Dusty fingers move quickly,
When they are sickly.
Clean Fingers make haste,
because they don't have the time to waste.
Lopsided FeelingTears run down my face, I cry
Inside and out but you dont know why
It because of your skull of steel
That my thoughts dont turn your wheel
Im weakened and starved by your words
But that doesnt meant Ill allow my flesh to be eaten by the birds
I amI am the child that waits
I am the child that fears
I am the child that worries you'll never be here.
I am the teen that hits
I am the teen that cries
I am the teen who is always asking 'Why?'.
I am the adult that works
I am the adult that fears
I am the adult of the child that waits for me to be there.
Excerpt From FB Fan-FictionThree hundred sixty two days, Kyou reminded himself with an indifferent voice.
The cat couldnt figure out that out of everyone that he could never see again, why did she have to go. Why did she have to leave him in the shadows. Why couldnt she stay? Within his mind he kept replaying the scenario constantly over and over again in his brain even though he knew the answer. The carrot top shook his head fervently trying to shake the images of her delicate kind face from his head. He was foolish to love her, to care for her, and to try to protect her.
To try and defy God...
The wind blew solemnly tossing hair in his face. Closing his eyes he let stray strands of hair tickle his furrowed brow. Fat puffy grey beasts rolled around the sky soaking up its moisture, they growled with pleasure as they began to approach the Sohma residence. Just as the young man stood up and began to file out curses towards the clouds he heard the petite slam of a d
The Sleeping Beauty (Original Story/Uncensored)The prince approached the sleeping princess, who lay draped upon a velvet throne under a dais of brocade. He called out to her, but she seemed insensible, as if in a trance. As he contemplated her many charms, he suddenly felt his blood course hotly through his veins. The prince lifted her in his arms and carried her to a bed, whereon he gathered the first fruits of love while she slept on. When he was through, he left the princess, and returned to his own kingdom, where, in the pressing business of his realm, he thought no more of the incident.
The princess slept on for nine months, and when the nine months were up she gave birth to two beautiful infants, a boy and a girl. Throughout her pregnancy, the princess, whose name was Talia, had been attended by two fairies who now placed the infants at their sleeping mother's breasts. One of the children, unable to find the mother's nipples, sucked on Talia's finger, loosening the poison splinter that had lodged there when she pricked it on
Instructions for Being a Good GirlKeep a smile handy, along with your lipstick.
Squeeze your heart to fit in a top.
Walk on needles and don’t dare to trip.
Taste is a luxury, calories are unforgivable.
Those are the basic rules, got them all down?
Pick a face now.
You’re lucky, girls come in two models -
Vixen or virgin.
The measures are fixed, customize the colors,
But not too much.
No warranty, no exchange.
Remember, all women are witches.
It’s still a fact, even if a letter is changed.
The modern witch needs nothing but glamours.
These come prepackaged - beauty in a capsule, youth in a tube.
Running out? Sorry, thanks for playing,
Glamours are the currency for all your trades.
Witches come in two models - sexy or hag.
Let’s see, what am I forgetting?
Be helpful, “no” is the worst insult a person can hear.
Nod. Wave. Laugh at unfunny jokes.
Let others enjoy you.
And didn’t I tell you to smile already?
MasksEach of us wears a different mask
For daily use, and every task.
Knowing that, with the right face
We might fit in around the place.
Are they a real part of who we are?
Merely an aspect to help us get far.
Does the truth of the mask cover the lie
Make you feel good, or prompt you to cry.
They say that a mirror reflects in a different way
Dependant on the viewer to prompt what to say
But this simple saying hides the most obvious fact
That your own mirror image reflects your desperate act.
Its not always clear who is hurt most
The strangers, the friends, or you; the host.
Is this charade worth all the pain
When it’s not your true self that stands to gain.
Only we know whether it is through fear
That prompts us to make these false visages appear
But once they are there for all to see
Do you only become that which you appear to be?
Sexism - a story untoldI. A mother scorns her infant boy for
wearing a dress; the fresh print of a
hand mark glows on his cheek.
Meanwhile, his sister plays in shorts
II. Lunchtime and a child, no more than
twelve, hurries home early. Tears
smudge the sleeves of his favourite
shirt as he tries to muffle his sobs.
A girl hit him in the face, but boys must
III. Accused of sexual harassment, a
young man apologizes for complimenting
a lady at the bar. Somewhere in the
crowd, a girl pinches a stranger's bum
whilst her friends screech like hyenas.
She was only mildly flirting with him,
IV. In a restaurant, a woman insists her
date pays the bill. The following day,
he's accused of earning too much and
spending too little.
V. A man is pinned against the wall and
forced into sex. Even though he turns
away, he must enjoy it because he's
just a bloke. Women can't rape men - it
doesn't work like that.
VI. Somewhere in this world, a boy
holds the door open for his crush, a
Cold and empty, hollow sphere
No trace of loving affection there
Trapped inside this rolling ball
Must escape to experience it all
Great big void, nothing within
Internal argument on filling it in
Is this a losing battle fought in vain?
If I give in, what will I gain?
The Chain of Memories
~ Part and Meet
There is always sleep between part and meet,
with our usual words on the usual street.
So let us part like we always do...
And in a world without you,
I'll dream of you.
When I come to, let us meet
With our usual words on the usual street.
~ A Promise to Keep
Beyond the path without you,
is a forgotten promise to keep.
We may have walked side by side,
but now we go on back to back.
And though our paths may not cross,
all paths are connected somewhere.
When I arrive at where you are,
we may not appear to be as we were...
But we'll make another promise to keep.
That Black Week
Sunday under an ebony sky
I met you I don't know why
Monday was an ebony jewel
Timid was I. You were fiery cool
Tuesday I wore an ebony dress
You drawled, "Darling, I must confess…"
Wednesday in the wind's ebony embrace
Your eyes glowed darker than your face
Thursday you called me an ebony doll
Too short in sight, too far to fall
Friday you gave me an ebony kiss
I tingled and shuddered—you would be missed
Saturday standing by that ebony door
You smiled. I stared at the floor.
Sunday under an ebony sky
I saw you leave I don't know why
When your hands can mimic birdsWhen your hands can mimic birds,
you lose the need for sound.
A flight of words that bear no chirp
are none the less profound.
They don't perch on a pitch.
They don't possess the need .
They fly until you've seen their song,
then silently recede.
No one could find more freedom than
the freedom granted flight.
No one can see more beauty than in
words passed left to right.
The spirit of MarinesWhat is it in side of you?
That makes you walk when others has drop
And when the situation seems hopeless
You keep your faith and charges forward
We fight like it's the only thing we know
We fight with honor and courage
They can take away our lives
But our fighting spirit will live on
What is given can be easily taken away
But what we earn will be keep forever
Because we know great sacrifice
Must come before great glory
You will have to give it all you got
You will struggle and feel the pain
But when it is all said and done
You are the few the proud the Marines