And maybe in time,
Even I'll believe the lie.
So let's sweep it aside
And lock it deep inside,
And, let them belie-
Ve the pretended 'alright.'
ReflectingSo, when did we become strangers,
did you forget my face?
Do you know-
of course you don't, but do you know-
that I miss you,
I remember the fun times,
stupidity of our days together,
I still think of you
and the family;
and even that silly little crush
did you forget?
do you hide it away like a forgotten
because, on the inside,
you're too ashamed to admit,
you're not who you wanted
ObligationsWhat are these trinkets to me?
Obligations held to
Obligations tied in the mire
of a past quickly fading,
Why should I subject myself
To your tedious obligations,
To your restrictions,
in weighted shackles?
So I say,
What are these obligations to me,
Except things to be misplaced,
And gather the Dust of Bitterness?
I say they're ties,
and that I'm going to cut them away.
Why should I submit myself to
when you rejected my Love?
Cotton candy skiesAnd you know the pain:
You see it
can feel it,
Written over every orifice of the world,
Let it eat away at your soul as you watch
Your vapidly sentient
Capacity for action
Eroding away with every cell
This virus infects.
So you run,
Turn to apathy
And sit looking at the
Cotton candy clouds
A midst a burning backdrop,
And you hide this pain,
Like it doesn't exist--
Not in you
nor the world
nor in the minds of people
that you can see living it every
You run to the emptiness of pleciboed
Living on the internet,
Indulging in fantasy and pretend,
Living as if
still a child in Wonderland,
Forgetting you need to breathe air.
Yes you sit before a burning
Backdrop, a prelude to the end
of cotton candy skies,
And repress the existence
of this reality in-leu of
of the semblance of
Can I [part 1]Can I love you?
Can we take it back
in the dead of night-
To the way you'd
Can we take it back-
back to the iridescence that shown
in our eyes as we
lay back in the dark,
Can I love you?
Can I listen again,
To that mellifluous tone
That escapes your lips when you speak?
Can we rewind to when
I meant something to you-
when you weren't just pretending,
when I wasn't
just there for your personal
Can I love the way you used me-
-how the morning light was like
the lock to a treasure chest,
and the treasure it contained
Like just one more instrument
To be finley played-
the smiles we had glanced
across the table at dinner,
speaking our language,
our hushed tones igniting
quirked eyebrows from the others
and our own hard-silenced snickers.
Can I love you,
in this dark feeling,
lying here drowning in the quick-sand
while I try to fall asleep,
Can I love you,
when the scorched sun br
This autogenous iniquity-
the cacophony of sin
It bites and
Your antiquated conduct
shall find no place
In this world,
No rest inside these bounds.
Go on then,
Cry your heart to pieces-
and lacerate your soul.
Soft, to the degree of
Incising upon that inner you,
That softness with which
Your mortal soul now burns,
Dirtied with that softness,
Tender-hearted pain of empathy,
soft and hush
As it reverberates through your
As you feel your failings
each claiming a piece of you
with more rapidity than
Let the tears come-
so soft so soft-
and burn an antiquated brand,
deep into your soul.
As the empathetic scars
Breed lace into your heart.
For whatever has been done-
no man controls the past so let it
Now let it lie,
Be it burning with the
Assignment TwoA suitable grad-gift.
Wrapped in expected 'congrats!' tissue
paper, extended in love from the hands of a friend.
But, it isn't just a picture frame-
Special, because the hand-spun-silk, woven-cotton-soft
In brilliant crimson holds the pictures
You, and me, your smile so ambiguous,
Like the Cheshire's grin.
assignment oneLove is a hurricane,
inside your irises.
An acrid storm,
Exploding within your eyes.
Love is soft
even. Malliable when in
a sculptor's hands,
Such as your own.
So like the shifting water:
Frozen to solid,
Melted to liquid,
Or released as vapor.
Love is an idea,
Transparency that transgresses
The BeachThe beach is cold and stings
As dainty little feet walk across the sands,
That time has been unable to mar.
The sun is just a glow over the
Mist hangs in the air, footprints are left in the sand.
Nothing has changed.
The world could be thrown into darkness,
Buildings could crumble, people could die,
Or a job could be lost,
Or a house need repainting. It could be
A family argument, and tension among friends.
It could be the shadow in the doorway, a knife in it's hand,
Haunting your dreams again.
But the sands on the beach would still be unmarred by the
Cruel hands of time.
His love in you would be a butterfly of hope,
As the world was ending. His embrace
Would be a comfort in the midst of the dead.
The lost job will roll off his shoulders,
As he cracks a joke to make you laugh, because,
He lives for your laugh.
And he'd make a game, of the trivial task of house
Work, so that even though you both hated it,
It would be time you'd be together.
The family argument he would
The Adjustment BeauroI doubt you'll ever understand,
Just how worthless,
You make me feel.
You leave me with,
After each segment ends.
Maybe it's your nature,
Maybe the 'Adjustment
Beauro' just decided
We shouldn't be a we,
But you'll never understand
One way or another.
