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RIDEnvelope within this thinning air;
Allow breathing in ease.
Dont keep the atmosphere heavy
They are heaving,
Tip toeing on the ground ridden with desease where footsteps are misplaced.
Transfuse with the surrounding light and mirror or even Take up Translucency.
Dont let being block anything beyond it.
They are squinting,
Many eyes burning.
Create illusions of the eye
Let voice ring within white noise
The static will cleanse all impurities
Their ears still bleeding
muscles fitfully twitching.
Morningslong and drawn out inhalations
Flustered cheaks and a sudden restlessness
Lungs burning, head spinning
Body shaking vision blurring
Rain against glass spells doom and gloom for most but being a day like today, bliss is all that dances benieth the foggy window pane. lying here for a few more hours wont prohibit the earths rotation, conversations will continue to spark and people will roam the land like ghostly figures weaving through time. May I distatch myself for a couple more minutes? The boiler still rumbles and charasmatic voices sing low benith the floor boards. May I just close my eyes for a few seconds? the sun wont stop setting regardless of my witnessing. For a moment longer, the world will not stop even deprived of my participation. It will learn to grow without another voice in its mists. I'll get up soon, but my dear earth, you must learn to hold your breath.
another cliche poem .-.Athough you give me shifty eyes
That sticks to your direction
I cant help notice your blissful sighs
And awe at your perfection
Although you keep me on the edge
Perched high on fluid ground
I cant help trod this brittle ledge
Just so you are sound
And although my heart knows not of love
From savage heartbreake afore
I cant help forge a rapid pulse
When you walk through the door
when hit which is felt first, pain or pressure?The brick wall slammed first against my defending hands, effortlessly shattering brittle bones. I had not yet registered the collision regardless the fact I had forseen this wall heading towards me many miles before. Immense pain, sharing the same path as lighting, diverged its way to my collarbone.
Anything left of my hands, once machines of creation, was a little less than a compact mass of flesh, bone and blood. My knees,oh my knees; I couldent bare to look down at what had come of my knees! I My skull, brain and mind once throbbing in groth, had been compressed. Was it pain or pressure I felt?
ProgrammedYou are programmed for self destruction
Diseased with leaching viruses
Destroying for a promised peace
Sabotaging rabid with delusion
But of course it will not come
Oh how this tricky has consumed you
You thought it had ended did you not?
Well I'm terribly sorry
I can’t let you win
Nothing is owed to you
You will be left with nil
Because it’s the least I can do
Say thank you
10110110And so they sing. Riddle upon riddle, word upon word. It seems all that radiates from their gaping mouths are deafening tones. Wave upon wave come the discorded banter. What am I to do with this senseless shit?
Somebody please transcribe this intrusive nonsense;
for I cannot listen, but only hear...
and Im one chord short of sane
Moment of death (part 1)
Fog seeped effortlessly into the cracks of the small, hollow window. Creeping solemnly, it surrounded the lone figure, daring not to disturb its restless sleep. It danced around the silver floor as if it owned the place and through the grey abyss sang a low slow; thump, thump, thump. White noise gradually filled the room as the thumping grew louder and faster, surely poisoning the ears of silent ghosts that roam the heavy air. However it was not nearly enough to awake the slumped, shadowed body. The thumps became booms.
“DON’T!” he screeched. His own heart beat awoke him from the twisted dreams of faces he use to know. He turned slightly to face the patch of light that lay across the cold metallic ground; the light rays were less comforting than he had hoped. He looked
wordwords, the bullets lined with silver.
they are sharpened but become blunt with time.
the difference it makes?none.
they penetrate their hearts desolating those poor wounded souls.
emptying every warmth left inside.
don't ever tell me words do not hurt, you sing lies.
for all of the offence intended and the people left unmended
you pull the trigger.
those who say words do not hurt are deluded.
Most contagious of them all
The light known to overflow our souls
In absence, numbness empties our minds
And our hearts forget to feel.
The pleasure of easing pain,
when hope is here and the horrors leave.
The Sudden lifting of fear
gives us permission to relax.
When there’s no more to expect
Finally become strong enough,
Consider an alternative.
You’re giving e choice
Hurt may visit buts there’s no escape
Face the truth, its over.
