteen. push.

I knew it as soon as I stepped into the room. She was dying. It was the kind of smell that lingered in a room even while the living still breathed, the kind of smell that Death gave off while he sat on her soft, shaking chest with his mouth wide open, ready to devour her soul when she gave it up. But she hadn't done that yet, and probably wouldn't, for at least a couple of days longer. I knew I shouldn't be here. I knew I should have turned away at the door and just kept walking. After all, I had a life to get back to. I didn't have time to love the dead.

She looked dead already. My flowers crunched as I set them in the wilting vase, causing her to stir. Her blue eyes were still the same intense blue I could steal from beyond the gauzy curtains, but they held a glazed over look; she wasn't completely here. That's why her alertness startled me. "Hey, what are you doing here so early? This ain't my funeral..."

I smiled, half in relief and half because if I knew I didn't I'd just break down and cry. I should have never come. I knew it. But I was here anyway. Who was it...? That was in a song. I remember now, by some band I never really cared for. "Love is watching someone die." Yeah, it was. And I loved her every minute and every second of every day, every little cough she made, every little eyelash and every little hair out of place, and I loved her, and by God I was dying in that room too.

Title: Tangerine Dream
Rating: G
Type: Translation.
Summary: Typical pop song. I love it though.
Notes: Had some help from Kenji, my Japanese MSN friend.

This town is noisy
when it comes to sleeping
It has no manner of speaking
Anxiety lifts its head

I want to catch my dreams and wishes
I have to chase depression to its limits
I sense the distance

{ These times will never come again
I won't run, I'll stay here and cry
I always do that sort of thing, you know }

Surprisingly, my mood recovers
I shed my fear
I experience restarting
the usual routine

{ We're searching for the swaying age,
but we're getting wounded }

"How are you?" was beyond the receiver
Every time, the voice's courage runs out

Catch all the smiles and the tears
and we'll run toward the future

When is that day?
Someday, for sure
Our wish will reach
because we believe

005; emoooo

Fri, 20 Jul 2007 09:25:32 GMT

Title: baptism
Rating: G
Type: Poemprose.
Summary: A vow of silence, two speakers.
Notes: God damn it.

baptism
--

by god does it hurt
knowing you both want the same thing
and knowing at the same time it's impossible
if the stars were aligned
if the sky tilted
if miles dissolved between us like i wished
i wished so fervently sometimes
did you?

did you really try hard enough?
does claiming some amount of money
somehow make your sacrifice worth more?

you were young and flighty
though i did my best to tie you down
i only did it so you wouldn't hurt yourself
i gave you everything i was on earth
and yet you still longed for the sky
to the exclusion of everyone, even me:
the only thing that was real

and now you are gone...
and now i am gone.
it was like you were never there...
it was like i was never there.
you were the only thing grounding me.
you were the only thing.

what now?
i don't know.
what of us?
i don't know.
let's fix this.
can we?
i want to.
do you?

it's so easy to want something,
not so easy to wish it into reality.
i succeeded with my wish
only to find it squandered
halfway across the universe
you and i are as different as earth and sky
the thin border between us
is filled with uncertainty and fear
by god, does it hurt
knowing that you hurt too
and even now (now more than ever)
it's all you can do to shove me away

it is for the best, then
that we take our silence and atone inwardly
embrace the baptism of sweet, sweet outward peace
and hope that by finally letting go
we may come together once more,
changed,
and resolved,
and whole.

004; more old shit.

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 06:46:06 GMT

Some old roleplaying poetry I dug up.

