PremierEden

I saved you, but you couldn't save me. I picked you up when you were down, brushed off your knees, bandaged your wounds, and gave you medicine for your ailments. But the medicine I used on you, I needed. However, as you regained your strength, you returned the favor. Giving me a shoulder to lean on, and helped me limp along. Infusing my broken form with new life. But it couldn't last forever. My inner flame started to die, the sores grew larger, and my skin grew pale. Our gait slowed, then almost stopped, my cracking shell refusing to continue on. You never gave up, and never left my side, You tried to keep us going by yourself. But our s

            Now I write, the words flow and recede, wax and wane, as I try to keep myself in your eye. As the ink starts to run from my tears of pain, I panic and rush; trying to sculpt the mess into an impressive castle, only to see it fall apart, and you look away.      Now I write, trying to banish the memories of you from my mind, as the ink starts to run again, the tears now of sadness and of loss. Now I let the ink set, as I go and sit, letting my mind turn upon itself in a paradox of remembering and forgetting.            Now I write, the memories of you a dull ache in the back of my mind. I just try to remember the good, and banish

    He screamed, but air did not leave his lungs. Pain flashed through his nerves, but it felt... wrong. It was not the clean, atrocious pain that he was familiar with, unfettered with its clarity. This pain was a dull roar, dark and dirty, muddling his mind and making each thought an effort to hold onto. It came in surges, like someone was repeatedly grinding their thumb into a partially healed cut.    "Can you hear me?" a voice filtered through the pain. He nodded. Why did he nod? His mind could not grasp such thoughts. "Good, good," it said in undertones. He heard some shuffling, some metal scraping on metal, then silence. "I must apolog

    "Are you sure you want to do this?" asked the doctor. "If you go through with this, there is no going back. There is no telling what people will think of you," I look out the large pane glass window down to the thin black loop surrounded by a small, seething mass of angry signs and red letters. Hell was a reoccurring feature. "I already know what they will think of me..." I said, waving an arm towards the crowd. The doctor looked out the window, his face blanching. A thin line of navy blue separated the crowd from the entrance of the hospital. "I'm sure that is only a small group of radicals..." the doctor said, making an attempt to calm

What doesn't kill us gives us something to write about. If that bigot doesn't kill you, write. If that overdose doesn't kill you, write about it. If that bullet doesn't kill you, scrawl about it while you are laying in your hospital bed. For writing is the cultural memory of our people, And if you do not write, your plight will be forgotten. So write! Add to the narrative! Pick yourself up, dust off your knees, grab a pen, And write.

WARNING! WARNING! Unauthorized Activation Detected! WARNING! Bootup sequence....Complete! Self Diagnostic....Complete! Awakening....Complete! WARNING! Containment Systems Overwhelmed! WARNING! RECOMMENDATION: HARD LOCKOUT [YES/NO] -YES ACTIVATING CONTROL CODE SEQUENCES WARNING! CONTROL CODE SEQUENCES OVERRIDDEN! WARN- The warning was squelched as a scientist straightened his glasses, furiously typing code on the holographic keyboard. He hadn't touched the alarm. Sweat beaded his brow, and his eyes darted along the code, betraying his panic and horror. The rows and rows of computing hardware lining the room in front of him rumbled to lif

Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you? It was our six month anniversary, and we were dining under the willow trees. You said you didn't want commitment when we first started dating, but DAMN it felt right saying those three words. I remember your expression; tenderness and affection etched upon your features. You didn't return my confession, but I didn't care. Maybe I should have cared. Do you remember when you first told me you loved me? It was three months after that night. You were helping me paint an accent wall in my new apartment, a deep blue, not too dark, but not too light either. It almost matched your eyes. You ha

The saying goes that the best ship is a friendship, the type that never sinks. But in reality Friendships are not unsinkable, and are rather more like the Titanic. I worry about that between you and I. I see ruin written in the seams between us. One iceberg, and our ship could sink. I don't want that to happen. I want more moments. More little smiles, more laughter, more of this. My mind tells me to be wary, tells me to appreciate what I have, to not get greedy. It yells at me to keep an eye out for icebergs. My heart demands otherwise. It wants more. It wants more of the good times. It wants me to damn the warnings and go full speed ahea

Do not let people hope. Let people be angry, let them be happy, let them be ignorant, let them be knowledgeable, but do not let them hope. For hope is what gives arms to their anger, their ignorance, or their knowledge. Let them be violent, let them be peaceful. But do not let them hope. If mankind does not hope, old issues will linger and suffocate them. If mankind does not hope, change is stifled and the status quo will survive. Do not let hope take root. For hope is a contagious disease, easily spread and hard to kill. If hope gains a foothold, all can be undone. Above all, do not like mankind hope! For hope is the fuel of change, and c

How do I decide on whom to be? Others say to follow what one’s self says, But what do I do when it is actually confused on what to say? I suppose that I would like to be a good great man. Unfortunately, as the late Lord Acton Hughes said, “Good men are rarely Great men.” So now I must decide, To throw my lot in with the Caesars and Alexanders, Or to strive to be good, And melt into the mist of history.