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Literature Text
Nobody likes people like me,
those people they don't understand.
The people who sit by a wall,
but stick out like a boulder in sand.
Nobody likes people like me,
the ones whose thoughts are deep.
I guess we scare them a little
with the way we act and think.
Long ago I learned
to paint masks on my small shell.
They hid the things I really knew
and the things I really felt.
Now I mirror back at people
the things they want to see.
But inside I am longing
to rid these masks of me.
Nobody likes people like me,
even though I really try
to make everyone happy
while I slowly die inside.
Nobody likes people like me,
and I'm starting to cave in.
Exhausted of these judgments
and battles from within.
Will anyone really listen?
Or really understand
the things that I say here?
Does anybody even care?
Nobody likes people like me,
and people like me don't know
that there are others out there,
other people to help them show.
Nobody likes people like me,
but I think if we could find
another who's just like us,
perhaps we'd change our mind.
A call to arms!
A battle cry!
Speak up if you can see
a little of yourself
reflected back in me.
Literature
Setup - John Kennex X Reader (Part 1)
"That should do it," you said, snapping Dorian's chest plate back in place. "Try not to take any more bullets until Rudy gets back, okay?" You smiled, "He's a little bit better at this than I am."
Dorian smiled back at you, "I'll do my best."
"When will Rudy be back?" John asked, checking his phone.
"Next Wednesday," You responded, carrying your tools back to the workbench where you'd temporarily set up shop. "I guess he just couldn't tear himself away from the butterbots."
Kennex looked at you as if you'd been speaking Greek, "The what?"
You shrugged, smiling sheepishly, "Robotic butterflies."
Rudy had been away at a Mechanical Technicians
Literature
The Transporter- Chapter 2- 05.27.25
May 27, 1925.
"Detective Wagner, what brings you in here so late?" My boss, Mr. Kinney, demanded of me as I rushed into the office. Galloping as quick as I could down the streets in order to get here on time was one way to get me all red and sweaty, it was definitely another when three sets of piercing eyes were burning into you as you appear as a complete mess before them.
"My apologies sir. My alarm clock was a bit dysfunctional this morning." I replied to the man as I took a seat next to the gentleman on my left.
"Well then, I shall not see anymore of this type of behavior for now on, this is your first week here after all." He explaine
Literature
Burn After Reading
Sherlock/John PG-13 (T)
Warning: Post-Reichenbach
Word count: 908
Plot: Two years after the fall Sherlock has to go back to Baker Street to fetch a very important book. John has gone downstairs to talk to Mrs. Hudson and left his laptop on, a webpage open. The Personal Blog of Dr. John Watson...
Outside John Watson's Baker Street flat the mist lay thick and impenetrable. John sat updating his blog for the fourth time that week and it was unlikely to be the last.
Moving to the country for a few weeks. Mycroft has an acquaintance I will be staying with, sadly can't remember her name. I can't bear to be one more day in London. Everywhere I
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I wrote this poem a couple years ago, but it still really reflects how I feel to this day.
It's really lonely, being different. Maybe one day we'll all find someone who's right for us, and we won't be lonely anymore.
© 2014 - 2024 Kiliann
Comments5
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Why were you so sad, dear heart? D: You've written a lovely poem. I must share it. O>O After all, it is your birthday. 