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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
What I Want Is To Be With YouI want to walk next to you in the streets of Colorado.
I want to get you on a roller coaster and laugh while you scream your head off, yelling that you'll be fine.
I want to go out to lunch with you and take a million picture of you and I goofing off.
I want us to sit on the couch, trying are hardest to catch up on Supernatural, but knowing we never will.
I want you to comfort me when Teen Wolf ends.
I want you and I to go to class, then meet up later to sit on the bench and talk.
I want us to rate guys from 1 to 10 as they walk by, having you laugh at me when one of them hears me whisper that he's hot.
I want you and I to run around our dorm on a sugar high while everyone else is at a party.
I want us to have prank wars.
I want us to dance wildly on the weekend and eventually crash into something.
I want to laugh at you when you get a brain freeze from too many milkshakes.
I want you to come with me when I get my cast off my leg from trying to climb a big ass tree.
I want you to tease
Dear DeathDear Death,
Do you still remember the first time we met? It was in Kindergarten. I was going down a slide and then the string on the hood of my jacket got caught on the banister and I was choking. I wanted to scream for help but I could only stare forward with my bulging eyes and hanging tongue, until the teacher saw me struggling and untied the string so that I could breathe. "Don't be afraid now," she told me. "You're safe."
I didn't see you again, Death, until many years later. Middle School--when people were busy trying to find their partners on the dance floor during P.E., you and I were already locked in a nightmarish salsa no one else could see. I held the cup of water in one hand while you held the uncapped bottle of pills in the other. And the moment I reached out to you to take them, that's when people saw us dancing and pulled me away. "What the hell were you thinking?" they asked me. "Come back and stay with us."
But even though we weren't moving in macabre unison, the musi
En rescate de Pate... part 3al día siguiente, en mi iglú, yo durmiendo y alguien toca la puerta de mi cuarto
Yo: *me despierto soñolienta* *me dirijo a la puerta y la abro* ajam e.e
Andres: buenos...*ve el reloj* buenas tardes Vic
Yo: *me termino de despertar* tardes!!!???
Andres: sip, a partir de las 12:00 es tarde
Yo: espérame *cierro la puerta con seguro, me cepillo, me peino, me cambio de ropa y salgo* listo
Andres: wow, eso si que es rapidez
Yo: ahora a desayu-morzar
Con los otros en el iglú de la PB
Cadence: por que no han llegado esos 2
Lizzeth: sera que Vic y Andres... ya saben
G-billy: acaso piensas.... O.O
Todos: *con la misma reacción*
Jennifer: Vic y Andres??? estoy 98% segura de que no, ella no es así
Lili: y el otro 2%???
Jennifer: no se puede estar muy seguro de eso
llegamos Andres y yo
Andres: buenas tardes
Todos: *nos ven sospechosamente*
Yo: *terminándome mi malta del desayu-muerzo XD* que pasa??
Lizzeth: no, nad
Poema a Nick No trates de ver lo bueno en mí
Porque está escondido bajo llave
Nunca dejo que nadie llegue a mi interior
No dejo secar las lágrimas que he llorado
No creo que realmente te importe
Si supieras todas las cicatrices que llevo
Tratan de hacer que me sienta menos inútil
Pero sé que me merezco esto
Para dejar de tener un corazón que late
Estoy tratando de no desmoronarme
Sólo borra estas mentiras
Dime lo que es real
Hazme sentir lo que yo no quiero sentir mas
Autor: Jenna Bloom
Cadenky en Problemas 2 Cap. 2~ Cadenky en Problemas 2 Cap. 2 ~
~ Después de una pelea de hermanas epica ~
Natasha: Por cierto Cadence...
Natasha: Jamás me dijiste la razón por que querían formar una familia tan temprano ¬w¬
Cadence: ... Eh
Franky: Creo que igual estas aquí para hacer preguntas incómodas ¬_¬
Natasha: Lo sé... además ... aprovechando que tengo 19 años y puedo entender TODO e_e
Natasha: Hue eue
~ Kasane Teto - Jitter Doll https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlWfGaOUzEg ~
- LETRA NO ENCONTRADA T.T -
~ Lo que acaban de escuchar es el opening... nada que ver con la historia pero se oye chingon :V ~
~ Rato después ~
Natasha: Bueno... mejor me voy antes de que mamá se preocupe...
Cadence: Que te vaya bien Natasha...
Natasha: ... Por cierto... Cadence...
Natasha: ~ Se acerca al oído de Cadence y le susurra ~ ... Ten cuidado con Sebastián ...
Gateway of SlenderMan SlenderMan is coming after me. It won't stop until I give up. I will never give up, I have never given up since I knew what the words "give up" meant. SlenderMan feeds on fear, I have fear. Yet, I do not fear death, nor will I ever fear death. SlenderMan does not kill the people it takes. SlenderMan takes them to a place that is the sliver of shadow between life and true death.
SlenderMan is The Gatekeeper of Shadows. I know how that sounds, it sounds childish but it's true. One man, I will not reveal his name due to privacy requests, has revealed the name to me now I reveal it to you, reader. The name of SlenderMan before it was ever called SlenderMan.
The gates to Heaven and Hell are small wooden fence posts compared to the Black Gate. SlenderMan controls the Black Gate, it keeps the trapped souls SlenderMan had captured in the shadows of life and death. The souls are not dead or alive, they are between the two. SlenderMan keeps them this way for a reason I know
Pygmy Shit Enigma.photoshe was saying derogatory langauge for a woman, so I in rage insulted him..and he is trying to nab my paining never..as if anyone ever got ahead a brahmin's ability of sadism?
he said on my profile:-
Don't leave stupid comments. You wonder why you are nothing and have nothing - look in the mirror. You might be a winner or happy with a change of attitude. Or education
Don't brag sagely cumming.
Jew wonders why you were nothing and give nothing.
Don't look in the mirror, don't self-horror.
You are a loser and sad of your DNA that cant change our attitude and your gestation.
I cannot believe it. Four years has already gone by! It seems like only yesterday that we were chit-chatting on Skype and then soon that friend-ship we had set together became a blooming love interest and then not long after we professed our feelings to one another. How amazed I am. How truly amazed and lucky I feel to have you as my love. My rock. My dove and my beautiful everything. You mean so much to me that it is hard to express it in writing, let alone physically telling you it...
Just four years ago, we were sitting across worlds having a friendly conversation. There was something about you though that caught my eye. Your laughter and those eyes when I first saw your beautiful face and smile on Skype as we started our first video chat. They memorised me seeing all of it and I smiled back. To know you for as long as I have and to have gone through all the things we have gone through together I can say we are extremely fortunate and lucky to be one!!!
It makes me smil
Searching I searched for two years. I finally know the range of the possible location of the mark. SlenderMan has scared me for 3 years, but now I purposely seek it out. I know the risks and the rewards, yet the mark must be found in order to gain the final section of my research. I have come across notes but they don't scare me, for now. I start my searches in the mornings and end at noon. Afternoons aren't good times for searches. I hear static and drums. It is near.
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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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More