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I began to writeI began to write a verse filled with spite, filled with anger and utter betrayal.
I began to write how I was truly hurt and all the wrongs that had been done to me.
I began to write to protest on everything you had done, to shame you, to blame you.
But as I began to write I seen that nothing worked, that I had filled the page with a vile and hateful verse.
I had seen that what I had began to write was the beginning of a fight, a beginning of a war that would only hurt both sides.
So instead if fighting fire with fire, I extinguished the flame, and made a white flag for my soul.
I took a step back from my fiery attack.
And I began to write this.
Take a walk with me.To the end we shall go, were ever it may be,
Take me down the path less travelled, walk me through the sea.
The broken glass of crackled hearts, were bare feet may tread,
Along side the river of the dammed, the water coloured red.
Hollow bones and bullet holes litter the sandy plain,
Dried blood is the mark that only death may reign.
Yet here we stand in fire and smoke,
Drowning in it's gentle choke.
and off I'll sail.
To a valley of eternal bliss.
My WingsMoving on to better things, I'm so happy I found my wings
No need for tears, no sinking fears.
A burning passion comes in roaring fashion.
A smile I bear, free without a care.
No broken hearts, or scaring marks.
I'm moving on to better things, no more rocks upon my wings.
Teacher's pet peeve.You loathe me, you really do,
I know my presence just bothers you.
Those evil glares and little digs,
All those things to make you big.
You can poke and you can prod,
Then preach your words about your god.
You can act the little saint,
But that's something you just ain't.
You can pretend that I'm not there,
And then act like you treat us fair.
Questions of a wider scope,
Get a "no further questions" and a bible quote.
Crow like demeanour you wallow in pride,
No pity you offer, as you throw the carcass aside.
That burning hatred of me, you truly despise,
That roaring fire in your eyes.
Now tell me Miss, as it's clear to see,
Why do you really hate me?
Pass the saltAt a darkened lonely table I find myself eating
The echoes of my heart beat fill the room.
Empty eyes watch from afar,
My every move being judged.
Each thought of mine being ridiculed
The faint foot steps as my fellow guest arrives
His head toped with a silk hat,
His face illuminated by the soft candle glow.
Sunken eyes with an endless stare,
Ghostly face baring scars.
The dining table puts us miles apart
Plates were a banquet used to be filled now with mere crumbs,
Now chipped and cracked like the empire around it.
We dined on what remained of a beggars feast.
Bathed under dying candle light.
The devilish eyes that watched grew closer with each breath I took.
Before they could reach us, the candle went out.
In the darkness my guest spoke,
His only words were;
"Pass the salt"
I sayI say I don't care, but I really do.
I say I'm ok, but if you really knew.
I say that I'll wait, but it already feels so long.
I say that I can do it, but I really can't carry on.
I say that I'll stay, but I really want to go.
I say that I'm fine, but I really feel low.
I wish I could say all the things that are true, but I know that's something I could never do.
Am I?Am I strong? I feel weak.
I feel overwhelmed,
It all seems bleak.
Am I right? I feel wrong.
I’ve ruined everything,
All I loved is gone.
Am I happy? I feel sad.
I’m lonely and depressed.
It feels like I’ve lost everything I ever had.
Am I whole? I feel broken.
I feel like I’m spilt in two.
My tongue ripped out, no more words can be spoken.
Am I ever going to feel okay again?
No one knows, my dear friend
RestlessHaunting voices torment my sleep.
Growing pressures pull me to the dark so deep.
Heavy weights upon my chest.
Losing will, I cannot rest.
Nightmares grow in strong daylight.
A losing battle, one I cannot fight.
Tears do not fix, nor ease the pain.
For all I do seems in vain.
Feeling useless, feeling spent.
Would it best if I went,
Far away, never to return.
To run from the pain that bites and burns.
Far away, in a foreign bed,
Still unable to rest my head.
the girl - isome days the girl does not know where she starts and where she ends. her being seems to be
stretched out between too many variables. her mind clinging to the sensation of a child's wish;
stretching out her arms so that they may be long enough to grasp a piece of the sky and hold
a sense of wonder in her hands.
Soul dissects old body.His soul takes the pearly scalpel to the grey cold he was, laid out on the marble table.
First, the skin. Touched by 1503 different people, kissed by thirteen. It is bloodless, and opens like a
Second, the lungs. Has the tint of air from eighty different countries, and twelve types of tobacco.
Third, the heart. Broken by five, fixed by one. Would have lasted ten more years without the smoking.
Fourth, the intestines. The villi had touched 800’000 types of cuisine. 25’000 drinks. 125 types of wine.
Fifth, the stomach. Handled thirty different horror movies.
Sixth, the kidney. One missing, instead in his wife’s body. One left is shriveled like a weary conker in a fetal position.
The soul nods to the angel nearby, and the body turns to grass. A tree sprouts from the life inside the silent veins.
the girl - ii"will you stay this time", the girl can be catched whispering every once in a while,
when that foreign friend called "luck" comes calling. he is fickle like the first
spring breeze. still cold and swift, but with that promise of warmth we all seek.
he does not visit her often; or so it sometimes seems to the girl with day-dream
eyes. but despite it all, she keeps clinging to that one hope: that one day luck
will be here to stay.
Talking It OutI don't know what to do. I'm losing my mind over all of this...
Have you considered talking to someone?
I'm talking to you, aren't I?
I meant someone that isn't a figment of your imagination.
You're real to me. And why would I do that?
Because the purpose of therapy is to help people.
I don't need help, I just need to think everything through and figure it all out.
You can't maintain a relationship for more than a month at a time and you have a new significant other within a week of the last relationship's end. Every relationship ends up with you and I having this same conversation.
So I'm a bit fickle, that's no big deal. And hey, all I try to do is not break any hearts.
All you do is break hearts.
At least I try not to.
You need to talk to someone!
I don't want to!
Don't give me that silent pout thing.
Look, I think I know what the problem is anyways.
Oh? And what might that be?
I'm in love with
VoidIf I were God I would create a world where nothing existed, except the nihil.
Heavy purple clouds. Deliriums of grandeur under a dark sky.
The taste of the heights.
The creator's indifferenceEven the most tragic lives are nothing but a play enacted in the theater of existence. The creator is indifferent towards the suffering of his creatures. The beauty of their lives is all that matters to him. It is the sudden spark that lights the stage. Making it possible to glimpse the truth behind the beings.
There is something constantly dying inside of me. There is a shadow within me that has swallowed my whole life. And I was not allowed the right to resist. I have known the pain of giving birth to the whole universe. And it has painted the recesses of my mind black.
There is nothing in this life to me, there could not be. I will be forever watching, like a strange, a life that is not mine. Why am I here? Is it perhaps part of the designs of God? I could never know, but I won't take part. I should be indifferent towards even the most atrocious pain. I have listened a voice coming from above. This is only a dream.
"And in the depths of her suffering she meets the creator". He's wri
The Key That Changed The World
Deeply regret to advise you Titanic sank this morning, the fifteenth, after a collision with an iceberg resulting in serious loss of life. Further particulars later.
At 2:20 AM Atlantic Standard Time on the morning of April 15, 1912, the largest and most luxurious man-made object that had ever been moved, the Royal Mail Steamer (RMS) Titanic, disappeared beneath the calm waters of the North Atlantic about 370 miles or 600 kilometers south-southeast of the coast of Newfoundland, leaving behind her the majority of 2,208 living, breathing human beings-- people with families, dreams, hopes, ambitions, and plans-- struggling to stay afloat in the frigid ocean water. Among them were the world's richest and most famous and influential individuals, who
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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