Title: When the moonlight...
Rating: G
Based on: Garnet's best friend has poor taste in men.
Type: Poemprose.
Summary: Don't fall for fallen angels.
Notes: I wrote quite a few of my earlier poems in this style.

when the moonlight shimmers across the courtyard
and a curtain of silver settles upon every living thing
when silence beseeches those who observe
your careful steps guided by a bloodstained feather
I may reach for your hand to show you
the moon on her cradle of cottonweave
but your eyes linger on the shadows of doubts
of fevered prayer and dizzening grief
blinded by something you imagine
to be as real as those that claw at our innocence
my tears echo yours
my blood spills as yours
but our voices grow less in harmony with
every passing word
I still believe in the creature that spreads his golden sheet
upon the troubled world
I still believe in the fragments of happiness within your heart
I can stand here in the dim court
as numb as the dancers who waltz a waltz of numb
I may speak of health and help and hope
but a coat of crimson descends and hides me from view
I may shout and reach and die
but if you do not listen
I know the reason why
I know and yet I linger still
weariness drips from my limbs
as fluid and fleeting as angry blood
I know and yet I linger still
I ask nothing and yet I ask the world
do not wish for that superfluous wish
for only regret can come of this

Title: First Dance, Prism, Crown
Rating: G
Based on: Roleplay.
Type: Poemprose.
Summary: Bebedora, a strange reanimated puppet girl, describing various encounters with her shy love interest.
Notes: First Dance is my favorite.

first dance
--
after the merriment of the evening
stubborn in my colors, i refused
to believe in what i had seen
and yet something called me
it called me back into being
your sideways smile left me wondering
have you spun life on its end?
questions whirl like flowing skirts
in that seat of waltz, two figures
you and i, staggering to believe
that we, too, could amount to something.
just you and i as the cold ashes
of what could have been,
what could be,
settled around our heads like halos
decrepit and forgotten and given-up-on
and yet we continued to dance
as if we knew what we were doing
as if we had a chance
and the grim fear faded
and the music slowed
and everything ceased to exist
except your eyes
so wide and bright, a window
into the lighter shades beyond.
i don't know what i felt then
or what i feel now--
but if it is rosy, dawn-colored,
or a tender red,
then i believe in the
miracles of a clumsy evening.
so be it,
whatever this is,
so be it.

prism
--
what is
feeling his colors without seeing them
what is
the quiet thrill of whisper and skin
what is
the tightness of strings i cannot manage
what is
that light
that sweet sweet light and pale hues
in his eyes, in his touch, in his heart
and in mine
what is
dissolving the hollowness
what is
the promising echo
i think i know
this elusive four-letter word
that moves mountains rather than flattens them
that guides the strings rather than breaks them
that heals and
that transcends the shape of souls,
the color of hearts,
the perception of sides
should our star fade tomorrow,
i will go with my hand in his
no fear,
no anger--
just the warmth refracting
through half-trembling souls
and clasped fingers

crown
--
i can still hear the ring
of a porcelain ideal shattering
to the floor
as if it were yesterday--
and maybe it was
i have either turned my back
on all i know
or i have outgrown
these worthless wings.
hold my hand, trembling boy.
never let go because
i'll use these pitiful wings to fly,
fly, fly on the lighter shades
of sky and soul.
let's leave the cold spread
of pale china pieces behind
let's leave it to those
who linger in the past.
we have no pasts, you and i
and if we do, it is far removed
because the colors change
and even scars diminish,
leaving only a shimmer-foolish
hope for the future...
but it is our hope
it is a crown of heather
rather than stars,
but it is our crown
and if we do not wear it
who will?

Title: To lose your warmth...
Rating: PG
Based on: Roleplay.
Type: Metered rhyme.
Summary: A woman speaks of her separation from her puppet master.
Notes: Intentionally Poeish.

To lose your warmth, no more sweet breath;
no longer heal the wounds life left;
to wander endless miles on,
awakening long after dawn--

That is the price I pay today,
the day I turned and went my way.

To feel the warmth, to breathe your breath;
to heal the wounds that hardship left;
love and lust, I was a pawn
and to you only a liason (so help me God--
I must go on)--

Brick by brick I'll make my road
with these confessions as my load.
Once the inches turn to miles,
no longer shall I be a child.

To lose your warmth, no more sweet breath;
no longer heal the wounds life left;
One thing I have always known,
written in these bricks of stone

and tears and blood this mortal shed:
This road was meant to tread, alone.

003; old poetry/shit update.

Sat, 30 Jun 2007 01:34:01 GMT

This is old shit I pilfered from an alternate journal.

