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day 17she dreams of the pink swing set under a canopy
of leaves, shoes brushing colours of autumn
of mud slicked steps, rusted spoons and clear
plastic forks turned opaque from grimy hands
of lard-filled jars and broken glass,
glittering teeth hidden beneath tree shadows
of scratchy hay poking ankles and, below, sharp
metal just peeking through faded itchy yellow:
day 3you said: there is just
something about myths.
i thought there's just
something about your lips.
tell me the myths of
your sleepy hometown
and the truths of hands
held proud in public.
i'd like to learn the
stories of your skin,
the loud silence of
heartbeats and bed sheets.
you don't sit beside me in class anymoreyou look like oversized sweaters waiting for
mr darcy vapid vanilla shows up late to
class with coffee cheeks flushed from cold
(but there's more than meets the eye. i like
the flush of your cheeks and last week i
wondered if you bite lips or lick them; if
you'd change my mind on holding hands)
gone is your floral perfume soft breathing
arm brushing mine proximity pulsing legs
crossing blurry profile in peripheral
(but now i almost like it better this way. it's
easier to follow concentration as it moves
along your features and i have always been
more comfortable with distance anyway)
lost in space1
there were words once, listen:
quiet, soft, like fingers brushing over the fabric of a sweater, tickling your ear, warming, small gusts of heat that spread to your toes, a glinting eye, a curved mouth, a promise.
there were words once, listen:
hard, rough, like metal scraping over concrete, bruising, marking your arms, legs, ribs, even your spine, purple and black blossoming on dark skin, yellowing until silence, an apology.
there were words once, listen:
now there are no words, only the deafening roar of silence.
there are words now, listen:
the old stars whisper to each other. they have discovered the secret of patience, a conversation lasting the ages. a single word may take years upon years to travel and you have to know which way to send it. careful, precise, or you may tell a stranger you miss them.
you can hear the sound of these words, like fast cars on a track, restless and enduring. the faster they travel, the slower time moves, slowing rapidly until it sto
sharp nailsthere is a pattern of
veins on my right thigh
that looks like the long,
blue bones of a hand
sometimes these thin,
spindly fingers crawl
up my veins and
arteries to clasp around
my heart, tug on the
back of my eyes,
dotting and blacking
they scrape the nervous
system and i think i
used to pray to settle
from 3429 ft.two years ago from paris, saskatoon looked like a small solar system, hazy with rain and cold. three days ago from toronto, it is midday and foggy, a thick blanket of grey masking tiny grey buildings cut by a tiny grey river. but the feeling is the same and i want to reach across the aisle to hold my sister's hand much the same as two years ago, russell reaching for my hand, any hand, two changed souls unprepared to face the sameness of home.
but the feeling is not the same. we are not two changed souls: we are just happy ones, 'satisfied with the trip' ones, and i do not hold hands when i am happy.
may 3i press tissue paper to the skin
above my ankle, apply pressure,
try not to think about the red and
searing and the itch in my hand.
i decide i want to cover my body in
ink, beautiful and expensive.
my grandmother asks me why i
want a tattoo.
i tell her, "i think they're
five years of thinking pass.
birds fly across my wrist and i trap
beautiful and expensive.
reverberationshey skinny boy, you walk like you know where you're going
and when you kiss me, i don't know what to say
( and it sort of
reverberates between us, doesn't it? )
parenting 101when our children wake up screaming in the middle of the night
or crawl into our beds, we have a list of reassurances:
"it was just a nightmare" and
"it was just the shadows" and
"it was just your imagination"
until they, too, are desensitized and locked in a cage,
condition themselves to be blind and sane like the rest of us
#3i remember the colour of your hair the day that you were born
and the way that your eyes gripped like vices,
refusing to see anything more than your own inner sanctum;
i can still hear the first, curdled cries you let loose into the world.
i remember holding the talisman of your birth against myself
and hearing your gurgling as we drove,
desperate to find relief at the end of yet another road.
i remember the curve of your mouth as you ate softened apples,
the way you struggled to fit your fist between your gums
and the saliva that coated your fingers when you finally gave up.
but mostly i remember the ways i tried to love you,
and the ways in which i managed to fail.
