Favourite genre of music: Assorted
Favourite style of art: Erm... Does drama count?
MP3 player of choice: Old iPods. The new ones freak me out with their thinness.
Favourite cartoon character: Starfire from Teen Titans
A Gradual Graduation Parked in front of the stairs leading onstage, what I was about to do had a certain air of rightness about it, just as it had when I'd accepted my diploma.A Gradual Graduation by Suki-chan36
The room was overtaken by the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights as I began the arduous process of getting up. I was weaker this time, and the audience could tell.
I grasped my cane firmly in my right hand and planted it on the Astroturf. My left hand wrapped around the arm of my wheelchair. Slowly, by inches, I stood up, having to pause while still in a hunched position as a wave of weakness tried to yank me back down, making my head swim. My knees buckled slightly, and my cane wobbled from having to support the dead weight I had mostly become. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, I breathed, waiting for the dizziness to subside and for my legs to regain their strength. After a few breaths, my cane stopped wobbling, and I gingerly lifted my head and straightened my spine.
Then came the stairs.
The click of my cane preceded
DescantI remember resigning myself to the inevitability of texting you, the feel of the song tugging my heart bittersweetly towards you.Descant by Suki-chan36
I remember our earliest days, feeling out a melody during our lunch hour, singing a song I barely knew but wanting to impress you.
I remember the way the bass line always shivered through my veins, smoothing the awkwardness out of my unseen movements.
I remember the way the song flowed between us as we lay on your bed – from lips to tongue to brain to soul.
I remember the way you lovingly slid my bra strap back onto my shoulder as we danced; retroactively realizing that that was the first warning of the no you would later give me.
I remember trembling and shaking in front of you, my song of sustenance shattered.
I remember needing you to tell me that I wasn’t wrong, or vile, or horrible.
I remember feeling that way anyways.
I remember our one good refrain.
Lost ArtifactsI wish we could reclaim that Sunday morning.Lost Artifacts by Suki-chan36
Lying in each other’s arms, there were no
Questions, no doubts, no thoughts at all, really.
You and I simply were together.
I remember the scent of scotch on your breath.
At first I thought it smelled like highlighters,
But after a while, that neon yellow tang
Gave way to something sweet and golden.
I remember the sound of your voice,
All cotton balls and morning gravel,
Blearily confirming that I was alright
With our closeness. I hummed a blissful “yes”.
Your fears brought that morning to an end –
But can such beauty stay buried forever?
Something for MeMy coat still hangs in the closetSomething for Me by Koriyu
I only bought it a little while ago
it seems as though a permanent layer of memories has settled on it's
Dust I can't bring myself to remove
Such a fine old piece, set in rich browns
Sepia, like old photographs I'll never be in
I never really intended on wearing it...
Even if it was expensive...
My memories are priceless
the image of your body filling it out, Coming alive...
It was cold out and you asked if you could wear it
And I said yes
as I held back a smile with my teeth when you admired yourself
in the mirror.
You gave me your arm like an old fashioned gentleman,
holding the coat closed like a door between reality and fantasy.
I took your arm...lovingly...Adoringly...
a gentle hold turned into a clutch through the pace of my heart
Took our first steps out the front door and plunged into
a sepia photo.
Two nostalgic ghosts promenading down the street.
I never really intended on wearing it...because it was for
just words...The crank on the music box turnsjust words... by Koriyu
Playing a tune that makes me want to cry
reading the fairy tales I loved.
A beautiful old mans sorrowful gaze slips behind my eyes
An old wound rips right open
and my heart feels raw and light.
I'll follow it to the back of my head
Nostalgia, is something I will let go of soon
when I realize your words had no special meaning.
That they were never for me in the first place
That I am not important and my memories will be misplaced before long
even so, I will miss you.