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Catching the SkyI once saw a little girl,
Armed only with a plastic bag and a smile,
Who was determined to catch the sky.
Her gaze was ever upwards,
Convinced that raindrops could solve the world’s problems,
And happiness was the catalyst.
The formula was foolproof,
All you had to do was smile and look upwards,
Then present a bag to catch the sky.
Creativity's EndIf memory serves
Your gray hips
And failing back
Scribed in ink
And proudly displayed
Under starless nights.
If memory serves
You started fading
Your graying body
And fragile hands
Couldn't carry worlds
How could they
You could barely
Lift a spoon.
Hitting the MarkMy love cannot be taken for an object
For she is my arm in places I cannot reach
And my eyes in places I cannot see.
She demands perfection out of everything
For she is a delicate and fickle soul
And even the slightest shift will harm her.
I can feel her roll into my shoulder
Her cheek gently brushing up against mine
While my hand runs down the length of her arm.
We know each other better than anyone else
And I can't help but gaze into her eyes longer than usual
But she is patient and precise so I take my time.
Our hands lock firmly but not too tight
The target in clear sight now she takes the shot
And she is never one to miss.
Random Story PitchesA Splash of Color
Synopsis: In the newly developing colonies of North America, a land meant for any and all, a family is just setting foot into what they believe will be a fresh start for them all. Now you may be asking yourself right about now, what is so significant or special about this family that out of everything happening right now, we focus on them? Well to tell you the truth, this family is in no way significant, and under normal circumstances they would just blend right in; but that’s contradictory to the title, now isn’t it? One very lucky member of this ordinary family named Mary Williams will inherit one of the most extraordinary and colorful gifts that has ever been created. What she does with this magnificent gift, however, is her own choice, and this omnipotent voice is just itching to see what happens.
Mary Williams (Main protagonist/antagonist)
Lucy Andrew (Mary’s best friend)
John Doe (Bearer of the gift)
Mom & Dad (Mary’s parents)
ChildlikeThere once was a time where
Paper planes and water balloons
Were all it took to make a kids day
They helped you carry your unmarked baggage
Then maybe forget it at the checkpoint
Because you're a kid, and you get to be forgetful sometimes
But that time has been proclaimed long dead
Ever since happiness grew from a wavelength
But that doesn't mean we can't still have a guilty pleasure
Made of paper planes and water balloons.
ForgetfulSometimes, the woven mess that is my brain
Decides to go on vacation,
And I can’t seem to remember who I am.
Because sometimes we lose ourselves
When we’re finding ourselves,
It happens more out of necessity than coincidence.
So when I’m forgetting what I was
And remembering who I’ll become,
I’ll remember that forgetfulness isn’t all bad.
A MemoirNow recently, I’ve been getting the same question no matter where I go, even if I know the person. They’ll look me dead in the eye and say: “who ARE you?” I’ll calmly return the gaze and without missing a beat tell them what they want to know. “Well my good man, if you do insist so voraciously, allow me to first tell you that I was born in the winter of 1994. Some called me a miracle but I like to think of myself as a happy coincidence, since nine months prior to my birth two members of my gene pool may have been getting their freak on. After this miraculous coincidence, nothing happened in my life until the ripe age of three. This is when I learned that if you run off when your mother isn’t looking, she probably won’t notice until you’ve snuck into an empty elevator bound for the top floor of a hotel. I also learned not five minutes later, that she’ll find you when she hears your sobs of terror getting louder and louder as th
G:Something StrangeFor the first time in my
Something purely curious has happened
Something terrifying, yet fantastic.
With each passing breath
I want to reach out and touch it,
To question its tangibility
To see if it's really there, or just my deluded mind.
But do I really care
Whether something so curious,
Is really real when it teases
All the while remaining so... Intriguing.
Positively GlowingDown in a daisy-strewn valley in the middle of nowhere, lay a humble town with humble people and quite humble houses. The weather was nice and the townsfolk even nicer; they’d give their life for a stranger in need. At the same time every day, darkness was drawn over this quaint little town, with men and women alike turning in to rest their sleepy little heads. Not a sound was heard in the middle of the night; the wind was calm and even the mice had curled up to bed. But there was always one light on at the end of the block, a blinding beacon to all who dared to look out at the foreboding sight.
It was an unearthly glow, like one straight out of a movie or haunted house. The house itself wasn’t natural, with its crooked wooden shingles and rusted iron bars and door; it resembled a prison more than it did a house. No one dared to make advances on the house, let alone tear it down, despite how uneasy the light made the townsfolk each night. They just kept on with their daily
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
YouIf you’re a girl, you’re a girl.
If you’re a boy, you’re a boy.
If you’re white, you’re white.
If you’re black, you’re black.
If you’re gay, you’re gay.
If you’re bi, you’re bi.
If you’re straight, you’re straight.
If you’re religious, you’re religious.
If you’re an atheist, you’re an atheist.
If you’re mentally disabled, you’re still human.
If you’re physically disabled, you’re still human.
For everything you are:
So who are they to judge you for who you are?
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
Leave and ThinkLeave with what you know,
Entire continents watching,
Observing and judging the freak.
Kindness more of a gift than a courtesy,
Incrimination the only constant,
Killing off what isn't needed.
Exhausting the mind over time,
Ratifying whatever cannot be controlled.
Oscillating at speeds unknown,
Creating something crazed yet tame,
Tempering emotions while ripping them away.
Offending to the snob on high,
Bewildering to the commoner below,
Ebbing away at basic sanity,
Respecting nothing just to leave an empty shell.
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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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