#1we have lived within close proximity of one another for years but it has never been peaceful and now, when i am twenty-one and vacant, all i can say is that you have driven me from grieving for never having had your love, to the silent insanity of not understanding why i should have to try to earn it at all.
let's start nowto those who fall in love with me:
my way with words isn't always right, not because English is my second language - but because there are moments that are just indescribable and those moments deserve to remain in our memories where we can replay them over and over again.
prepare for me to write about you and all that you do (and don't do) in my journal. prepare for me to write you notes and letters with my half cursive handwriting about how i feel about you and all that you are from the inside out.
unlike majority of the United States population, i am probably the last person you want to watch football with because i have no idea of how it's played nor do i care, because i would rather watch games of hockey, or baseball, or soccer instead.
however, that shouldn't (and probably won't) stop me from buying snacks for you and your pals to munch on while you enjoy the game; i might even steal some snacks from you guys from time to time.
maybe you're like me - you would rather sta
Dear SelfDear Self,
It is okay to have bad food days. Meaning not feeling like eating for what ever reason. We still need to eat. I know it is hard. Still eat. Food is good for you. Food is your friend. Food is fuel. Remember that.
I know it is hard for you hear it from media. Must me super super skinny. No matter what your age is. Must be super super skinny. The media does not care about your health. Your body does though. We want to be healthy.
So eat today. At least twice and snacks. We like snacks. It's not like you over indulge on food ever. You are the person that goes to a buffer and get a salad first. Then a main course meal. Then dessert. You do not over eat.
So eat food. We have a long life ahead of us. We wish to live it.
We are gonna get back to you about exercising more. That keeps one healthy too. Starting with food and being good to yourself about eating.
Be good to yourself today. Eat.
#2when we speak, i hear the plasticity of my bones echo on the curve of your pronunciation as if i were made for you to fondle, as if i were made to order for your pleasure, and i hate you for it.
[Senpai] My life with Senpai
I have never expected it to turn out this way, when I met my senpai.
But, if it’s true, if you really have a dream, don’t wait—act.
I wish I could do that…
My name? Barb.
Oh, right, I am sorry if you expected this to be a Reader-Insert…!
I am the girl who is currently running around the Seasonflowers department, brushing the metal tables that the plants are on off, and cleaning said flowers as well.
I am a trainee at the start of my third and last year of being an Apprentice. I am learning to be a garden center shop assistant.
My sudden interest in these cute, harmless and gentle living things was triggered by one of my main hobbies; watching anime.
Our branch is not big considering the ones in the nearby areas, or the one next to central, but it’s not small either. I’ve been to the Houseplants department, the Florist department and the Hardware department, which mostly consists of pots, flower seeds and the like. Non-
A letter (unread by the person addressed)Hey.
Been a while huh? You must hate me after leaving you for so long, without a goodbye even! I can only imagine how much you do but... let me say this:
Move on. It's been too long.
You mightn't know that I've been keeping an eye on you, just to see how you're doing and it's a good thing you don't. The last thing I want is for you to beg me to come back. It's strange though, don't you think? Pretty counter-intuitive to look at you from a distance if I didn't want anything to do with you. A fool's action really but we both know I'm not the brightest -to top it off, rather stubborn. So I shall continue this... as my watch becomes less often until, I won't be there any more. There, I will truly be gone but then again I suppose it makes no difference to you; you don't know a thing.
From my observations... it's almost as though you're dead. Now, I don't like that. What ever happened to that person who was all ready to flow with creativity; who wasn't afraid of speaking u
two peopleI say ignore my such talks that appeared directly insulting or cheap to nonwhites...
I dont mean to profess racial hatred..but yes a seclusion of caucasian race, for sure. I know nonwhites wont have any problem agreeing to our right and need to save ourkind.
In fits of amused amour i have insulted who so not...so please forgive me..let me repent...
of course nonwhite are equally respectable as whites.,...just seperate and different...lot of my state of mind is affected by my neighbours treating me like a dog in notion, just for supporting white cause..and that makes me feel silly and retarded..
day one, part threei think your eyes are pretty and your smile is pretty and your hair is pretty and your legs shot heat down my spine.
but you're not that pretty up close you wear your eyeliner like the thick outline of bad clipart and when your legs aren't moving, i forget who you are. the girl beside you toys with the ends of her hair and her thighs are tanned and bare just like yours. her voice is syrup, sugar content too high, and it's all i can do to keep my mouth upturned, to partake in the pleasantries of small talk.
you are just another girl with hair extensions and jeans cut at the pockets. when you speak, it is hard to hear beyond the cotton candy vowels that think you are still a little girl (did you ever grow up?).
i want to lift your parietal bone and look for something other than pretty and legslegslegs.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More