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Just for TodayHey,
Tell you what.
Just for today,
Let's run away.
Prove to the world
That we are our own.
Take my hand because
Just for today,
We don't have to listen to anyone.
Hold on tight,
And I'll show you the path.
Because just for today,
It's just the two of us.
Close your eyes
And look to your side.
Because just for today
I am beside you,
Holding your hand.
And maybe someday,
Maybe it won't be
Just for today.
Just A Little Kindness"C'mon, finish him off!"
"Yeah, take him down! Show him what we're made of!"
"Let's go, man! Give the devil a taste of his own medicine!"
I frowned, trying to drown out all of the heckling and yelling. It was so hard to focus with the noise. I closed my eyes, clenching my fist.
This was it. It was finally my moment to shine, to take down the guy who'd been harassing me for years. All I had to do was give him one more hard punch. That was it. We'd win, and his gang would finally leave.
I let out a slow breath, locking my eyes on the pathetic man cowering beneath me. All of his buddies had taken off after seeing the backup we had, leaving him on his own.
"Please " Came the whispered begging, "Please No more "
I no longer felt fear strike through me when I looked at him. None of the loathing and hate either. Just pity.
Pity for the coward under my mercy.
Why was I so afraid of him in the first place? He had nothing but intimidation and look where that g
Thinking in ProgressI have so many things to tell you.
So many things I want to say to you.
Words that form in my head,
Day after day.
But for some reason
I just can't seem to speak them aloud.
So instead of letting these thoughts pour out,
Allowing the sound of my voice to fill the air,
I sit in silence with you.
I really want to talk to you about them.
I really do.
But sometimes I am afraid.
So very terrified of the consequences that could come.
If I just let one of the words slip out.
My worries, and hopes, and dreams
I wish to whisper them all to you.
So what the hell is stopping me?
The same thing that stops everyone in their tracks.
But I want to
But I can't.
I want to!
Just give me a few minutes, a few seconds.
Really, that's all I need.
Just a little bit of time to think it over.
I'll tell you everything, I promise.
I just have to remember how to be brave again.
A Friend's PresenceThe second I laid eyes on her, I knew. I could tell from the way she moved, the way she smiled at my arrival, from the very way she breathed. But mostly, I could see it in her eyes. They were dark, not a single light to them.
I was instantly drawn to her. This was not right. She never let her weakness show, especially not in public. Not like this. She was in too much control for that. I glanced around as I sat by that miserable figure, looking for anyone else who may catch her weak moment.
No one else had noticed, or maybe they couldn't. Maybe she only saved this specific pain for me, and only me. She was skilled enough to only let her emotions filter through to me, which made this situation much more urgent.
Her smile turned to one of relief, and she breathed in my scent, trying to take comfort from it. I opened my mouth to ask a question, what it was I didn't know, but she stopped me with another look.
She leaned in close, resting her head on my shoulder. I could feel the weight of i
A Letter for YouDear Reader,
You there. Yes, you. The one reading this letter. I have a question for you.
How are you?
Answer truthfully now, none of that "fine" nonsense. Believe me, I've pulled it off enough to see right through it.
Alright? Good? Terrible?
Well, here's another question:
Do you have a Valentine?
I apologize to those of you who hate that question. The ones that avoid the eyes of the questioner and murmur a quiet "No, not this year Again "
To those of you who squealed in delight or smiled at the thought of your love, I congratulate you on being lucky enough to find that special someone.
For the ones whom despise Valentine's Day and everything it encompasses, grit your teeth and bear through it, it's only once a year after all.
And to all of you who fall in between, have a very happy Valentine's Day.
But I have message for all of you, something that applies to each and every one;
To the single ones, the desperate ones, the in-love ones, the couldn't-care-les
A Dare for Artists EverywhereWhat writer doesn't want to share his
Thoughts, ideas, and dreams?
What painter refuses to pick up the brush
And show the world her mind?
Everybody has something to say.
Everybody has something they believe in.
So the question is
What do you believe in?
What gets your heart pounding?
What do you want to shout out to the entire world?
What do you have to say?
I have something to say.
Tell me what's important to you.
Tell me what you'd fight for to the very ends of the earth.
Tell me your dreams.
Do you want world peace?
Or maybe you just want your protagonist to make it safely home?
Do you want to make a difference?
Do you want to tell a story?
Tell me anything.
Tell me everything.
What goes through your head on a daily basis?
I want to know.
Whether it be through a few simple words, a picture, or a painting.
Let me see the world through your eyes.
I dare you.
A Traitor's Plea"Wait! Please, wait!" I ran after her, not able to keep up somehow despite the fact that she was merely walking. Maybe a part of me didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to know the truth, and kept my pace slow. I clenched my fists, gathering my courage, and finally reached her.
"Willow, Willow, please," I grabbed her arm, gently pulling her back, "Willow, please. You've been ignoring me for days. Please Talk to me."
