SapphireTheLovely

The hollow point of my best friend's shoulder makes a great pillow; arms and legs tangled up in a mess. His dark red hair interlocked with my dark blue on the stark white pillow case; we breath in unison, sigh in rhythm. During the day though, it's a different story. We're constantly at each other's throats, hatred spilling into every word and action. This is not the boy who pulled me off the bridge; who stole the knife from my hands. This is not the child I took with me when I left that group of people. I blame the lack of fights. We don't scream at each other, we don't rip into each other and then flee to lick our wounds. Ours is a friendsh

I was flying high, my sky blue wings free from bruises or abrasions for the first time in many years. A laugh escaped my lips as I turned to face the man beside me. His black wings had a red lightening bolt etched down the center of each. And there, on his left wing, dead center was a tiny blue feather. The correct feather, blood red, sat in the middle of my own deep blue wing. We had swapped that day he stole his wings back with a kiss. There was a rumbling off to my left, forewarning, a bad omen. I swooped away, he followed. We played for a while, and then the storm was upon me. Lightening and thunder crashing everywhere, I reached for him.

My name is not important. I have had many since the dawn of our time. My title, however is The Channel. I can take energy; pure and raw and pass it harmlessly through my body. I can take the most evil, vile energy straight from the seven circle of the dimension of Hell and filter out what I need to restore the balance of evil in the world. With the Kiss of Life, I can save someone. With the Kiss of Death, I can kill. I can pull energy from a person, pass it through my body, and send it where it needs to go. I am The Channel. I, along with the other three Keepers, am a Guardian of the balance, not only in this world, but in all dimensions and

The lighting is low, a few candles and a large fire is roaring in the fireplace along the far wall. The couch is large and perfect to sit on; not too soft but not too firm. There is smooth Jazz playing on low volume from somewhere in the room. On the low oak coffee table is a bottle of the finest red wine, Cabernet sauvignon , and two half full glasses.  On the rug in front of the fire place lounges a fluffy white cat, and outside the winter weather pounds on the windows fiercely.  On the couch is a woman, young, in her mid twenties. She is the one who has set this blissful perfect mood. Beside her is a young man, early twenties, yo

What is love? I thought I knew once but then everything changed. Now, I don’t know Tell me, what is love? everything in the world today is fake everything fades, even feelings so how do you know that love is real? The insucerities you gave, the doubts you left, they all linger, and now my heart is encased in stone. I am afraid to feel. Apathy has become my one true emotion, so, what is love?

You may not be the one who taught me not to trust. That may have been ingrained in my core from my very beginning. You may be the one who is trying to help me forget the past. You, and you, and even you, who have staid closest to me, who have held me at night, or traced my tears with your thumbs, and you, who I fight my inner battles for. But it is not enough, because I know better. Words are nothing but air, painting pretty pictures, of empty promises that are easily broken. As sad as this sounds; it gets worse. There is pain at my core, raw and open. Too many hurts have come and gone in my life. I may be young, and able to grow, and heal

The black goo was covering half of Zeke's body by now, but I didn't care. Shyly I placed my hand on my favorite of his tattoos. The blue anchor with the rope wrapped around it that was on his right hip bone. His arm settled around my waist, even though he didn't really mean anything by it. "I want you to go back inside when that thing fully takes over." I looked at him. "But Zeke, we have to draw it out…" He shook his head. "Arianna, this thing is dangerous and it could get you next." I shrugged just as he started convulsing and fell off the hammock. I jumped off and ran for the house. 'It's happening." I called out to my sister from the

  My eyes snap open, my body frozen, my breath tight and still in my lungs. I glance at the clock, it's 2:30 and something just woke me up out of a sound sleep. I lay still, my every sense and nerve straining to hear and feel the dark stillness of the house. Then I feel it, there's something upstairs. I relax slightly. Whatever it is, it never comes into my room. it comes close, but in my seventeen years living here, the thing has never crossed the threshold. I pull the covers closer to me, and scoop my pillows and stuffed animals around me. This thing shows up from time to time, does the rounds, and then leaves a few hours later. No one beli

I'm starting to tire, My mind runs on a clock, And I never have time to think, Or stop, And time keeps moving, Like a train without brakes, Slow through night, And zipping through day, My heart's felt better, Lest I jinx it, But my mind won't function Like it used to. Every day is a learning experience, And all I want to do is sit back, And watch the stars, And feel the warm air around me, And feel the dry sand on my feet, And feel the cool water against my hands, And feel the fire blazing in my veins and in my heart. I want to show these elements to the world, How I'm really a master of the elements on the inside, A force to be reckoned

In a Perfect World, I'd be on a dark desert highway, Racing Lambos with my soulmate, And I might be snuggled up in bed, On a cold Autumn night, With my soulmate. But did I explain these are two different soulmates? Both of which have left me. And these exist in different worlds, That I have nearly long forgotten. I ask you to show me your Book of Life, Because I want to know the story you have to share. I rarely show mine, But now my soul has been bared to them all, And all I ask in return is to read your Book of Life. Not so you can go ahead and take comfort in reading the story, And never reading more, Because I'm much more than my B

I found your Heart One day Sitting on the floor I picked it up and thought That it was pretty If a little dusty So I tucked it in my pocket And took it home with me.