He was left behind, desperately trying to catch up with a hope that had already faded. He knew it was almost an impossible task, but he had to try. If he did not, then he would be truly lost for good.
Everything started tilting to the left. Everything went hazy. I felt the force of my body mid air as it toppled over. All strength and fight left me. I closed my eyes to the darkness. The pain had recessed, that torturing ache faded as if it never was. Peace. Sleep. Rest.
I quickly look to the left and then the right before crossing the street. The tiny hand of Oliver nestled safely in my own we dash across the black pavement. Next to the familiar silver chain link fence I bed down and remind him to be careful at the playground and I stand to unlatch the gate.
Left? It’s not right. But it’s not wrong? It’s just left. The other way. Still not the wrong way. People who are left handed are considered wrong but they’re not. They’re just left. Not right though. I don’t know.
She left. Without a word. Without a look. She left. And it was final and over. And he wondered what he did. He wondered what he could’ve done. He looked at his clothes lying on the floor and about the times she had nagged him about them. Maybe he could’ve been just a little it better.
you turned away,
and left me bleeding in the dark,
I screamed for you…
but you never looked back.
crimson dripping down my skin,
and you never said a single thing.
I begged for help,
I pled,
I cried…
and you did nothing but leave me alone to die.
so why should I come back to you?
why should I try again?
joy is nothing more than an illusion…
and hope brings nothing more than pain.
i’m so tired,
so sick of this disease.
won’t someone see me hurting?
won’t someone hold me, please?
i’m so done trying,
done wearing this mask…
but still I can’t stop,
can’t find my way back.
can’t end this twisted game,
can’t stop the aching pain,
so I paint on a smile…
and I continue to play.
for the dark is my comfort,
my solace,
my king.
and someday he’ll take me
and I will be queen.
I will reign in the nighttime,
eyes covered in ice,
and all those who see me,
will tremble in fright!
all those who cut me,
who killed me,
who laughed…
revenge will be mine,
and I will drench them in black.
I will dance in their blood,
and paint my arms red,
and watch in laughter,
as the whole fucking world burns!
you’ll regret the day that you left me alone,
you’ll rue when you turned,
left me on my own…
for judgement is coming…
and it’s coming for you,
and there’s no escaping what I plan to do…
They left me there to rot. I had to stay by myself before but this time was worse. I had always thought they would stay with me until I asked them to leave but they left when I needed them most. I wandered in the dark alleys until I found even the slightest sort of light. But the light I saw was what led me to my death, in the end.
Left? The left side of the field? The left side of the screen? Define left by your standards. It may be rather different than mine. To my left I see pencils, paper, and another computer. Your left may contain mountains, a stream, a flower ready to bloom. Perspective. The left deems perspective.
only one in ten of us it is said. if there are three of us in a room and we all are, is that significant? how gauche, sinister and the rest. me with graphite smeared on the side of my hand. shiny, noticeable, brilliant in my own way….
it seems like the longer i live the more it all leaks out through my pores. to explode of overpotency, or to fade away in lukewarm peace? you tell me to stay, stay, but here i am dead and we’re all smiles. don’t you have anything to say? i’m slapped up trash and oozing shit juice. how can you even recognize me like this? yeah, i stayed. but think of me blanketing the earth, ghosting over your sheets like the leftover warmth of a loved body, dissipating into the winter morning air before you can even remember to remember me. intimate and yet so far away; empty, because i am stretched thin over and out, everywhere and nowhere and impossible to grasp, brimming echoes and fog and Sunshine, all for you. think of me like this, and tell me; have i been a good girl?
Whether to go left or right was an option I wasn’t prepared to take. Past experience has taught me that it is better to play it safe in those kind of circumstances.
I left my home early in the morning for going to office and since then I am travelling but have not reached office. I don’t know what has happened but today isn’t very good day for me to reach office.
“Iif you go that way, you are never going to find your way out.”
“Excuse me?” The woman snapped, turning around and glaring at the man behind her.
“You are going the wrong way, you’re meant to turn left. That corridor just leads to the roof.” He informed her, undeterred by her hostile attitude.
“Well maybe that is where I want to go.” She huffed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat and turning away from him carrying on down the corridor.
