Reality is for People who Lack Imagination

If I could sunbathe
medicine I would not need
Time to walk on home

Title: Ode to the Gone Vanished Taken Stolen Left
Fandom: Torchwood
- Characters: they who are... (specific narrator)
Rating: G
Summary: That's all there is. There isn't any more.
Notes: Spans ENTIRE series, in part. Including CoE, especially CoE. So SPOILERS. Conducted with Captain Jack's theme music in mind as audio.

...I just can't sleep.



( Run Jack run )

When the alarm goes off, it was never a good sign.

A hand whipped out to fumble for the bedside clock making the obscene wracket, a finger finding the button and depressing it into oblivion.

--

For my own start. Anyway.


Please look closely upon my body. Can you see the faint muscle tremor, that I shake to and fro in such fine ripple, I shudder with each one? Can you look close at the hand that trembles so, shakey, an artist's bane for they must have the dexterity to line straight and pretty. Watch it touch my lip as it quivers from breath so scattered and uneven, I must be malfunctioning. Breaking down in the mind, and waiting for the tears to fall, for something has touched me, in a simple little way that cannot be repaid equally, for I've been reading xxxHolic and am now afraid to find the true price of what should be given back in return.

Paid accounts aren't supposed to be so...

Wait for me, Bunny. I'll find you glory.

Title: Just ask me to
Fandom: Pokémon
- Characters: Brock's Croagunk
Rating: G
Summary: A Molestshipping poem.

( Read more... )

Title: Vita Excessum (there's nothing Latin about it)
Fandom: Torchwood
- Characters: "life" and "death", mortals
Rating: PG
Notes: Hidden spoilers up to episode 2x08. Gross metaphors. And by gross, I don't mean 'disgusting'.

( Life yearns for death. Death yearns for life. )

I guess this is what moving does: you really do wind up going through things you probably wish you didn't have to.

( the titleless poem )

Shitty, ain't it?

( untitled (because the perfect name hasn't come to me yet) )

You Remind Me of the Spirit I Danced Upon Death

Once Upon A Time
the night of the town was cold
He was bundled in His blankets
and the snow was fresh outside His window.

The snow was fresh, the clouds were gone
the moon was full
And a pale spectre made tracks
for he was the living
but everyone would claim he was dead.

he shined and reflected light
like a silver ring

He was asleep
he would not be detered.
His window, while shut, was unlocked
Not an obstacle to have feared
but he found it less of a hassle

His window slid open
the cold wind blew in unforgiving
and he closed it to prevent an unnecessary
discomfort for Him.

A child He was
for all the years He lived
So useful too
but not like He'd ever predict.

he reached out to touch
leather-painted fingers cold on a dark cheek
He stirred
he anticipated it

Nothing.
he leaned forward
and whispered His name
Two tiny syllables and six letters long.

Sleep made Him speak
and spoke another name back
Three average syllables and nine letters long.
he was pleased

Wake up, he whispered dreamily

And it was no dream no more.