Deal with it.
desolates the heart,
Those who are hurting hurt
But when the loved cause pain
we are destroyed
You cannot hide pain.
Levi x Reader: After All This Time? (9) (f/n)'s eye shot open immediately, before she could react to William's lips on hers. Levi shoved him and pushed him against the wall. He had his arm on William's neck, very ready to strangle him. William, however, remained unfazed by his attack.
"Why were you kissing my wife?!" Levi shouted, adding pressure on William's neck. There was something about this man that Levi could not trust. And something that he didn't like as well. (f/n) was confused. She woke up feeling warm and soft lips and now the owner of those lips was being strangled.
"I'm going to kill you for that!" Levi shouted once more, about to strangle him to death. (A/N: LOL)
William got bored of Levi's childish threats and his not so effective strength and shoved Levi off, fixing his tie that Levi had ruined.
"Levi! What the hell are you doing in my room?" (f/n) questioned, keeping a stoic yet irritated face. She looked at William threateningly while he
An Alchemist's Experience
Proofed by: NorthboundFox
“Just a few more ingredients…..” Ozzy muttered as he bounced around his workshop. Dried herbs and plants hung from the rafters of his basement brushed against his face as he furiously swatted them aside muttering under his breath “dried baby’s breath…… dried baby’s breath…… nooo…. nope…nope… nope…. AH HA!” he exclaimed happily as he jumped off the stool beaming as he thrust the bundle triumphantly at his mate. Jenna sighed and shook her head slowly, “looks the same as all the others to me.” she said with a shrug. Ozzy’s expression drooped, “you know I could teach you to do this yourself you know right?” He walked over to a small pot hung over a Bunsen burner and dropped 3 of the flowers in. “I know, I know…” Jenna said as she padded behind him and nuzzled his neck, “but I’d
England x Reader [Oneshot] [[Commission]]
England/Arthur Kirkland x Reader
Commission for SweetDarkJen
Hetalia and it's characters © Hidekaz Himaruya
This story © RecklessAlbinoChibi
You © Yourself, or whoever you want
Her brightly coloured trainers clicked against the dirtied school floor with each step that she took. The sounds of her footsteps meshed together with the shouting voices of the many students that attended Gakuen Hetalia High as they either attempted the push past the crowds and get to class or mucked around in the halls. However, it was mostly the latter. Her footing was slow and tired, a legit sign that showed her destination. She was heading towards the most hated subject ever. Maths.
It was the last lesson of the day; both a blessing and a curse. Her [favourite colour] school bad was slung lazily over
(Req) Methods of Communication (Canada x Reader)
"Ahh! Oh no!"
Pausing mid-sip of your drink, you glanced up.
Matthew Williams, probably one of the most discussed guys in your year at college, was standing a ways across from where you swear, beneath a large oak tree that had likely been planted there when the college was first built. Its great height and width stood as a testament to just how much both it and the college itself had grown since their beginning. From the distance you stood, it looked like Matthew had dropped a folding, sending a wad of papers scattered about his sneakered feet like giant, grounded butterflies. He hastily crouched, grabbing at the papers haphazardly, in a desperate attempt to stop them from being swept away by the breeze snaking its way between the buildings, but taking care not to crumple or rip the pages.
One paper, however, missed his frantic fingers and zoomed off, carried away by the air current. You glanced down, jolting slightly in surprise at the paper slapped into the leg of your jeans. Bending
Reader x Trickster!Nepeta: Egg Coloring"EY YO BITCHIE-"
"Oh my god she's still alive are you kidding me?"
Your name is ___ ___ and your... matesprit, Nepeta Leijon, Tac as you call her, is frantically pounding on your door.
"BITCHIE LEMME IN I REALLY NEED TO MAKE PLANS WITH MEW AND YOUR CUTE BUTT."
"Do we have to?" you groaned. You were literally laying on the floor of your cute little one-story apartment. Your Siamese cat, Simi, licked your nose. Simi was fond of the troll and in return, the troll was fond of Simi.
"Uh. Well not really but I'd sure as hell purrefur mew did." you heard her make a face. "And befur mew ask, no I didn't kill anyone this time. Da po-po let me furreeeeee~" the Trickster chirped.
"Fine." you simply said, wiggling over to the door and sitting up, staring at the oversized wood plank. "What's the password?"