My left foot. My left hand is weaker than my right hand. We drive in the left lane in the Uk – and a few other places. I used to make meals with left overs!
she left him there. without understanding. without hope. without care. she was only gone. gone to who knows where. he was left alone to put together the events that had just transpired; “where am I to go?”
He sat there quietly in the darkness, listening to the feint hum of the air conditioner unit outside of his apartment. He stared back and forth between the t.v. and wall blankly. His head had been rushing with thoughts all day and he was finally home to relax or act on them. He felt around numbly for his revolver. He loaded one shot into the chamber and spun it. He pointed the gun at his head with a smile. Quickly, he pulled the trigger four times in quick succession.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Just one more left.” He stared at the wall nervously then quickly shut his eyes tight.
Click.
After a brief silence, he sighed partially from relief and part disappointment. He set the gun down on the table and stared at it.
“The odds…”
Thinking nothing more on it, he grabbed the t.v. remote off the table and turned the volume up, except no sound came out. Confused, he walked closer to the t.v. to see if something was wrong with it. Nothing.
He started to feel a little dizzy and fell against the wall. Looking at the ground to center himself, he noticed these small dots leading towards the couch. He flipped the light switch on to get a better look. Crimson little drops stained his hardwood floor. Blood?
He picked the gun back up and looked into the chamber. Nothing was left. He stared down the chamber. Empty as well. He tossed the gun back on to the table even more perplexed. He grabbed the t.v. remote and turned it off. Sitting in complete silence he began to feel unnerved. It was too quiet. He tried to listen for the air conditioning units hum and found he could not hear it. Then he snapped his fingers. Nothing. The dizziness was turning into a massive headache as he started to feel panicky. He slowly moved his fingers from his neck to his ears. He felt moisture instantly and pulled his hands in front of him quickly. Red.
He looked at the droplets on the floor and how the closer to the couch, the larger they were before he saw it. A pool at his feet next to a stained couch, but more noticeably, the wall covered with part of his brain and a splatter of blood. It was almost like some grotesque painting. He marveled at what he was looking at before his eyes started to close. Inch by inch. Then there was darkness. And all that was left were the sounds of dripping blood, like a drain pipe dripping water onto cement.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
There’s only one toaster left. How has fate brought me to this moment where there is precisely one toaster designated for me? I am blessed with crispy bliss.
I left the floor with little doubt that the job was mine. I kept thinking that the interview had gone amazingly, but their was that small voice in the back of my head screaming that something was wrong. Maybe, if I thought the job was mine, it was the possibility that I should not take the job for fear of losing my moral character.
The maze of corridors seemed to go in forever, her rights bleeding into her lefts and vice versa until the only thing she was sure of was that she was, in fact, hopelessly lost.
Geneva left her mother, a lone figure, shivering on the platform. The gloomy slice of concrete was thick with ice and her mother pulled the blanket Geneva had left her up around her head to stop her ears from freezing. It was the last time Geneva would see her mother and as you would expect she was heavy with sadness, but she also felt relief; that is was over. There was nothing left that could save her.
I was left behind. My mother took my sister on vacation and left me behind. Left me with my dad. Why didn’t she take me too? Why wasn’t I chosen? Because she liked my sister better.
Left in the house alone
Blackness to overcome the empty
no sound is heard now
just me breathing in the stale air
the windows are closed and shuttered
keeping me within this parochial prison
why did she have to leave me?
“First my left foot, then my right foot right behind it…” not sure if that’s how the lyrics go or if it’s right foot before left foot. Either way, that’s what pops to mind first.
To the left of me sat the love of my life. His eyes sparkled blue and hair ablaze in crimson red. God, this morning I was a nobody. Now I’m a nobody who’s in love.
He left when I was only 5 years old, and I didn’t see him again until I was 30. It was my wedding day, and I hadn’t even invited him, though I knew I could have reached him through my grandpa. They were still in touch, of course, but I hadn’t invited my grandpa, either, lest he tell my dad what was up.
So when he walked into the room during the reception, I was surprised, but not entirely unhappy, because I’d only not invited him because my mom said she wouldn’t come if there was any chance he’d be there.
left
leaving
someone leaves you
they left you alone
quitting
forgetting
who cares
no one will no
because they left you alone
people
they always leave
leave you to die
and never seem to care
they always leave
they ALWAYS leave.
ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS
we had to go
or rather it was demanded by our bodies, screaming.
i wish we could’ve left our hearts there on the hearth.
instead we’re sent off to fight another battle.
i am often confused about where my home is.
Left, left, right, right, another left… I was left behind, struggling to follow the vague directions left by my smart phone wielding companions. No map in my glove box, and no app on my phone. We were traversing signal-less territory, and I was completely lost. Their cars had left trails of dust hours before, and I had been relying on a simple list of directions. But one too many lefts, and I was left behind.
When nothing is going right, go left. Things in life aren’t meant to be clean and perfect and organized. Life is messy and when life gives knocks you down, get back up and politely say ,”you hit like a bitch.” and try a new path. It is all trial and error in this crazy journey on the road to who we are regardless of whatever anyone else thinks or feels…
It’s off to the side a direction all it’s own. I’m more radical than the right and conxervative I’m not. I progeress towards what I believe and that is change for the better. I’m left because it’s the only direction that makes sense to me.
“Turn left. Just turn left. Come on now, it’s not that hard to do and you know it! There you go… that’s it! If you just turn left nothing bad will happen to you. Just do as I say.”
The whole time I listened to the man telling me to go left all I could think was that I wished I had never picked up the lunatic who now help a gun to my head…
I was born a lefty and have always been. Being left-handed has often made me an anomaly in other people’s eyes. People always get that surprised look when they see me writing with my left-hand. I used to not like my handedness.
He left her scarf on the table, in a place she would easily find it. He wanted her to know that he had found it, and had found her, even after all these years. He wanted her to know he had been here, and could come back any time. He wanted her to know that he was not “out of her life”, and never would be. No matter how much she tried, no matter how far she ran, no matter how well she hid, he would always find her. He would never let her go.
He was left behind, desperately trying to catch up with a hope that had already faded. He knew it was almost an impossible task, but he had to try. If he did not, then he would be truly lost for good.
Everything started tilting to the left. Everything went hazy. I felt the force of my body mid air as it toppled over. All strength and fight left me. I closed my eyes to the darkness. The pain had recessed, that torturing ache faded as if it never was. Peace. Sleep. Rest.
I quickly look to the left and then the right before crossing the street. The tiny hand of Oliver nestled safely in my own we dash across the black pavement. Next to the familiar silver chain link fence I bed down and remind him to be careful at the playground and I stand to unlatch the gate.
Left? It’s not right. But it’s not wrong? It’s just left. The other way. Still not the wrong way. People who are left handed are considered wrong but they’re not. They’re just left. Not right though. I don’t know.
She left. Without a word. Without a look. She left. And it was final and over. And he wondered what he did. He wondered what he could’ve done. He looked at his clothes lying on the floor and about the times she had nagged him about them. Maybe he could’ve been just a little it better.
Feet crammed in the wrong shows. Five years old and clueless. Why should it matter which foot my shoe is on?
If you want to reach the nearest drug store please turn left on Mosadak Street.
The left side brain is responsible for logical processes
you turned away,
and left me bleeding in the dark,
I screamed for you…
but you never looked back.
crimson dripping down my skin,
and you never said a single thing.
I begged for help,
I pled,
I cried…
and you did nothing but leave me alone to die.
so why should I come back to you?
why should I try again?
joy is nothing more than an illusion…
and hope brings nothing more than pain.
i’m so tired,
so sick of this disease.
won’t someone see me hurting?
won’t someone hold me, please?
i’m so done trying,
done wearing this mask…
but still I can’t stop,
can’t find my way back.
can’t end this twisted game,
can’t stop the aching pain,
so I paint on a smile…
and I continue to play.
for the dark is my comfort,
my solace,
my king.
and someday he’ll take me
and I will be queen.
I will reign in the nighttime,
eyes covered in ice,
and all those who see me,
will tremble in fright!
all those who cut me,
who killed me,
who laughed…
revenge will be mine,
and I will drench them in black.
