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Changes ComeOn that hill that day, as the sun swallowed the sky whole in its warm light, she stood. The warm evening breeze playing with the long stands of her hair as the tiny butterfly hair-clip tried desperately to hold together what strands had not managed to escape its clutches. She turned her head slightly to acknowledge my presence and smiled once her eyes provided her with the proof she needed. Her smile however, wasn’t the smile that I had grown so accustomed to, it seemed more like a memory of a smile that she tried desperately to bring up. It was then, in the bright summer evening, on the hill that we used to spend all of our after-school hours in, that I realized that the girl standing in front of me was not the one with the smile that rivaled the warmth of the sun. It was then that I realized that she was broken, that her heart had been trampled on and her body used.
We sat down, back to back, under our favorite tree that had now proudly started advertising names of young and ol
That One Fleeting MomentI try to remember you time and again but my memory betrays me so easily these days. Your picture comes to me but in a hazy blur, like a dream dreamt too much. It feels like your stay in my mind has over extended itself and is slowly trying to fade away into the recesses of my mind, slowing blurring away. I can remember your hair, how softly they fell to your shoulders and that tiny butterfly hairclip that tried so hard to keep it in place. I remember you smile and how warm I felt just watching your happiness overflow onto me. I remember a lot of things, things that I know aren’t important anymore, like how the trees danced with the wind that one chilly November night. I remember that make of the car that sped by so fast it has difficult for us to see, I remember that street-dog calling out to his friends but I can’t bring up for face, in all its entirety. This is all I can do now, all I can do is write to keep that memory of you alive.
I remember that night we spent on the
To an EndI want to be part of a festival and see hope spring anew. I want to watch as the night burns into day, I want to see little babies with tired eyes wake up to the brightness of the sun. I want to watch buildings rise, from the nothingness to the monolithic beauty of human achievement. I want to listen to folk singers tell their tales of days gone by. I want to run through a field of nothing only to find life budding at the roots. I want to be something, something more than a carcass of a man, more than just the envelope to an important message. I want to be like the night lights that sparkle like diamonds on a sea of darkness, I want to be that hope that keeps a broken man running. I want to live like the jaybird that sings because it has beauty to admire. I want to be someone who inspires, more than a thought, more than an idea.
But there is no beauty for me anymore, there is no sliver-lining. There are no lights that shimmer like diamonds, no stars that shine so bright. No air that br
And Now I Think of YouI miss you more today, more now than ever, more here. Fifteen days away from you and my heart cries out for release, my mind gets fogged up and my heart threatens to break out of my ribs. I long to explore those familiar mountains on your body; follow those light marks on your skin. I want to run through your lanes, marvel at the night lights that glow like fireflies through your alleyways. I miss you, I miss your cold breath on my skin, I miss all those strangers that I’ve known, all the people that I’ve grown to love. I want to grow to love your mysterious ways again, I want to taste the spices on your tongue again, I want to grow familiar with you again. I want to savor your food, want to taste your sweet sweet breath again. I miss you more, today more than ever, here more than at home.
She smiled that familiar smile that faded with every wave I waved, her happiness glowing colder with every swing. Her eyes sing a song that my being can never forget and in a moment that
OnceOnce I thought I could rule the world. Once I thought I could grow, like the branches of a tree always seeking out the sun. Once I thought I could be anyone. I thought I could sweep the table clean, thought I would wipe the white dust off the black. Thought I could climb higher and marvel in its grandeur. Once I thought I could rise like the rays of the morning sun. Once I thought I could shine like the lights in a diamond only for the trained eye to see. Once I thought I could survive, like roots always seeking out life. Once I thought I could always find my way back home. I thought I could rise, like the smokes of cigarette long forgotten. I thought I could fall, like the rain, always on the certainty of the earth. Once I thought I could fly, without wings. Thought I could find places to hide, places to turn in the mask. Once I thought I could see for miles. Once I thought I could be, more than what I am, more than what I wanted to be. Once, I thought I could be magnificent.