Title: Restless
Rating: PG
Based on: Kingdom Hearts AU RP
Type: Angsty rantprosesongficdrabble.
Pairing: Riku x Sora. Like everything else I write when thinking about Pez.
Summary: Riku expects to talk to Sora on the phone but ends up spending the night alone in thought.
Notes: Song is something I wrote myself. For Pez. Lolz. xD Also, the improper capitalization and stuff was intentional.

he had a feeling silence would greet him on the other side of the line.
and it did.
silence greeted him for a solid five minutes.
it poked at his psyche, mocked his mind.
riku decided that he should occupy himself since sora
was going to be late.
he undid the clasps of his acoustic guitar case. it balanced in his lap hesitantly,
cold but full of promise nonetheless. it also snarked at him for being stupid enough
as to not practice for two weeks.
the tuning was still as sharp as ever. his fingers danced along the frets, reciting a tune he'd worked on the last time.
and all the while, silence screamed at him from the phone resting on his knee.
riku took a deep breath and began to sing along with the clumsy but determined chords.

'I close my eyes and I am soaring...'

Every couple of minutes, he pressed the phone to his ear in case Sora had wandered into the phone conference and paused to listen.

'Afraid of heights and cold and me...'

Perhaps somewhere deep inside he wished, truly /wished/ for Sora to listen.

'The city passes blurred below...'

He dove into practicing again. He vowed to finish this song and sing it to Sora someday-- when he had courage.

'My only hold in this dark dark world...'

Why did his mom have to put him in that other stupid high school? It was full of kids on antidepressants and people stumbling through life backwards with eyes closed.

'Your fingers wrapped in mine...'

Some nights, as he lay his head on his pillow, he imagined he could hold Sora's hand despite the miles. Maybe in the heavy air in his room, if he caught enough air in his hands, he could defy space, time, and gravity and find himself in the arms of the person he cared about most.

'As we journey through time...'

He pressed his lips softly to the phone and hung up
and spent the rest of the night in restless darkness.

Title: 88
Rating: G
Based on: A bus ride.
Type: Short poemprose.
Summary: Some thoughts about the folk who use public transit.
Notes: I like to write urban poetry I guess.

88
--
Never have I seen the face
of poverty so clearly:
faces worn, wrinkled from sun exposure
or the crinkle of a smile;
voices otherwise forced hush
beneath the oppression of a society
bent on glorified greed;
hands toiling typically toward
a distant dream
are now tools to touch, clasp, love.
I do not know these people,
but already, I love them.

Title: reds and blues
Rating: G
Type: Short poemprose.
Summary: A rainy car ride.
Notes: Somewhat angsty. Written before asking someone out like.. in May.

reds and blues
--
a girl
tapping her fingers on the frosty breath of the window
lights roar loudly by until she's left in the silence once more
just once more,
relive that moment
she felt destiny at her fingertips and wrapped herself so tight,
so tight around it
and just cradled it inside
like a candle with the world's last flame
her last chance to breathe in when all she's done is breathe out
outside is the rain, begging to get in
though the window is foggy and frosty and threatening that candelit memory
eventually she will pull away and slide back into her car seat,
more numb lights jabbing at her temples
and she will numbly walk out into the rain
still cradling that little hint of a candleflame
until she leaves her coat on the floor and carefully places the candle on the sill
to burn until sun paints over the storm

Title: let no distance
Rating: G
Type: Poem
Summary: The lengths one will go to ensure love.
Notes: Long distance relationships are hard.

let no distance
--
Is it so wrong to linger, perhaps,
in this half awake state
where I know-- don't imagine,
just know--
that your hands would tightly wrap
around mine?

And is it so wrong to desire
something more than words
can convey--
something like two hearts reaching across
terrible, lonely, imagined miles,
separated by space and inches of sunlight
but ringing, crying singing at once?

Even if it is,
let no distance hinder us--
physically
or mentally--
need no image of you besides
the one my mind paints.