Suddenly she whipped around, towering over me with anger in her eyes. "TALK to you?"
I cringed, knowing the worst was yet to come. But I kept my eyes on hers, knowing I deserved every terrible look and harsh word.
"Why? Why should I talk to you? After everything you did to ME!" Suddenly, as quickly as the blink of my eyes, she was standing normally again, crossing her arms and keeping a cool gaze on me, but the anger was still there, hiding behind her green irises.
"You betrayed me." Three words. Three words was all it took to cut me to the core.
The worst part was
Small and GoldTick
It looked worn and faded,
The gold turning into a silver shade.
But still had this new quality about it
That I couldn't quite shake off.
She told me she takes it everywhere with her.
I still don't understand why.
She has a watch, a cell phone, along with clocks everywhere.
Why carry this useless thing around with her?
I frown at the inside.
The time is the same as before.
Not accurate. Stuck in the past,
About two hours behind.
What's the point?
It made a soft clicking noise when closed,
A faint little sigh.
And the weak chain made a jingling noise
Every time it moved.
Now it's back in her hands,
And she's looking down at it
With such a happy expression,
Along with one of relief.
As if she couldn't bear parting with it for that long.
Why do you carry i
Precious SnowflakeSmall and Fragile
Like a snowflake in the air.
The kind of beauty that makes you stop
And take a breath.
It's not the normal kind of beauty,
The kind that models strive for.
It's something far different,
Something much more precious.
And so much harder to come by.
You can't see it right away.
It's hidden beneath layers and layers.
Patience must be found and utilized properly
If you wish to view this raw beauty.
It's not perfect,
Far from it.
And yet all the dents and scratches on it
Are what make it so lovely.
When I first saw it in her
That tiny little glimpse
I couldn't believe it.
But after thinking it through,
I've become determined to seek it out
And find it in her again.
It's taken so long
And yet I've barely cracked the surface.
I only get to see glimpses.
Little holes that I can peek into,
Before she notices the slip in her protection
And quickly patches it back up.
She fights silently against me,
The kind of habit that sticks
From too much practice.
The Author and Alice.I swear that I try though even my best work is insufficient. No matter how bright and magical those thoughts are that dance around my brain, I am never fully capable to portray them to you. Not faithfully anyhow. I solely wish that I could, for these ideas of mine are so precious that they fill me with a pure sensation of happiness and glee. They dance around my mind with all their might. But for now, knowing that you love and appreciate the poor relocation of these living dreams is enough. I thank and love you for it, despite my incompetence and inability to fully comprehend what you find so great about whatever it is that I produce but just for you I enclose this:
Falling through the hole,
A sweet little girl is lost,
Gone to Wonderland.
Looking for freedom,
She is searching for herself,
With unlikely friends.
Questions are sparked,
Wondering through Wonderland,
Who's this little girl?
She's finding herself,
In the most unlikely place,
She has freed herself.
It's time to leave now,
The Long Way to Say GoodbyeDear Forget-Me-Not-Eyes,
It seems like with you gone I'm wordless, like you plucked each vowel and consonant from my mouth and left me tongue tied, trying to make up a new language just to reach you. I've spent months counting the things I've done wrong and the stories I've forgotten and all the ways I could say those two words that to you, don't seem to mean a single thing.
I'm left with memories of cornstalk hair wound as tight as my nerves and a tongue like quicksilver every time I hear your name. I remember those things you said, the things I forgave you for time and time again and my eyes prickle and my hands clench, making half moons in my palms that make me think of all the stories you've read that said the moon holds magic. But fairytales don't exist and our story certainly didn't have a happy ending. Now, the moon just reminds me of nothing but the venom-laced messages you sent me late at night, the words stupidselfishhopelessI'mdone burned into my eyelids, h
Everything I Want To BeI want to write something poignant and moving.
It will make you cry and make you laugh.
It will win awards and give me prestige.
It will change someone's life.
I want to write something hilarious and heart-wrenching.
It will make and break relationships because of realizations of truth.
It will make you think differently than before you cracked open the first page.
It will make you want to read it again and again and again.
I want to write something that means something.
It will be translated into language after language, copy after copy published.
It will be read in schools, but the kids will actually enjoy it. Even after the thing is analyzed to death.
It will make them stop to think.
I want to write something real.
But don't we all, I suppose?
IdentitySome days I tell people to call me Alloen
because it's easier than being me.
Those days, I spend my time slitting
my wrists and pressing them into
the cold dirt beneath the
hydrangea bushes just to
give life to something;
I wear dresses covered in
flowers, and hold a wrought iron
mirror in my hands, spin one, twice,
three times and laugh until I
collapse on the ground, an
asthmatic heap of wilting roses;
I brush my hair one hundred times
until it brushes my hips and catches
the sun, until my eyes turn blue as
the spring sky and flickers like
the fireflies we caught in jars
when we were five and smeared
on our arms to see if
we could shine, too.