Unspoken ConversationsShe rested her head on my shoulder and spoke to me that night, as the night slowly drooped into darkness and silver star-dust sprinkled itself like ambers across the cold night sky. She spoke of days gone by, of childhood lost and redreamt, of lingering love lost, of better days to be lived, of the darkness. She told me about the little sparkle in the corner of her eye, of the little fold on her cheeks everytime she smiled, of the little man with the clenched fist that ruled the chambers of her heart. She spoke of the broken-winged bird caged but singing for freedom, of the pianist with broken fingers and a masterpiece on his mind, of the little girl with bombs to be dreamt. Our souls fused into one that night, as the lonely street dog started to sing, as the lonely man with skin drooped with age sent out a heavy sigh into the emptiness of his empty room, as the lonely young boy with tear-stained cheeks cried for a mother in a sea of wolves. She told me about her fears, about the queas
A Greater SorrowYou came to me in my dream last night and my heart slowed. You were as radiant as I remember, full of life smiling a smile too big for that little mouth of yours. You weren’t doing anything special, just standing there, in a light too bright for my eyes but I didn’t look away. Even if the light burned my corneas, I wouldn’t look away. Maybe that part of me turned numb at the sight of you, the part that told me that I was in pain. The hole that my heart had learnt to skip over, the hole that had drown my life in.
There were so many things I wanted to ask, so many answers that had floated within the dark chasms of my mind that I could never be sure. I wanted to talk to you then, like we’d never spoken before. I wanted to tell you things my mind wouldn’t. I want to relearn your existence to find those hidden valleys in your body again but you never came. I ran to catch up with you, ran with every molecule of my being but you never came any closer. I pleaded w
Numb“Why are we always so numb,” she said to me, watching the trees pass by. The autumn leaves were turning and the forest floor was a carpet of forgotten greenery. She didn’t turn to me as she spoke, she just eased into those words so effortlessly. Birds sang somewhere in the distance, a tree branch creaked, dogs barked.
“I think people are so busy in their own lives, so busy finding wealth, so busy trying to be someone that we turn numb to everything else. We have nothing, nothing to complete us, nothing to feel,” she said tapping the glass separating the outside world. Fumbling around the insides of her brown leather handbag, she produced a box of cigarettes. Flicking the flint of her lighter, she inhaled long only to breathe out a cloud of grey smoke. She slightly rolled the window down and the watched the cloud find freedom. “We are always filled with anger, with hate that we need to brush with people just to feel again. Feel, even if only for a sec
MusicThat night you sang to me, your words felt like a thousand unopened love letters. I told you stories like secrets and your chords stuck just the right corners of my heart. And i missed you then like I thought i never could, in those silences in between your songs. Your images flooded these old caverns of memories in my mind. And I knew I wanted to hold you like the moon does the sea. Those stars in the emptiness of the sky hanging like promises we never kept. Like promises lost in between those oblivion folds of time. Our souls like flickering flames of light, I traced your regrets like shadows in the night. And I wrote an ending then like the full stop that soon followed your music.
BoysContains: Gas fetishism. Female.
Liliana awoke to rain pattering against her apartment's window. She felt mild discontent.
She could see the overcast through the glass sliding door that lead to her balcony, moody gray light bleeding in at an angle. Liliana groaned.
Oh, the woman wished she could've gotten a few more moments of sleep, dozing off to the soft dripping of gloomy precipitation, but a hand trailing along her side alerted her-- no, reminded her of last night's events.
Calloused fingertips ran against her silky, tan skin, the palm cupping the fat of her hips before moving towards her inner thigh. She lay in the nude under the sheets, not a single garment or accessory on her besides the piercings in her navel.