"THERE'S A PASSWORD?!"
You stifled a laugh, merely smirking and standing up, stepping back to dodge the olive blood's attempted tackle-pounce as you opened the door. "Hello t
A Southern Story: Chelsea at the supermarketHey! How you doing, I haven’t seen you since before the reception!
Aww, that’s good to hear, glad everything’s going okay for you! Me? Oh, I’m just bracing myself for this coming football season. I got stuck in charge of the cheerleaders again, and you know how that turned out LAST year. Put all that effort into getting skinny, ah, well, you know, not quite so hugely fat, and they all looked at me doing that and went back to stuffing their faces.
I’ve already made up my mind, I’m not even going to try this year to make these girls lose any weight. It's down to them, if they want to look good, they can stop stuffing their greedy little faces. If they want to make terrible messes out of themselves, then go ahead, have that fourth plate of nachos. I’m just gonna sit back and let them do it.
We had our first meeting last week and guess who just waltzed in ten minutes late, shoving a Hershey’s bar in her face? Kaitlyn O’Leary, reme
Oddities | Iceland x ReaderThe shop is bland, faded; as if all color had been drained from it and left it solemn and grey and small, squashed between two smart red-brick buildings that towered over it a couple of stories higher, so that it looked like a little grey child settled between fat red parents, all forced into the backseat of a car driven by a relative; an oddity from every other building.
You chuckled to yourself from underneath this little shop's faded awning, listening to the hollow sounds of rain dripping onto it overhead. Why you had chosen this place, of all possible shelters, was unknown to you.
Your hair and clothes are spattered with dark, small stains of rainwater, your backpack even more so. You would worry about its contents later. For now you are stranded blocks away from home, without an actual umbrella, and have been spending the last few seconds standing underneath this awning.
The door opens with the hollow rattle of a bell -- a rattle more than a tinkle, a silent, clanking sound -- as
CrystalJessica wants to be a vet when she grows up, that means a doctor for animals. My mum told me it was very difficult to be a vet because you had to go to school for a long time (which I wouldn’t mind) and that lots of people want to work with making animals better and there are only a small number of jobs for those people. I’m not sure she’s right about that because I always see dead animals on the roads on the way to Dad’s house if we don’t go the motorway way. If animals are still dying outside then I don’t think there are enough vet doctors to go around. Adults are like that sometimes though; you have to let them think that you believe them. It’s just easier not to argue.
I think Jessica would make a great vet. She has three dogs, all of different kinds. She had a greyhound called Mario, a spaniel called Lucy and a bison - no, a bichon frise called Dahlia. She’s a little white one and only has half a bark but she licks my hands when I go
Kettling‘All I wanted was a kettle. Mam taught me at a young age that a cup of tea solves all of life’s problems. So, being the proud owner of my very first shared apartment, all I wanted was a kettle. That’s why I was at Walmart that day. I’d been hanging around trying to work out the difference between a load of kettles that had vastly different prices. One of them purified the water before boiling it but I thought that boiling did that anyway, so I wasn’t sure. I scratched the back of my neck and felt the tension in my forehead of an oncoming headache. I needed to stop frowning, it was just a kettle for gods sake. I bought the cheapest (shiny aluminium) one that I could find. I didn’t buy the £12 white plastic job – even I had some standards.
As I left I saw a man in a red Walmart shirt and a dainty little woman trying to shove a huge washing machine box into the back of a little white van. I ran to help when the box shifted suddenly with a da
Spot the liarthis little story is based on my own quote: "How can a person think if so many voices are screaming at them?"
what? Did you just smile? .Cover your face and feel the cold, red-rich blood stick to your skin.It still smells of him.That guy that use to be happy for the both of you.What did you do? Numb your mind of what you've done and get the hell out of there. No don't you cant look back. Its too late.Run as fast as humanly possible you selfish idiot, do you want to surrender to guilt?Let yourself tremor with rage...THIS IS FOR YOURSELF YOU BASTARD... FEEL GRATEFUL".No mercy
He Stabs Furiously at the fleshy mess.Each time the blade meets his bare arm they wince and smile, hiding the agonising reality that they cannot stop them himself he continues to strike, each one more painful than the last. It's if the pain is trying to escape in form of a smile. He stop. satisfied that its over. Slowly he bring the b
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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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