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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
Auditions!So, in the last entry I was talking about :icondon-hill-44: doing a Lets read of 'Gaming is Magic'
He needs two voice actors.
A deep male voice to play Mark - Link
A male British accent to play Aaron - Link
for his Let's Read
You have to be ok with MLP and Markimash lol
If you are interested, contact him!
Cadenky en Problemas 2 Cap. 5~ Natasha lleva a Franky a una sala de conciertos cerca de por ahí ~
Franky: … Este lugar es…
Natasha: Ah… parece que lo recuerdas.
Franky: Cómo no olvidar el lugar donde Cadence se presentó por primera vez…
Natasha: ¿Crees que si traemos a Cadence aquí, tal vez recuerde algo?
Franky: Bueno, ella no sabe que tiene hermanas, asique será un poco difícil que la traigas diciéndole hermana…
Natasha: … ~Le da una cachetada~
Franky: … ¿Qué te pasa?
Natasha: No digas eso que se siente feo… Además lo dice el que se va a casar ¬3¬
Franky: … ¬.¬
~ Kasane Teto – Jitter Doll (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlWfGaOUzEg)~
(LETRA NO ENCONTRADA T.T)
- Lo que acaban de escuchar es el opening (?? No tiene nada que ver con la historia pero se oye chingon –
~ Al día siguiente ~
Petey K: ¿Y cómo piensan en que Cadence rec
Dear DeathHi there.
You've shown up in a lot of media, I don't know if you've noticed. I was just watching a movie about you the other day, actually. You were kind of sweet there, like someone who came to end pain for people in suffering. I'd like to think that's what you're like.
Still, I'm pretty freaking ticked at you, sir. ... Madam. Whichever. I mean, I know it's been almost two years, but you took someone I really cared about, and I wasn't ready for him to go.
Most of the time I'm okay with it, anymore. Most of the time I can say, "My dad's dead," and not even make an awkward pause in the conversation, because usually (almost always) I can pass it off as if it's something in the past, something I've gotten over, and the people I'm talking to take their cues from me.
Other times, though, I still want to break down sobbing, or go out and find you and rip you from limb to limb as if you were a real person, because I want you to hurt like I do. I want you to lose something the way
SamikuFaltaban 3 meses para la graduación, entonces llegó una niña nueva, su nombre era Samiku. La nueva era muy inteligente, simpática y callada, creo que eso es lo que le daba un aire de misterio. Intenté conocerla algo mejor, así que me acerqué a ella y le dije hola y todo eso, la chica me respondió a todo hasta que le pregunté de donde venía, entonces la chica dejó de sonreír y giró la cabeza como haciendo que me ignoraba.
Pasaban los días, Samiku no paraba de decir: debo deshacerme de todos, debo deshacerme de todos… Me daba miedo. Eran ya las 12:30 había acabado el recreo y ahora nos tocaba música, se suponía que el maestro mandó el día en el que llegó Samiku que tendríamos que hacer un mini concierto con ayuda de unos amigos no compañeros. Fueron pasando los niños nadie había sacado aún un 100, me tocaba a
Letter's to Divorced Dad (Girl Writer) Dear Daddy,
I hope to clear things up with you. I have been a selfish prick and I know I have been hurting you. At the time, I didn't realize the consequences picking her over you. I wanted to stay where I knew people, had more family than those liars living with you, and doing things I wanted to do. In doing this, I was hurting you so you started doing what you always did when you got hurt. You lashed out. You say that I have stabbed you in the back, but in all truth I was looking out for my best interest and you were trying to get your pride back. I'll always be your daughter, Dad, but I don't want to have the life that you were put through. I want to be with friends, I want to make you happy, but I can't make everyone happy now can I? I'm sorry, but I need you to understand. I'm a teenager. I'm going to be selfish, I'm going to be lazy, and I'm going to hate everyone every now and again. So stop pouting and be my father and not a wounded anim
GratitudeIt's hard to believe
that it's been 6 years
since I joined dA,
and began showing myself to the world,
making new friends,
and staying in touch with the old.
It's been 6 years
of learning and trying new things
while developing my skills
as both a writer and an artist
as well as learning how to better communicate ideas.
In these 6 years
I wasn't always there
when things got tough for others
but there was always someone there
to help pick me up when I was down
Hail HerI hail the suprematus
The winds, fire, water, thunder, Sun, Ether, Dimensions, Humans, Spirits, Nature, Blood, Metal, and SOMA and Life..
Diaries of A Mad Girl To Her Invisible FriendRadio babble and a place to call home
My invisible friend,
No, I did not move to a different time zone
Sometimes I take a nap after work and then I am up for a few hours, sleep for a few more and then back to work This is the most awaited week of the year because minus two days of stress.... those two days of the year, freedom to do more fun things at work has finally arrived! I will say, it was a nice day today It was nice to see pencils moving away and nobody just staring at the paper One more day of that tomorrow and then presentation time in the evening.... I always get stage fright and jitters, but somehow the words come out. I know you do not believe I could ever run out of nonsense or be speechless, but I do have my moments
I do have a bunny story... make it more like three bunnies chasing themselves in circles around the neighbors' trees. I could not quite catch them all on video, except for my bunny running back home. I am sure they are all just playing, but
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.
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More