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Until we meet again”Let me create a world for you”, she said to the love of her life.
“A world?” he wondered with curiosity in his eyes.
“I’ll make it just for you and follow your every request”, she told him with a smile. Smiling back, he took her hands in his and their fingers intertwined.
“Then, I want the sky to be as blue as your eyes and the stars to gleam just like them. I want the sun to be as golden as your hair and as bright as smile. I want the air to be filled with the beautiful sound of your voice and to be as warm and comforting as your embrace. I want dawn and twilight to be as rosy as your cheeks when you blush. I want the flowers to smell of your sweet scent and the grass to be as soft as your lips. At last I want the ticking of the time to be like the pounding of your heart that I hear when I put my ear to your chest.”
She told him to close his eyes and imagine it all, his wonderful world.
“Do you see it?” she asked
UnconnectedWhen did autumn become so short? I’ve always adored the bright colour of the leaves and the crisp winds that played with them. All of a sudden these beloved scenarios are passing by, leaving me behind before I'm able to cherish them. I reach out for them but no matter how much I fumble they’re already gone with the days I’ll never get back.
I used to lie awake the night before my birthday in October, impatiently waiting with excitement until I fell asleep so that morning could come. These days I lie awake at night thinking about death. I’m terrified of heaven. Yes, heaven scares me more than anything. Since I was little I’ve always believed in God and that I will come to him after I’ve died. The difference now is that I’m not sure if I want it to happen. Dying doesn’t scare me but the thought of being in a place with eternal happiness frightens me. I just can’t seem to imagine staying in such a place FOREVER with no end to it. It do
Diary bound by nonsenseI mixed my feelings in a blender and swallowed them down again.
I released them in a thundercloud just above my head.
The growth I got from disbelief was shaved off quickly without doubt.
My tears were sold for a price that sadness made up to count.
I purged up the nausea that nervousness came out to be.
Could I see the bottom whole of anxiety fill up with lies and ease?
Knotted were my memories being drawn back in forgotten.
My dreams as traumas were once smashed under the palm of my hand.
Spilling like oil on hot surface my regrets spat up at me.
I burned with hurt and ignorance for being so naive.
Buried shall my secrets be above my future hopes.
A glass ball of insanity were rolled and painted with blood.
Boldness is only ignorance I watched over in the bottom of a well.
Fished it up with a hook of bitterness as the coward I then was.
Never fear the network of trust that was blown away with gruesome dust.
I rather stay locked up and write names for curiosity on keys of childishness
Skin and bonesWhen I saw you in your bikini I was concerned; you were a skelleton with skin on.
It made me happy with relief when I saw you eating that high calorie ice cream.
How was I suppose to know it was the first thing you ate that day,
after swimming several length in the outside pool.
How was I suppose to know you made yourself puke after that,
when you said you were going to the bathroom?
And later you bikes several miles home on empty stomach.
You came home to an empty house and binged on everything you could find.
You looked yourself in the mirror and all you saw was fat.
So you threw all the food up though your sight was a complete lie.
Then you ran outside to burn those calories though there were none left.
You ran so fast and long and never came back home.
It was just outside my house you fell when your heart stopped.
Do you speak anime?Senpai told me a little, a lot, how to catch this world in a single shot.
But I try and I fail to read the words of your lips. All too tight, they were to strict.
Mahou, I can spell it with my fingertip, it isn't hard but it's easy to slip.
Your expression is so impossibly obvious, you hang those stripy, pink blushes onto us.
I see the dream, hai watashi. Never always awkward between you and me.
Everytime a new episode, all the wonders went lost. Not very certainly on our own cost.
Somehow the music matched our feelings that day, my apology isn't to be delayed.
Gomen, I mean let's do this one more time. Your heart is to be opened and forever mine.
Translations are too much useless, for fans and everyone it's making a mess.
If you can't love soon this comedy I say, you'll be down on your knees for dignity okay?
Kawaiiso. But you know that's the pretty deal, of cooking up a japanese bento meal.
Arigato, the sweets never made us fat, my legs are thin and my stomach is flat.
But it's nothi
Trapped inside my headThe latest days I've been convinced something is living in my stomach.
Eating the food I take in, leaving me weak and empty.
It was terrifying when I thought it would burst out all of a sudden.
I saw the skinny black man crying on a chair when I was talking to the doctor.
The doctor sat down in the same chair.
