Bravery and the Sleepy HeartBravery and the Sleepy Heart by xonlyindreamsx
Long, long, ago, when wizards and dragons ate ice cream sundaes for breakfast, there was a little boy with freckles sprinkled across his nose like confetti. His eyes matched the colour of the sky on a sunny day and his hair blended in with stars at night. The little boy's name was Bravery because he had the most courage out of all the children in the world. His parents were very proud of him and told him that he would be able to get his own pet dragon very soon. Bravery was going to name it Mister Monster.
One morning Bravery woke up and felt a little bit sick. His mom cooked him his favourite soup, Chocolate Fudge Noodle, but it didn't make Bravery feel any better. It wasn't his tummy that was sick, it was his heart.
"I think my heart is broken," Bravery told his mom when he had finished his bowl of soup.
"Hearts can't break, Bravery," his mom told him with a smile, "They can get sick, but they don't break."
"Then I think my heart is sick," Bravery said frowning.
The CandleThe Candle by anarchypress
all religions seem to know this:
I sometimes fantasize about
usually as a way to get back at those I
for not loving me
the way I want them to
this time is no exception
climbing onto my bicycle
in loose jean shorts
and an old T-shirt
explaining to me how unhappy she is
I ask her
is this how you want to spend your
time with me?
then ride off
up that treacherous hill with no
up to Highway 9
we live on Animal Farm
their howls phase
shift as they gun past
four wheels good! two wheels bad!
it must take an impressive act of will
for them not to twitch
just a little
and grind me beneath their machines
I heard a plant has evolved along some
that can breathe carbon monoxide
along the shoulder ahead of me
a candle burning in a glass jar
a homemade cross
and silver helium balloons
I picture a young woman
in my mind
I don't know why
did it happen recently? is this the
Amphibian Lovewhen i sleep i see you, womanAmphibian Love by israelswan
with your sirenous lips and ship-sinking hips
onion thrips that pull apart
the fragile layers of my paltry heart, and yet
punctual you seem,
lovely leviathan of my dreams-
swaying in the wind and smoke;
temporal visions of infinite scope
in my sleep the stars arranged themselves to be,
above and patterned deep upon and on
the dark-blue flanks of whales and rocks alike
to map the constellations of your back
between a texas purple cactus spike
and everything that might have been
had frogs layed eggs in night and sky
hung up as though to suit your eye
but for me,
so that I may not forget
the feeling of skin and taste of sweat.