Comments Posted By Moira
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 103 Comments
The raven sat perched on the windowsill as a grave reminder of what happened previously that day. Miss Clarabelle, perched like the bird on a hanging basket chair, held close a book, her eyes inseparable from the gloriously yellow pages of a lovely Voltaire book. She had no idea what had gone on just down the street that day which would immensely affect her in days to come.
At the beginning of our story…
Roxanne the curious mother of three even more curious children was just about ending her rather long day when her husband, Grant Boulevarde ran his new motorcycle into the beautifully painted vibrant black garage. She could faintly hear the scurrying feet of a child down the staircase, down the hall, and into the garage. The small voice of Annora Boulevarde echoed through the comfortably-sized house, “Father, can you read me a story tonight?”
“I would be honored to participate in that splendored activity!” he quietly, but echoingly replied.
The footsteps of two now retreated back up the staircase in to a rather unfitting room for a young girl such as Annora. In the room were pots and pans of all sorts and not a toy in sight accept for an unattractive and somewhat satanic looking stuffed bunny rabbit, laid on the dark pillows of her bed. Along with those seemingly misplaced attributes of the room, the only colors in the room other than charcoal black were grey, cream, and a once white floor. Grant shuffled around noisily with the bedding while Annora even more noisily stacked her pans next to the door. Then at last Annora ran to her bed and jumped in with a loud screeching sound from the springs of her rusty, old bed.
Grant sat on the end of her bed, as she lovingly held onto her frightening excuse of a child’s stuffed animal. Opened to a very dusty page, Grant held a book which will eventually be a bit of an important factor of our story.
He began to read, ” Once there was a little girl that lived in a little house in a little town with her little family. Her town was ordinary as was her drab house. But her family was anything but ordinary and they were more than extraordinary, they were
» Posted By Moira On 07.14.2013 @ 8:31 pm
His skin. As warm and dark and beautiful as bronze. So warm when you first see it but colder than the deepest, darkest ice when you realize how out of reach it truly is. But his skin, the color of his skin, is so warm and so mesmerizing and I’ll continue dreaming that it will one day reflect how his heart is as well.
» Posted By Moira On 03.29.2013 @ 1:57 am
the only visitors that come to my house are workers. my house looks scary and big from the outside. inside it is designed royally and with taste. it looks as if no one lives here because our housekeeper keeps it so neat. Although we use the blankets and chairs daily they are always neatly folded and the chairs fluffed.
» Posted By Moira On 01.28.2013 @ 4:02 pm
Ideas come at me all the time but I never what to do with them. Concepts fly around in my head but they’re so vague and ethereal that they never stay put long enough for me to give them shape and form. My head is full of wisps of smoke and trails of dust. Glitter and diamonds and everything sparkling, I can see it but it’s out of my reach.
» Posted By Moira On 08.12.2012 @ 12:20 pm
I had an epiphany today. I thought about it as you ran away. I’d hate to tell you to stay. So just run, run away.
» Posted By Moira On 11.01.2011 @ 5:04 pm
Passionate. Infinite. The two collide. For when there is passion it rarely lasts.
» Posted By Moira On 11.01.2011 @ 8:18 am
Missed refers to reflecting on something that one had lost in a fond manner, as if they want it back. For example, one can miss and object, miss being with a person, miss a feeling, the list goes on and on. It is generally associated with love.
» Posted By Moira On 08.19.2011 @ 7:54 pm
Playstation, altijd ruzie. Nu mag ik, nee ik! Afpakken van elkaar, dus wel zo handig als je er 2 hebt. Lachen met je ouders, die geen idee hebben waar ze mee bezig zijn. Welk knopje nu!? Links recht, is dit gas?!
» Posted By moira On 05.11.2011 @ 8:42 am
I am obsolete
By a better
» Posted By Moira On 04.12.2011 @ 3:07 pm
They say they have a “connection with god”. They say I’m missing out but all I see is freedom for me and imprisonment for them. So, I think I’ll take my detached life joyfully.
» Posted By Moira On 04.07.2011 @ 9:57 am
over spoken about. too much to do with money and power not enough to do with happiness. why can’t people just be happy with where they are in life why does success have to deal with going to school and making money. enough with money it sucks the life out of everyone
» Posted By Moira On 04.04.2011 @ 11:46 am
My plans. They’re so clear. Graduate. Go to college. Get married. I even know what college and who will be my husband. But….. They’re not my plans. They’re a prediction. I’d rather step in front of a speeding- but I’m not going to. Right…?
» Posted By Moira On 04.03.2011 @ 2:53 pm
It’s a card game to you. Just a stack of cards. Oh, please, take me seriously. Because I am serious that I love you. Love is not just a card game.