A masculine grunt came from behind her as the rough hand attempted to make its way between her thighs, only for Liliana to growl and snatch his wrist. "You've overstayed your welcome," She muttered, narrowing her eyes. It was way too early for her to deal wi
ArminxBespectecled! ReaderHis ocean blue eyes stared at the girl, in un-withheld curiosity and admiration, from across the room. Her (E/C) shone bright and passionate like candles in the dead of night behind her large glasses, her (h/l) (h/c) swayed slightly as she sat down on the worn library couch, a heavy stack of books in her small and petite hand's. He couldn't help but find himself entranced by the way she gracefully set the dusty, leather bound books onto the oak wood table in front of her as if she's practiced it over and over. Her finger's, long and slender, nimbly maneuvered the books into neat piles before she chose one carefully to examine, a look of concentration gracing her face. She was beautiful. Armin honestly had no clue why so many people picked on her for having glasses.
The glasses only helped to add childish innocence to her features, highlighting her larg (e/c) eyes and making them pop and stand out as a large contrast with her (h/l) (h/c) locks. Her eyes where just gorgeous.
Two's company, three's a mistake"Alright... Now send me down the cable. Make sure the cover's still on the end so you don't get it all wet with your spit..."
"There we go, perfect. Now at least it won't be so boring in here."
The screen of a Nintendo DS flickered to life, illuminating the space surrounding it. A pudgy-hipped blonde girl with glasses sat cross-legged inside what was unmistakably someone's stomach, stylus between her lips as she focused intently on her video game. This was Chelsea, who, weeks ago, had been swallowed whole by the dorky stoner girl who sat in the back of her Calculus class and doodled in her notebook margins.
Now, in the warmth of June, she was sitting in that same stoner girl's stomach, a blush on her face as she tried to ignore the nagging feeling of excitement she'd been working on forgetting about for a while now. She managed to keep her attention on the game and off of her temporary captor's warm stomach - and outside the bloated belly, its owner belched rudely and cove
Peace RestoredIn the cities they were beginning to tally the cost of victory, gained at last after years of destructive struggle.
Surveyors were already appraising the mutilated buildings, Managers were directing the necessary demolition of building shells that remained precariously upright. Gangs of the brawnier survivors were using rubble to fill the pot-holes in the roads. Some of the labourers working had been drafted in,part of the first deployment of troops awaiting demobilisation now part of the Army Of Reconstruction.
From the city council down, everyone was eager to erase the evidence of a madness, a grotesque mutual insanity that had laid waste to the civilisation of a continent, spawning numberless tribes of orphans.
There were reunions. Grizzled men, who had been living on time borrowed at they knew not what rate of interest, were beginning to return, seeking information about the survivors of their clans and families .These men, who had played their part in the destruction of thei
the sky's soothsayer.“the stars are the souls of our fallen ancestries,”
my youngest sister would insist.
“look,” she pointed with her gloved hand.
“it’s mumma and papa, floating up there in the sky!”
she giggled, falling to her knees with her gloved hand to the sky,
blue eyes bright and curtained by blond locks.
the timepiece upon my wrist was blue
with the nasty british weather and the bleeding
blue ink from my calligraphy pen.
i held in my hands my wanderings of the sky, all recorded in a single notebook.
“what a waste,” i mumbled, a shiver rolling down my spine. “such violent weather,”
i coughed into my handkerchief and tried to assess the stars once again.
my mouth twisted into a scowl as my vision was obstructed
by the tongues of blackened clouds,
angry and full of disgust.
it was growing awfully late and
it didn’t seem the sky was going to clear anytime soon.
march was the month, so the rains were expected,
but i su
Words and DreamsI create, I imagine, I write. I bring eloquent memories to life, tell stories about beautiful girls with hearts that would melt in the summer sun, talk about nature in fascination. I am a creator, I breathe life into people and plan memories like an architect constructing a complex ideological heart that beats like the ones in real life and breaks like the ones in real life. I can create eyes that curve like the beautiful eyes of newborn kittens, I can write about the warm breath of a teenage girl, I can bring back people that have already turned into ashes and blown with the wind but always in dreams.
I die, a little, every time I write. My heartbreaks every time my fingers long for the familiarity of a pencil, my eyes swell every time my mind longs for escape. Where are the people I long to create? Where are the people I spend hours of my time breathing life into? Where are the beautiful girls whose hair smells like oranges and whose eyes shine like the millions of stars in the sky?
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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