OneMillionVoices

The silence is colder than i recall, Whispering icy things and chilling me to the core. The dark consumes the outside world, But i am blinded by the fluorescents in my cage. The smell of clean is barely there, I cannot allow myself to care Or wish for a waterfall. Time is never on my side, I either chase or run from it; Its never the friend i need it to be. When the sun kisses the horizon, And it begins to warm the morning, Will the silence still be cold or will it burn my ears? Will the orange skies caress my eyes, Or will it continue to white my mind? And if the room is filled with souls Will the clean linger as much as my thoughts? Time

you know, this might sound crazy, but i wish i could ink you on my skin. Not your name, not your image, but simply... YOU. The way you're written in my mind so that every thought is you the way you fill my heart so that every beat is you the way you dance in my lungs so that every exhale is a shaky ballet called "Love". thats the way i want you inked on my skin... beautiful and permanent

Port Heath in the middle of summer is not the ideal place to be. The ground gets dry and the air gets dryer - the only moisture is the constant stickiness of perspiration. The three below-average-sized lakes are a social hotspot - no pun intended - in the summer, especially during the school vacations when the kids seemed to be in the water twenty-four-seven. The basic necessities in Port Heath include ice, water, and multiple desk or ceiling fans. This was not what Mark Grennish had anticipated upon his relocation to the town. Within his first day working at Port Heath Police Department he must have lost close to 10 kgs from perspiration alo

Mr Franklin arrived at twelve thirty sharp. He wore a black suit that looked brand new and shoes so shiny that John could see his reflection in them if he tried. He wore no wristwatch or accessory of any kind. His hair was recently combed – John could see comb lined through the man’s short dark hair – so that not a single strand was out of place. Mr Franklin refused to sit and instead remained standing while they spoke. He told Sherlock the reason for his visit and Sherlock frowned. John spoke for him. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you are here, Mr Franklin? Your car tires keep being deflated?” &ldq

Latibule: A hiding place; Somewhere no one could find you. A place if safety and comfort. * * * * John sat on the edge of his bed and peered sleepily out the window. The birds sung from the rooftops of London, hardly heard over the bustle of early-risers already on their way to work. John though it crazy now to think that he had once been an early riser – when he had been in the army their mornings were forced and proper, cold, unfriendly even for him in his position of army doctor. He was somewhat grateful of the routine back then, he realized. It had been one unchanging thing in his day that he didn’t have to worry about. Sinc

Alex was officially the most oblivious person on the face of the earth. Jack could see it, Rian could see it, and so could Zack. Everyone except Alex saw it. And even when they tried to convince him that the short kid, two years ahead of them, liked him, Alex remained oblivious. Its not that Alex didn't notice Frank, or didn't know who he was, either. Frank was incredible hard to miss, even though he was a short shit - he was almost as hyper as Jack and just the fact that you could still spot him in a crowd even with his lack of height said a lot about the kid. He was also hard not to notice because he was constantly there, teasing Alex and