When the black man was gone I almost started crying too.
Something had been attached around my head and I was terrified it'd crush my skull.
I was looking for dad when the people outside distracted me and I went down the hall.
Looking at them through the glass made me feel unreal.
Then I discovered the small creatures with sharp teeth and crystal eyes.
They were playing in the snow at it looked like they smiled at me.
The doctor came up to me and talked about my new meds.
I barely listened because I was looking at the dirt on the floor.
Later I saw the boy who had raven oily skin just like the man I saw earlier.
It hit me that it could be his son and they were looking for each ot
I hear you. I see the long pipe in your bony hand. You look like a skeleton with sickly green shadows all over your body. Every time you bare feet hit the floor with impossibly heavy footsteps for such a little girl I feel the ground shaking. It shakes so that I can feel the bones in my fingertips breaking slowly with a crusty sound.
"I know you're here Liza, I can see your guts squirming in the back of my head. I can feel the surface of your iron eyes burning like in hell. Your insides scream for me Liza. The want me to cut them open."
I hold back the urge to purge. I have this horrible feeling I could actually slide my fingers down my icy throat and tickle the cold flesh with my dirty nails just to puke it all up. Get rid of it, the heart, the lungs and the stomach. Every single thing that you crave so badly. I can feel the slime beneath the touch of my fingers; somehow my body has already reacted on what I thought. I cough loudly and my head aches. My brain can't take the p
DisorderSometimes my little brother will bite the skin on his fingers
as he always do
it's a sort of tix I suppose
and as everyone else I'll tell him
"Don't bite your fingers"
he'll growl at me
like everytime I say that
and stop for a while but then he'll start again
I just have to look at him really
he understands and whine a bit
"You stop having Anorexia"
he's said once or twice before
I'll laugh and he too
but my smile fades quickly
if it only was that easy.
You can't live without eatingI don't know why it happened to me really. I don't know how many times I've asked myself that question. Why me? I remember how it all started. It was long before I got diagnosed actually. I had been depressed for a long time already. Then it just hit me. What if I'd try to change something with myself to get rid of this misery? I pretty much wanted to die anyway.
That's when I first started exercising. I've always loved dancing and I could that simple math they've all told us, the medias, school, parents If you burn more than you take in you'll lose weight. I had plenty of time at first since it was summer after all. I danced and danced and started to say no to sweets once in a while. I still ate them though, to reward myself. I didn't have any problems with food yet. But the dancing I used to love so much became a torture. At least 30 minutes a day I worked out. I had no interest in breakfast and had a fruit instead.
My hard work paid of though. People told me I looked good and
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
On WritingWrite for today
And like it’s all
That’ll be left of you
Never write for popularity.
Write with clarity, but
‘Don’t make everything said’.
Write a million things;
An ode to the voice
Inside your head,
An elegy for the living,
A carpe diem for the dead.
Write to tell
To just keep
They’ll find a way out.
Don’t write for approval,
That way misery lies.
Poetry can’t be judged,
Not properly –
Write for yourself;
Doesn’t matter if it’s
Good enough for
You’ll never be Shakespeare.
But he’d never
Have been you;
Pour your heart into it,
That’s the best
That you can do.
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
I Fell In love Inside of a DreamI fell in love,
inside of a dream.
And woke up,
with a broken heart.
But it wasn't my heart,
that was broken.
It was his,
and I'll never see him again.
That long haired, pale skin,
blue eyed boy, will forever remain,
a figment of my imagination.
So close, yet so far away.
And I will never be able to apologize,
for my mistake.
ShatteredIf I found you, on your knees,
trying desperately to collect the shattered pieces of your heart-
I would kneel beside you and help you pick them up.
I would not cast a blind eye,
and pretend I had not seen you.
If I saw that your hands had been cut,
by the very shards of hope you were trying so hard to gather-
I would take your hands in mine, and hold them until the pain subsided.
Then I would kiss every wound- no matter how big or how small,
until I was sure you would be able to use your hands again.
If you were crying from the fear that you'd never be able to pick up everything,
I would hold you until your tears stopped, and I would comfort you with gentle words.
But I would not lie to you- I would never lie.
The heart is a frail thing- once shattered, it can never be fully repaired.
Parts will remain missing, and the mended hope will always bear cracks.
If we found that we'd gathered all that we were able,
and that there were a fine powder remaining of what we could not collect.
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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