» Posted By Moira On 02.19.2011 @ 3:37 pm
In this lonely place I feel there is something missing. Dark, damp, desperate. I see a flare in the distance. I walk towards the sudden burst of light and there, your face appears and I’m no longer in hell.
» Posted By Moira On 02.16.2011 @ 8:21 am
a wrench is something that you use to open something from a door or something like that it has two sides to its head. it can pry anything out of a sturdy surface if you need to get it out. you can do so much with it all of the time and there is never one around when you need one. usually some neighbor has one
» Posted By Moira On 02.03.2011 @ 5:24 pm
I don’t want to be reminded of the warmth I can’t have.
I don’t want you to tell me of the warmth, the tender warmth! Why is it not here?
» Posted By Moira On 01.14.2011 @ 8:53 am
That certain phrase in culture, the one that makes the flowers bloom and the butterflies return to your stomach. What makes those three words so important? Who decided that the concept of “love” would even exist? Maybe I think too much about these things as I sit, allowing Jack White to turn me into complacent putty with his voice. But how can I be human without asking questions and wondering the most important thing of all; why.
» Posted By Moira On 01.04.2011 @ 1:18 pm
I could reject this little one. Even though I didn’t feel I was ready for it. Maybe it’s selfish but I loved this small being with all of my heart and I wanted to cherish and coddle and take care of it, no matter the consequences.
» Posted By Moira On 12.22.2010 @ 11:08 am
A simple feathered boa, pink with blue mixed in. I saw you standing there, I knew I’d never win. Muscled shoulders, abs of steal, yet there you were, with beads held high. I thought we had a future, but it was all a game. You love another man, but I love you all the same.
» Posted By Moira On 12.18.2010 @ 10:01 am
“Immense in it’s intensity.”
» Posted By Moira On 12.11.2010 @ 10:35 am
My nails used to be so beautiful, when the used to grow. Now nothing grows. Am I dead? I don’t remember anymore. I thought I was alive until he couldn’t see me. Now I’m lost.
» Posted By Moira On 12.05.2010 @ 10:05 am
“Chubby bunny!” She screamed as melted marshmallow bits flew out of her mouth. We all laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe and for once, I was happy. Even though I was next in line to shove as many marshmallows as I could fit in my mouth while saying “Chubby bunny” after every one. The first marshmallow was sweet and softer than a pillow and I realized how wonderful being a teenager was… “Chubby bunny”
» Posted By Moira On 12.03.2010 @ 9:06 am
That single blond spike in his hair.. It drove me crazy. I wanted to push him against the wall. But that spike kept us apart. We were from different worlds and I wasn’t sure I wanted to step into his excitement-filled existence.
» Posted By Moira On 11.30.2010 @ 8:04 pm
One door closes, another one opens? I think that really, there was always another door there but when the door you want closes, it opens your eyes to other choices.
» Posted By Moira On 11.27.2010 @ 5:22 pm
He cared about me but he never claimed love. He said it was “affection”. What is the difference? Commitment. Respect. Understanding. When you’re stuck with affection you lack the desired feeling of reliance. You can never fully trust them, never feel like they are yours only. It’s just instant gratification that will never feel right in the end.
» Posted By Moira On 11.26.2010 @ 8:14 pm
Sometimes I yearn to be understood. Standing alone, a fern among flowers, I try to be strong but no one sees me like I am. They don’t understand moira. So I’ll build a ladder to the sky and when I rreach the top, I’m gonna fly. Soar above the flowers who will never understand.
» Posted By Moira On 11.25.2010 @ 7:52 pm
The sun gleamed on the horses as they ran. Grass parting almost before the hooves reached it. Beauty so deep and rich… Destroyed by fences and lassos. I’ll never forgive the cowboys for ruining this land.
» Posted By Moira On 11.16.2010 @ 12:50 pm
The ivy drooping from your skin just made you more beautiful. As I sat and studied your flawless stillness, your delicate details, I fell in love. Some would say congrats but I hardly can think it’s good. I don’t date someone made of stone. Even if the ivy was so perfect a touch and your features were so gentle…. I can see the destruction of my heart.
» Posted By Moira On 11.15.2010 @ 2:39 pm
You threw my heart in the junkyard and watched as it was crushed. Did I deserve it? Sometimes I think I did with the look on your face clear in my head. Love is a cruel thing and I drove the cruelty to it’s limits. But in the end, was vengeance really necessary? Because instead of a small pain, you created devastation.
» Posted By Moira On 11.14.2010 @ 3:08 pm
Back To Stats Page
“Meet me at the market.” Call me a romantic but that isn’t a catch phrase. You kinda lost me at hello but maybe you’ll catch me at goodbye. I’m holding onto something but I can’t say why. All I know for sure is that “Meet me at the market” just won’t do.
» Posted By Moira On 11.13.2010 @ 8:51 pm