I will dance in their blood,
and paint my arms red,
and watch in laughter,
as the whole fucking world burns!
you’ll regret the day that you left me alone,
you’ll rue when you turned,
left me on my own…
for judgement is coming…
and it’s coming for you,
and there’s no escaping what I plan to do…
They left me there to rot. I had to stay by myself before but this time was worse. I had always thought they would stay with me until I asked them to leave but they left when I needed them most. I wandered in the dark alleys until I found even the slightest sort of light. But the light I saw was what led me to my death, in the end.
Left? The left side of the field? The left side of the screen? Define left by your standards. It may be rather different than mine. To my left I see pencils, paper, and another computer. Your left may contain mountains, a stream, a flower ready to bloom. Perspective. The left deems perspective.
I read the Left Behind series and enjoyed it so much. I told my friends to read it too.
only one in ten of us it is said. if there are three of us in a room and we all are, is that significant? how gauche, sinister and the rest. me with graphite smeared on the side of my hand. shiny, noticeable, brilliant in my own way….
it seems like the longer i live the more it all leaks out through my pores. to explode of overpotency, or to fade away in lukewarm peace? you tell me to stay, stay, but here i am dead and we’re all smiles. don’t you have anything to say? i’m slapped up trash and oozing shit juice. how can you even recognize me like this? yeah, i stayed. but think of me blanketing the earth, ghosting over your sheets like the leftover warmth of a loved body, dissipating into the winter morning air before you can even remember to remember me. intimate and yet so far away; empty, because i am stretched thin over and out, everywhere and nowhere and impossible to grasp, brimming echoes and fog and Sunshine, all for you. think of me like this, and tell me; have i been a good girl?
I left the place with no thought in my mind. But when I reached home, I realized I have really left something.
Whether to go left or right was an option I wasn’t prepared to take. Past experience has taught me that it is better to play it safe in those kind of circumstances.
I left my home early in the morning for going to office and since then I am travelling but have not reached office. I don’t know what has happened but today isn’t very good day for me to reach office.
“Iif you go that way, you are never going to find your way out.”
“Excuse me?” The woman snapped, turning around and glaring at the man behind her.
“You are going the wrong way, you’re meant to turn left. That corridor just leads to the roof.” He informed her, undeterred by her hostile attitude.
“Well maybe that is where I want to go.” She huffed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat and turning away from him carrying on down the corridor.
My left foot. My left hand is weaker than my right hand. We drive in the left lane in the Uk – and a few other places. I used to make meals with left overs!
she left him there. without understanding. without hope. without care. she was only gone. gone to who knows where. he was left alone to put together the events that had just transpired; “where am I to go?”
He sat there quietly in the darkness, listening to the feint hum of the air conditioner unit outside of his apartment. He stared back and forth between the t.v. and wall blankly. His head had been rushing with thoughts all day and he was finally home to relax or act on them. He felt around numbly for his revolver. He loaded one shot into the chamber and spun it. He pointed the gun at his head with a smile. Quickly, he pulled the trigger four times in quick succession.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Just one more left.” He stared at the wall nervously then quickly shut his eyes tight.
Click.
After a brief silence, he sighed partially from relief and part disappointment. He set the gun down on the table and stared at it.
“The odds…”
Thinking nothing more on it, he grabbed the t.v. remote off the table and turned the volume up, except no sound came out. Confused, he walked closer to the t.v. to see if something was wrong with it. Nothing.
He started to feel a little dizzy and fell against the wall. Looking at the ground to center himself, he noticed these small dots leading towards the couch. He flipped the light switch on to get a better look. Crimson little drops stained his hardwood floor. Blood?
He picked the gun back up and looked into the chamber. Nothing was left. He stared down the chamber. Empty as well. He tossed the gun back on to the table even more perplexed. He grabbed the t.v. remote and turned it off. Sitting in complete silence he began to feel unnerved. It was too quiet. He tried to listen for the air conditioning units hum and found he could not hear it. Then he snapped his fingers. Nothing. The dizziness was turning into a massive headache as he started to feel panicky. He slowly moved his fingers from his neck to his ears. He felt moisture instantly and pulled his hands in front of him quickly. Red.
