A Simpsons Fanfic
Bart Simpson stared aimlessly at the padded walls of his cell.
"You're safe, he can't hurt you. You're safe, he can't hurt you" the thirteen year old repeated over and over again.
Sideshow Bob
The enemy that Bart had feared for three years had now somehow gotten in his head.
"Well I must say this is a nice turn of events, I'm free as a bird, and you're the one in a straightjacket" the wild haired man teased.
"Shut up! You're not really here!" Bart yelled.
"Seeing things again Mr. Simpson?" the young nurse asked as she walked into his cell.
"It's him again" the boy whispered.
"Bart, Sideshow Bob can't hurt you, he di
You are not a misunderstood beauty like Elsa, a Disney Queen.
No,
You are something else.
You’re poison
Killing everyone around you
Digging in deeper when we don’t do what you want
You lie, and cheat, and guilt me
Oh how you guilt me
How you hurt me
What did I ever do to you?
It’s not fair
I love you
And you’re killing me
So like a cancer, I’m cutting you out of me
I’ve bleed out enough poison to still live
But tell me,
Am I still your child?
Every day is a
struggle to be yourself...
Every cloud puts a
strain on your mental health...
You stand upon a
pile of shrinking wealth.
But you don't have to fall
into a dry summer-
the harshest of winters
are why we enjoy Spring.
Maybe pain means more
than pointless consequence...
Maybe loss is more
than a coincidence...
You wonder if more
hope lies in providence.
And you don't have to fall
into a lack of faith-
the purest peaceful place
is the eye of a storm.
You were told that these
clouds have silver linings...
You were told that these
shadows define lightings...
You expect some truth
in all of your findings.
So you don't have
It's there and It's not.
Just out of reach.
Just beneath the surface.
The inspiration you seek.
Your reason for writing.
The passion in your art.
This passion that you need,
somewhere in your heart.
But it's hiding,
evading your touch.
How can you write
Without inspiration, your crutch?
You set down the pencil,
take a deep breath.
Don't strain your sanity.
It's all you have left.
The inspiration will come.
Be patient and see.
It may take a while,
but it will soon be free.
Spring is a time
Where the flowers are all in bloom
When baby animals start to take their first tiny steps
And the birds twitter and sing in tune.
Spring is a time
When the rain starts poring down
And I'm stuck indoors until it clears
So then I can jump spontaneously in puddles.
This bandage on my arm...
Is the key to my future...
Each time I flex my fingers...
The friction is saying "Let me out!
I'm done being confined in this thing!"
But... no.
It's not only saying that.
The skin over the forearm
Is screaming for a break.
Oh how it ITCHES!
I can't move it too much
Otherwise the stitches will stretch.
Wait for tomorrow
Hold out for tomorrow
Then you'll get your big break.
No more tan hospital tape
No more white bandage
No more fluffy medical gauze
Till that day comes, endure it
The blood inside your blue veins
Can only pump faster if you manipulate the limb.
So focus on today.
Cause it's the last I'll see of y
I guess i really do love you.
Its a hard habit to break,
Every thought I have,
you're the form they take.
I can't get you out of my mind
nor your voice outta my head.
And living this life without you
has been just existing: almost dead.
One day I will get over you.
One day these thoughts will fade,
but until such a time should come,
I'll dig through this with my heart and spade.
The truth is that I miss you
and want to see your face.
Just knowing I'll lose this time with you
leaves my heartbeat all off pace.
Now you've left my side
and taken my heart with you
and left me here with
not a clue what I should do.
Don't take me f
Unheard of and undefined by lupus-astra, literature
Literature
Unheard of and undefined
Sometimes,
I have this sudden impulse to
bite off my tongue.
It wasn't made for
pretty words and kept promises
in the first place.
Back to back and
straight on til daybreak,
our soliloquy seems never ending.
You laugh,
I wince;
I whisper,
you interrogate.
When was the last time
you remembered to cry for all the broken hearts
that were not your own?