I am from Pennsylvania,
others I am from Switzerland,
and sometimes I am from
a place no one's heard of.
I lay in bed and
don't come out until
the fireflies do.
I write letters
to a girl named Jessica,
who lives in New Jersey and
carries her heart in her hands.
Fifty-Three DaysI remember the day we dug our graves,
In which, we'd spend those fifty-three days
Surrounded by those who wished us harm
High up on that barren hill lacking in charm
We dug them two feet deep,
Six feet wide,
In which we could safely sleep,
And from bullets hide
During the day temperatures soared
Our skin would blister when bare skin touched rock
At night it drastically dropped
And we returned to our shallow graves
All except one, who wearily gazes
Down on the green valley below
Where we sometimes tread, but fear to go
Monotony ate at us day after day
A lull had come, our cares went away
And then with a patience, that I've seldom found
The enemy laid something deadly in the ground
Where we went to wash our clothes
You can guess where this story goes
My dear friend lost his legs
Yet, they would never directly engage
Next came the sniper fire
Hidden in dense brush, and harassing us with constant misfire
But eventually he hit a friend of mine
The bullet entered at the bottom of his spine
I Am Afraid
I am afraid;
Afraid you'll go away,
Away from me.
I am scared;
Scared that you'll push me
Away from you, and
Away from what you do.
I am frightened;
Frightened that I am not good enough,
That I'm not strong enough,
That you despise me.
I am panicked;
Do you hate me?
What I am?
How I act?
I am terrified;
Because I know you don't like me,
My personality that of a monster,
Who would want to date an ogre?
I am discouraged;
You yell at me,
You tell me I'm not as good as him,
What makes him special?
I am upset;
You call me a coward,
A narcissist, a manipulative beast,
A behemoth of treachery;
What can I do?
I am petrified;
But then there's a light,
And with might,
You guide me back to right.
I am confused;
You sing me lullabies,
You bring me gifts,
and our rifts
Were they real?
I am worried,
Worried that this won't last,
That I will go back to the past,
And that of the cost?
The person I love the most.
Forever YoungIf you could live forever, would you take that chance?
Imagine, watching your own life from afar.
Remembering the heartbreak and the tears,
Seeing all the people who left you with scars;
Coming to terms with your hidden fears.
Remember the day when you said to me,
"I want to die young or live forever."
Surely after all these years, you can see
You cannot simply wish for whatever.
Because every time I see you cry,
I'm reminded of just how much I love you.
How could you possibly wish to die?
If only you knew, if only you knew
Do you really want to live forever?
This Is The End, My Beautiful FriendA dark wind blows
among the fallen trees.
A lone figure in the distance,
Fallen to her knees.
A broken girl
that lays amoung the grass and the dead leaves.
feeling nothing but regret
for what she couldnt be.
And as the hurt
runs through her heart.
And sorrow in her veins.
She cannot think of anything
that could ever ease her pain
The salty tears run down her face,
As she try's to remember.
The simple day that changed her life,
that beautiful november.
That rainy night they fell in love,
deep beneath the stars.
He wrapped his arms around her tight,
Protecting her like bars.
The only time she truley felt,
anything at all.
He was everything she wanted,
God had answered her call.
And as reality drifted back to her,
She closed her eyes and screamed.
"What happened to us, my only love"
She was bursting at the seems.
Emotions filled her suddenly,
An urge she cant control.
A strange empyness in her heart,
yet a burning in her soul.
She couldnt breathe, She couldnt talk,
she couldnnt feel a thi
My head knows the maladies of the heart.
Beneath your fragile frame, hidden betwixt ribcages and lattice-lined bone structures, inside your very core- deeper than marrow, inside the nucleus of each and every one of your cells, you are unfurling.
Little Bulimic, you plunge, delve, and curl, spilling impurities on your dress Christmas Eve, a premonition quaking in your bones. You spew words, implicit truths that bubble up your throat and out your mouth, rupture your esophagus and swallow them back up; your lips hemic from polished claws and screaming ulcers.
Little Masochist, you rip open flesh with pinched knives and blades, jam your fingers inside and taste your life. It tastes like decade-old pennies smeared with rust- spent, haphazard, mortified.
Little Gossamer Girl, you are unfurling. Cadaverous body and emaciated bones coming undone, peeling back your flesh to reveal snakeskin, rough and raw- you have shut down your heart and coiled your trachea, cut off the oxygen
Beautiful SoulAll those words you say about yourself,
When you say you're not a good person,
All that nonsense that comes out of your mouth,
I never believe any of it.
I know you.
You are a kind and sweet person.
But you only show this side to the select few you hold close to your heart.
I don't think even you see it.
It is something subtle and quiet,
And yet still strong and steady.
It's so beautiful.
Those people who assume and judge at first glance,
They don't see the precious thing they have right in front of them.
Deny it all you want.
I'll argue with you all day and night about it.
I see this precious person I have in front of me,
And I'm not letting go.
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
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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