He looked at the droplets on the floor and how the closer to the couch, the larger they were before he saw it. A pool at his feet next to a stained couch, but more noticeably, the wall covered with part of his brain and a splatter of blood. It was almost like some grotesque painting. He marveled at what he was looking at before his eyes started to close. Inch by inch. Then there was darkness. And all that was left were the sounds of dripping blood, like a drain pipe dripping water onto cement.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
There’s only one toaster left. How has fate brought me to this moment where there is precisely one toaster designated for me? I am blessed with crispy bliss.
Hand chance brain side corner door person step line cat flat apartment ground
I left the floor with little doubt that the job was mine. I kept thinking that the interview had gone amazingly, but their was that small voice in the back of my head screaming that something was wrong. Maybe, if I thought the job was mine, it was the possibility that I should not take the job for fear of losing my moral character.
The maze of corridors seemed to go in forever, her rights bleeding into her lefts and vice versa until the only thing she was sure of was that she was, in fact, hopelessly lost.
He kissed me.
And I never looked away.
He loved me.
And I never looked back.
He left me.
And I never looked at another.
Geneva left her mother, a lone figure, shivering on the platform. The gloomy slice of concrete was thick with ice and her mother pulled the blanket Geneva had left her up around her head to stop her ears from freezing. It was the last time Geneva would see her mother and as you would expect she was heavy with sadness, but she also felt relief; that is was over. There was nothing left that could save her.
I was left behind. My mother took my sister on vacation and left me behind. Left me with my dad. Why didn’t she take me too? Why wasn’t I chosen? Because she liked my sister better.
Left in the house alone
Blackness to overcome the empty
no sound is heard now
just me breathing in the stale air
the windows are closed and shuttered
keeping me within this parochial prison
why did she have to leave me?
“First my left foot, then my right foot right behind it…” not sure if that’s how the lyrics go or if it’s right foot before left foot. Either way, that’s what pops to mind first.
To the left of me sat the love of my life. His eyes sparkled blue and hair ablaze in crimson red. God, this morning I was a nobody. Now I’m a nobody who’s in love.
He left when I was only 5 years old, and I didn’t see him again until I was 30. It was my wedding day, and I hadn’t even invited him, though I knew I could have reached him through my grandpa. They were still in touch, of course, but I hadn’t invited my grandpa, either, lest he tell my dad what was up.
So when he walked into the room during the reception, I was surprised, but not entirely unhappy, because I’d only not invited him because my mom said she wouldn’t come if there was any chance he’d be there.
left
leaving
someone leaves you
they left you alone
quitting
forgetting
who cares
no one will no
because they left you alone
people
they always leave
leave you to die
and never seem to care
they always leave
they ALWAYS leave.
ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS
we had to go
or rather it was demanded by our bodies, screaming.
i wish we could’ve left our hearts there on the hearth.
instead we’re sent off to fight another battle.
i am often confused about where my home is.
Left, left, right, right, another left… I was left behind, struggling to follow the vague directions left by my smart phone wielding companions. No map in my glove box, and no app on my phone. We were traversing signal-less territory, and I was completely lost. Their cars had left trails of dust hours before, and I had been relying on a simple list of directions. But one too many lefts, and I was left behind.
When nothing is going right, go left. Things in life aren’t meant to be clean and perfect and organized. Life is messy and when life gives knocks you down, get back up and politely say ,”you hit like a bitch.” and try a new path. It is all trial and error in this crazy journey on the road to who we are regardless of whatever anyone else thinks or feels…
It’s off to the side a direction all it’s own. I’m more radical than the right and conxervative I’m not. I progeress towards what I believe and that is change for the better. I’m left because it’s the only direction that makes sense to me.
“Turn left. Just turn left. Come on now, it’s not that hard to do and you know it! There you go… that’s it! If you just turn left nothing bad will happen to you. Just do as I say.”
The whole time I listened to the man telling me to go left all I could think was that I wished I had never picked up the lunatic who now help a gun to my head…
I was born a lefty and have always been. Being left-handed has often made me an anomaly in other people’s eyes. People always get that surprised look when they see me writing with my left-hand. I used to not like my handedness.
He left her scarf on the table, in a place she would easily find it. He wanted her to know that he had found it, and had found her, even after all these years. He wanted her to know he had been here, and could come back any time. He wanted her to know that he was not “out of her life”, and never would be. No matter how much she tried, no matter how far she ran, no matter how well she hid, he would always find her. He would never let her go.