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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.
Creepypasta x Depressed!Reader - ZombieI frown looking at the small red droplets covering the bottom of the bathtub. Hearing three louds knocks on the bathroom door makes me look up from my wrist. I didn’t even hear him coming down the hall. Who am I kidding, I never hear him when it most matters.
But I hear the now, going back to the living room. I hesitate for a moment, cleaning up the tub and pulling my sleeves over the soon-to-be scars. I exit out of the bathroom, cigarette smoke instantly filling my lungs, making me want to tear my skin off and cough so bad that it makes throat ache. But I can’t. He is already standing there, eyes narrowed, making his face look much older than it actually should. I walk up slowly, aggravating him more.
He probably wouldn’t have been this angry if Vanilla was here.
She had left a few weeks ago, all while killing our mother. She was just abusive as our father, maybe worse. The police were called before she could get to our d
Eren Yeager x Reader One-Shot: His Hero
Being forced into training after being attacked by the Colossal Titan has caused all Hell to be released into Wall Maria and threatens all inhabitants of Wall Rose. It's only been two years since you, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were pushed in the Trainee Corps. Just being there the first day was harsh enough to drive people to their limits, sending them back into the fields to work hard labor. The sincere intimidation from Keith Shadis had shown the wretched truth as to why some people had signed up in the Trainee Corps in the first place. It made you sick to see that people joined only to live in the luxury of the Military Police Brigade where none of them had to face the horrific creatures known as Titans. You, on the other hand, were planning to join the Survey Corps where you would be serving a purpose; whether it meant you would lose your life the next day.
"WHAT'S YOUR NAME, MAGGOT?!" Keith continued on with intimidating the Trainees as he w
UnableEmily leapt out of the car as soon as it was stopped and her fidgety hands could undo the seat belt, she excitedly ran straight over the lush green verge and into the pebble-dashed sand. Falling to her knees she clamped her hands around fistfuls of the warm little stones and threw them, delighted, into the air. The beach! Emily loved the beach, she had loved it her whole life. It was her second favourite place to be (after her pillow fort with Jennie, her polar bear teddy).
Emily’s Dad scooped her up off of the sand and held her upside down, making her shriek with laughter. He scolded her for running off but she knew that he was as happy as she was to be back at the seaside, so she laughed until he put her down again for wriggling too much.
Right way up again Emily scampered up and down the golden sweep of beach front looking for the absolute perfect place to watch the tumbledown waves of water. Emily knew her
Illustration by :
When I was younger I had many imaginary friends. Short ones, tall ones, some looked like cats or dogs, but none of them could compared to Mr. Thing. Mr. Thing, when I was younger, was a cute little teddy bear my mother had given me when I was three. Despite my imaginary friends he was all to real, cuddling me at night and keeping me company during the day. I carried him everywhere, and had refused to go anywhere without him up till the age of seven. Though even after I had stopped taking him everywhere I had still carried him around the house as if he were able to save me from dangers.
I had explained to him that I didn't want to take him to school anymore because he'd get dirty, and of course he had understood. Patiently waiting for me to return home to play with him. When I would come home he was the first thing I went to; where he would then sit, and help me with
WonderlandThe woman called Alice walks alone through the hollow streets, a seed planted in her sterile heart and a rifle sleeping in her belt. Last night, she'd witnessed the popping of Pérignon, and a dazzling display of fireworks, complete with alcohol-polished emotions and hundreds of thousands of citizens pulsing rowdy fanfare. She'd netted her highest number of kills that fateful day. Blood still rests in the creases of her palms.
A streetlamp greets her brightly with its mild glow, and alerts her to a dirty and disheveled homeless man groveling for money on the other side of the street. The young couple next to him give a feeble attempt to back away, claiming they have none to spare.
"Lies," Alice whispers. She can easily see the pearls jingling from the lady's neck, and a well-crisped suit guarding the young man from the night chill. Money is more than expendable to them. And this city could do without this attractive mask of a couple. They, too, are expendable. Alice begins t
Suicide and RebirthI stumbled upon a beautiful girl who was listening to loud music. I asked her,
"What kind of music do you listen to?"
She took out one earbud from her ear and replied,
"I listen to many things, sir."
"Like what?" I ask with curiosity.
"I listen to the breeze of the wind and the sound of the rain slamming on the roof during the stormiest of nights. I listen to the laughter of children when they play on the playground. I listen to the humming of the birds and the buzzing of the bees." She says.
"What beautiful things to listen to." I smile. "Do you listen to anything else?"
She smiles. "I'm glad you've taken an interest to my taste of music." She continues. "I listen to the pecking of woodpeckers and the howling of the wolf."
"The heart has its own song as well, sir. Do you hear it?" She asks in a tender voice.
"I do not." I say. "What does your heart sing of?"
"My heart sings of the rattling chains coiled around it, constricting it tighter and tighter as life drags on. It
Water Runs in My Veins I break the surface and feel the waves embrace my into their icy, yet soothing arms. Once I am completely immersed, every inch of my skin tingles. My bones seem to melt to match the temperature of the water, and my movements become fluid. I deftly plunge deeper, feeling both the cold and the warmth rush past me with every stroke. The pulse of the ocean beats against my skin; it is alive. I open my eyes to take in the scene. I can't see clearly, the images are blurred. Still, I can make out soft hues of color. I reach out and feel the hard, smooth surface of a rock, resting amongst others. I feel a rigid plant, and my hand even grazes the backs of a couple of slimy fish. With each connection made by my senses, I feel a rush of adrenaline. I am truly unlimited when I'm under the sea; my fears have been washed away by the white waves.
Growing excited, I continue to venture deeper into the dark depths. Soon, I feel wisps of seaweed brush up against me, tickling
Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess and a handsome prince. The prince was a little older but the princess didn't mind. He was like a brother but very, very cute!
But the princess had an evil, mean, stinky older sister who always took the prince away from her! This made the princess very sad and angry!
She wished she was older...that way she could have the prince all to herself!! So one day she prayed to the stars and wished to be older!
"AND IT CAME TRUE!!!" Brianna screeched in her room. She stood in front of her mirror and struck a few poses. The clothes draped on her, and the heels were way too big for her feet. They were heels, bright red ones from mother's closet! Her dress of choice was the most beautiful one out of her mom's closet- a lovely blue sparkly dress which flowed outward like a mermaid dress. However, when Brianna wore it, it looked like a bag.
That's not all she had "borrowed." Her mother's jewelry always lay in the jewelry box on the dresser. It was
Death Battle: Travis Touchdown vs Jack Cayman
Madness Abe: Alright, the votes are in and the combatants are set. Let's end this battle once and for all.
Insanus Abe: IT'S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLE!!!
Varrigan City, Jefferson Island
The monochromatic city of Varrigan was once more in a state of...bizarrely enough, organized chaos. This year's DeathWatch games had started off with a bang, and quite a bang it was. While it was difficult to repair from the damage caused during the last games and was a pain to look for new sponsors and organizers, but in the end, it was done. And the games were once more going and providing blood-soaked entertainment to all.
Jack Cayman stood in the middle of an empty street, leaning on a wall and smoking a freshly lit cigar. It was quite surprising to see the reigning DeathWatch champion be so relaxed...especially considering the fact that he was surrounded by an ocean of mutilated corpses, all victims of a chainsaw to
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
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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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