The black and white portrait before me, crackles with faint hope glittering on the road. Sparkling dust of dreams shimmer down from the clouds. I glance over my shoulder and wish to see your soft features.
But you're not there.
A softening pain begins to grow around my heart, reminding me you're gone. And though you never knew me, I grieve. My heart is heavy with the flickering images of your irrational actions. I long to have helped you, to have comforted you when you felt completely alone. I long to be your angel. And for some reason, I know I would have loved you from the first tear. And for that same reason, I know I could have helped y
I clinched the cloth of his garment in my fists as I fell to my knees. I screamed out sobs of terror and weakness. All I could do was scream, using every bit of my lasting strength to convulsively wail at his feet. I wanted to be strong for him. I wanted to do so much more because of all he's done for me.
"I can't do this!" I shrieked. "What are you doing to me? Why?"
His hand was lent down and I clasped it quickly for strength. His calming energy caused me to look up and.........and......
His eyes were so peaceful.
He was still, compelling,and his face was soothing.
My voice was shaking as I brought up my other hand to clasp his one.
"I..
If I Could Talk to You Now by paulover, literature
Literature
If I Could Talk to You Now
Authors note: My grandfather shot himself in 1967 because he was religiously confused. It's been told to me that he felt like he had nobody to talk to. Not his parents, not his wife- Mary. Nobody. I've had numerous dreams about him and I talking and it's like we're best friends.
I love you, Grandpa Richard.
I walked into the bedroom, and saw him sitting on the side of the bed, the same place I always found him. He was leaning on his knees, staring out the window. I walked around and sat beside him. He looked tired, his black, short hair disheveled, his light brown eyes were reddish. His tan polo shirt fit snugly and his gray dress pants w
McCartney vs. Nesmith pt. 3 by paulover, literature
Literature
McCartney vs. Nesmith pt. 3
"I don't know, Lilly." I ran my hand through my hair, staring out the glass wall of Mike's bedroom. The beach was below, tide coming in and out. I glanced behind me to make sure Mike was still in the bathroom taking a shower. "I'm just....confused."
"If you ask me, you're an idiot for running away." She said, crunching a potato chip on the other end.
"What to you mean?" I asked.
"You and Paul just clicked and you meet this 'tall and lanky Texan', and you're swept off your feet. It just sounds too good to be true."
I took a deep breath, my eyes playfully looking at the horizon. "....This isn't right. I need to go back."
"Are you sure?"
My hair uncombed
The guns are long
God only know If I'll get the chance to finish this song.
Thousands look upon us.
Thousands beg and plead
We're just looking for peace
No bloodshed please.
The soldiers expect anger
And we expect death.
To war, we're no stranger
There's no young men left.
So, let's not fight over power
I walk to your gun calmly
And put in a flower.
McCartney vs. Nesmith pt. 2 by paulover, literature
Literature
McCartney vs. Nesmith pt. 2
I sat and stared out the plane window. The clouds were gray, they walwasy were, and there was no detail this far up, but I really wasn't looking at the clouds. I was thinking.
"Mike." I mumbled somberly.
"Yeah, Trigger?" He looked over at me.
"...." I took a deep breath, not moving my head, taking into my hand. "....Tell me you will take the pain of not being wanted."
He didn't say anything for a moment, but then he brought my hand up and kissed it, that deep draw responding.
"You know I will."
"Will you?" I looked at him now, with dead acquisition in my eyes.
"Well, yeah." He seemed to stutter.
I didn't respond. I looked back
It's a far cry from comfortable. It's in the same space as fear. And I won't be able to run away from it for quite some time. Once again, I come face to face with the fact that my future will be dark. I don't know whether to lash out or fall to my knees and pray. When you know the person who has made your heart crash and burn, what do you do? I'm not sure about anything anymore. I doubt the simplest of decisions. I sit at the cross roads in tears, trying to believe my faith is stronger than I know.
My dreams have crashed before they were even fully developed, no thanks to you. But I wave it off and try to pursue. I pick myself up from the d
You rummage through the clutter to find that one cigar you swore you'd never smoke. Instead, your greeted with photos of the exact thing your trying to get away from. All the secrets and all the damn lies.
Surely you have one smoke left.
Bottles of pills are scattered throughout the room and you surprise yourself at how many there are.
An empty lighter lays on the nightstand. You pick it up, running your finger over the trigger. Click.
With one sharp motion, you hurl it against the opposite wall, secretly wishing the house would go up in flames.
A black cigarette case lies on the floor and you swiftly pick it up,
Unexpected~Monkees fanfic pt. 3 by paulover, literature
Literature
Unexpected~Monkees fanfic pt. 3
I awoke that morning without Mike.
I didn't want to roll over because I knew Micky wouldn't be on the couch, Peter wouldn't be in the chair, and Davy wouldn't be in the floor. But I had to look, for confirmation. The air was still, silence lingered as it pulled on my tears. I bit my lip to see that the guys were gone. But, that's what we wanted, right? That was the whole plan! I started to regret all that I didn't say to the guys...but I quickly pushed it away. I got to spend time with my favourite band, and they became my friends. What more could I ask for? I got up and stretched, looking at the spot where Mike laid beside me. My teddy bear
Unexpected~Monkees fanfic pt. 2 by paulover, literature
Literature
Unexpected~Monkees fanfic pt. 2
Mike being the head leader here, explained it as some weird 24 hour time traveling thing. So I reasoned that they would be gone tomorrow morning.
"You boys can't leave, not after we've practically become friends." I mumbled.
"Well," Micky bit his lip. "We can set a date, and though we'll be older, we can come and see you. So that's what we did. Hopefully they remembered after 40 years, this very important date. We figured the day they got back to 1968, wait 40 years, and they make their way back to my house, it would only be the next day for me.
So, if I only had one day with the boys, I was going to make the best of it.
"Boys," I lig