Title: summer drive
Rating: G
Type: Poem
Summary: A car ride in late July.
Notes: Stuck in neutral...

summer drive
--

i'm just a little tired
open my eyes though i don't want to
they close again so readily--
i feel like i'm blind to a lot of life

but it's alright
summer's coming sweetly
like watermelon salt
on tongue's tip

the speed running its cold fingers
through my hair
tap fingers on the edge of the car door
follow some heavy beat
i can see the hills passing in the distance
close enough to touch
but i hold myself back, always

i imagine
if i was just a little stronger,
a little more brave,
i could touch the whole world

Title: hands
Rating: G
Type: Poem
Summary: Yearning for that moment where you and I connect...
Notes: Slightly... written late at night syndrome.

-- hands --

oh thank god
i thank god for you
always spiritual, never religious--
til now
i was entangled in something greater than myself
but you appeared to me like stage lights
reawakening the slumbering actress
you are the coat around my shoulders
and the hands that put it there
i am sure they are tender from
lack of hard labor but bearing scars nonetheless
i am sure they are an art in themselves
and i am comforted
not only
by your love and goodwill sitting on my shoulders
but that someday those hands
will rest inside mine.

Title: Skybound
Rating: G
Type: SONG! WITH CHORDS! OMG!
Summary: A song about dreams: the ones we see at night and the ones we aim for, and how they are often inexplicably connected.
Notes: Recorded version coming soon. Don't expect to follow my chording that well either; I'm self taught and my chordbook doesn't have half of what I play.

Skybound
-
Standard tuning; capo @ 2nd fret
--
Fmaj7 D
I struggle slow
Fmaj7 D
motion, lights down low
Fmaj7 D
Caffeine and love collide
Fmaj7 D
and take me on a wonderful ride

{Chorus}
E D
I close my eyes and I am soaring
E D
afraid of heights and cold and me
E D
the city passes blurred below
G E
my only hold in this dark dark world
A
your fingers wrapped in mine
A Fmaj D
as we journey through time

Fmaj7 D
Sneakers scuff chill tile floors
Fmaj7 D
the girl in the corner,
Fmaj7 D
a woman in my wallpaper
Fmaj7 D
and we are left behind

{Chorus}
E D
Opened eyes yes I am soaring
E D
afraid of heights and cold and me
E D
the problems pass unmissed below
G E
my only hold in this dark dark world
A
your fingers wrapped in mine
A Fmaj D
as we journey through time

{Bridge}
Dfr5 Ffr5
It's time that we delved deep inside
Dfr5 Ffr5
for dreams that we once tried to hide

Fmaj7 D
Living life, loving love
Fmaj7 D
Just tell me your heart
Fmaj7 D
screams as loud as mine
Fmaj7 D
as we fly through time

002; massive poetry update.

Wed, 30 May 2007 05:59:02 GMT

I've decided to make this my writing journal. Without further ado...

Sonnets!

I wrote these sometime around March for English and ended up giving them to my girlfriend. Both are really dense so if you have any trouble interpreting, tell me. xD

The Long Road to Heaven
--

To heaven is a longward path to tread,
for all the obstacles our worn feet know
do not appear as oft as we would read,
yet on we go through rain or sleet or snow.

Pursued by many-headed dog at heels,
ahead, a shadowed beast to run me off.
Against these hazards I bade bravely steels,
Boots guided by a secret I speak soft.

Now driven by an oath my footsteps be
though snow and ash blind. Where am I to rest?
Pretend I be not here, but close to she
who claims my all; the distance foul contest.

Along this hell-barred path I duly walk
toward Earth-bound Heaven: no inch of me mock.

Lovescapes
--

The ancients had their muses to compose,
And I, the sweetest skin with which to taste,
to see, to touch, to draw no bland repose
but paint Penelope's fair beauty chased.

Great Shakespeare used quill pens to write his verse,
but I require no such sustenance.
Give me the image of my poor soul's nurse
and I shall mimic ancient Av'lon's chants.

Da Vinci bade his math-hewn wings to fly.
He painted doors, invented routes to leave
and through those hidden exits I defy
the soul who speaks against my dreams conceived.

My love is all I need to set art free;
A future reached grants my serenity.

Now to get my mood theme to work. D<

001;

Tue, 29 May 2007 04:47:08 GMT

I have no freaking idea what to use this journal for... I might move over from dagger. Might be an RP journal. Do not know.

Ideas?

Yeah. That's what I thought.