So I guess
I'll let you rip me apart.
I'm not good for anything else.
Coffee Shop MemoirsPhilosophers think
We may dream our reality.
With earphones attached liked IVs
I dream my own melodic universe.
Until someone laughs behind me
And strikes up conversation with a friend.
And in that moment they become my anchor
Are they spinning through my dream
Or am I spinning through theirs?
Sometimes life fits in a coffee cup,
Sometimes inspiration pours out slowly like a packet of honey,
And sometimes it all mixes together
Like liquid incandescence that I drink right after brewing.
When no one speaks to me for hours
I begin to wonder
Is everyone dreaming a reality that includes
The whole café but me?
The street outside the window
With passing strangers, dogs and cars
Is a whole new Milky Way
Waiting to be discovered.
But I am no space explorer
Aliens are beyond my reach.
Whispers of the people around
Reach my ears distinctly
Like waves lapping on the shore.
Words on paper go no way
Towards proving that I was ever here
My identity is slowly condensed
Not into the people who kno
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Sex Object Between her legs, lies something that
every man seems to want.
A place where she should be able
to call her own, between her legs.
She feels that men only want her,
a true want, to have sex with her, and
The breasts she has, they gain
stares from men passing by, tripping
over themselves to find a chance to touch.
When will she stop being looked at,
as an object of sex? when will a man
see her as someone he may spend his
Her hips curve, and she doesnt
want your hands on them, if your
just going to touch her skin.
She wants a man to touch her soul,
not just touch her skin, and run his fingers
where they do not belong.
What made these men think, she
is just a sex object, a toy that could be
put on display, and taken whenever they
Between her legs, lies something that
every man seems to want.
Proud she is though, that she hasnt
given in, hasnt
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”
Why do this love this web comic, you ask?
Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,
or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.
It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)
or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)
Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)
but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)
We really do love Sollux’s lisp,
and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)
Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,
it's also Rose's amazing magic.
How about when Dave starts rapping
and Jade Harley begins napping?
We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,
and how John is such an adorable guy.
Or maybe it’s with all the sprites
or how prospit glows bright.
Can’t forget about Derse’s darkness
or Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)
There’s also this thing with Tav and stairs
which he t
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the Knight
Whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the Knight,
Whose armor is dull and broken.
Whose horse is weary,
Whose heart is heavy.
Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,
For that dragon has done nothing,
And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.
Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,
By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,
But wants to free the dragon,
Who does not wish to marry her savior--
Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,
Who wants to live and to learn.
For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,
Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,
But to see the world and live in the light.
Do not give me the evil dragon,
Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.
No, give me the dragon who is weary,
Who longs for the freedom of the sky,
Whose leg is burdened with chains,
And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,
heart brokenIn my dreams
It was me in your arms
My lips on yours
There was only us
And the clouds
And the stars
It was the world and us
It was us against the world
But in your arms I could take it
Anything the world dished out
And with your kisses I was strong again
In my dreams it was me in your arms
My lips on yours
But in reality
It's always been her
i met a girl today
who was not golden-haired or blue-eyed,
who was not straight-nosed or full-lipped,
who was not long-legged or slender.
instead i met a girl
who sang full-bodied notes in both soprano and alto,
who spoke like a king and walked like a queen,
who had a body curved like the moon.
and that was okay.
i met a boy today
who was not muscular or broad-shouldered,
who was not charming or charismatic,
who was not tall or dark or handsome.
instead i met a boy
who had a memory like an elephant,
who wrote like an angel and drew like Monet,
who could churn out sums like a calculator.
and that was okay.
take a good look in the mirror:
and remember that what you see—
the imperfections and perfections;
the roll of love around your stomach;
the diverging forks at the ends of your hair;
the delicate sprinkles on the bridge of your nose
—is only one layer of who you are,
all of it
(all of you)
is okay, too.
AnimeAs soon as i saw Anime on Tv I was happy to see it played,
I Like inuyasha, FMA, Naruto and many others but why?
At 34 years old loving anime, isn't this strange?
Loving Anime is loving someone
You cherish it forever
Until You die but Anime is Amazing what they can do today..
Its in 2-D, 3-D and CG's But no matter what,
Anime to me will always cherish me into my heart and soul
When i was younger Anime never existed,Why?
Anime will stay into the younger kids today,
Anime will rule the world maybe someday?
What can you do not without a pencil today?
You Can draw Anime,
You Can always give you're best shot to draw even if you're not good enough,
True isn't it?
You can put Anime on Tv, on a website about everything,Anime Kick Butt.
Insomnia-A dark nursery rhyme
I see you've come
to play again
lodged here in my soul so tight
turning brightness into night
please let me sleep
to never wake….
…now I lay me down to sleep
my life in tatters at my feet..
if I should Wake before I die
I pray these tattered wings can fly..
I never want to feel again
trapped here in this world so cold
where self is wrong
and Us is gold.
how i wonder why i'm here..