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ShatteredShe remembers it now; there’s blood (oh yes she can remember the blood thick and red and sticky and dead) and pain (it’s what she is made of now what she will be) and the feeling of something inside her mind snapping like a guitar string (it’s a musical sound almost pretty she takes care of it and remembers the sound of unrepairable) shattering and bleeding and disappearing in tiny supernovas that leave behind a strange urge to smile and the icy knowledge that this is what she is; shattered.
She smiles into the darkness, eyes open but unable to see (they took care of that they did), arms wrapped around her torso and legs (at least the one she can move without pain she is pain why) pressed against her chest.
They turn on the light but it’s not them and she blinks as her eyes try to adjust to the brightness (it hurts so but she missed it why did she not remember) and they’re strangers (she doesn’t think she can trust them but her body is limp and her m
Love is CruelLove is cruel.
There is no doubt in my mind about this. Love is as cruel as it is kind.
It is the curve of her jaw and the silhouette of her face I study the most. she is lovely, free and happy as a bird and with the depth and beauty of a mountain lake 'neath a full moon. Sometimes the secretive veil of darkness pulls back and I am allowed to look at what resides deep down. I am captured; mesmerised by these brief glimpses of what makes her her.
I hang on to her words and her beautiful accent more than I let show. She is important to me; far more so than she knows. When she speaks I listen.
I love her. Fully and with all my heart, I love her. I do not know if she feels the way I do, but I pray she does. Love unreturned is a slow poison.
How BarrenHow barren, this land
Once home to thousands
How empty, these hands
Begging for food
How silent, the pantheon
Sworn to protect them
How unjust, the fate
Assigned to the poor
MonochromeA garden clad in darkness
With shadows all around
A beating heart of blackened stone
With veins of rubies crowned
A moving star crossing skies alone
The day is dead, the night has come
Vanilla swirls in bowls of blood
A taste of wild and tame
A figure in a darkened hood
Never quite the same
A howling moon so far away
The desert crawls with life today
Swimming in the river deep
An ancient beast is deep asleep
Buried treasure 'neath the tree
Not for mortal eyes to see
A pen on paper, scratching words
Monochrome, a page of blurs
Light in darkness, shining weak
Frightened children for it seek
Yet, once the fleeting light is found
Cold ashes resting on the ground
Sunrise over mountains high
A painter gives a grateful sigh
Quiet reigns where sound should be
A storm is raging silently
The scratching stops, the paper curls
A hand no longer with us furls
Whispers the WindWhispers the wind
In the hours of day
O'er the noise
Of life, as it passes
Whispers the wind
In the hours of night
In the silence
Of dark, as it passes
Whispers the wind
In the hours between
In changing light
And sound, as it rests
LightA being at the very edge of his vision was kneeling over the fallen human. It was weaving strands of glimmering light in a web over her chest, the thin threads passing through each other and sticking in seemingly random places as she worked. The fine weave pulsed gently as it hovered just above her chest save for where the being had delicately pressed one fingertip down to attach it to the dead woman. The being then wove the connected strands into each other, and soon one thin fiber of light was attached to each of the fingertips on her right hand. She raised her hand then, gathering the strands and gently pressing them to the palm of her hand before spreading her fingers out again, letting her hand hover in the air for a few moments. The body was lifted off the ground, only a few inches, as if the little light threads were puppet strings. The strands of light glowed brighter and the world seemed to hold its breath when she brought her hand down, fingers still spread and palm flat. The
Grey and silverIn a world of grey and silver
Colours muted by the fog
I stand silent in the snowscape
With a smile of grateful joy
I see the hidden beauty
In a bleak and quiet day
The lack of sound is calming
Wish it could stay this way
This landscape that I tell of
Is never far away
As fog and frost still rule the world
You'll see it too
I promise you
There Are SeashellsSoft sunlight
And the sound of waves
It’s a beautiful sight
So different from his
Final resting place
There are seashells here
Peacock BlueThe sky is blue. It’s a beautiful shade, the colour of peacock feathers. I stand on a green hill underneath a blue sky and smile at the warm, yellow sunlight.
A gentle breeze rustles in the leaves and tousles the long grass as I close my eyes. Soft footsteps sound behind me, slightly out of sync with the wind. That’s how I hear her.
She comes to stand beside me on the hill, and her top is a link between the sky and the grass, beautiful and green-blue. She smiles at me and I smile back.
“Thunderstorm’s coming,” she says. I nod.
We stand together and watch torn clouds the colour of bruised lead close over the peacock blue sky. Somewhere lightning flashes, the momentary flare of light illuminating her face and making her features stand out in sharp relief. I take her hand.
We will weather this storm together. Because behind wild clouds of bruised lead there is a sky the colour of peacock feathers and a warm, yellow sun.
Lucid DreamingSome people can control lucid dreaming. I've tried to learn how to do it myself, but I've failed each time. However, I do lucid dream, but it's random and involuntary.
I remember a dream where I was hanging out with Hermione Granger for some reason, and one of my teeth fell out. I have a lot of dreams about my teeth coming out or crumbling. Then a few more came out, and I showed them to her.
"Why do I always dream about my teeth falling out?" I asked her, and she pulled a book from out of nowhere, flipping through it.
"It's a sign of insecurity," she explained.
"Great," I laughed dejectedly.
I think that's one of the only lucid dreams I can remember having that wasn't a bad dream or a nightmare, which are the ones I've had most recently. The scariest part of the dreams, even if they're just mildly unpleasant, is being aware that you're in a dream.
In one, I was talking to a girl in the dormitory I was living in. For some reason, we were all on this huge boat that was sort of lik
Stay With Me (Dancing In The Moonlight) ‘Tonight you’re saving my life’
-The Gaslight Anthem.
I open my curtains and look at the world outside my window. White cloud dominates the sky leaving no suggestion of the blue behind it, no hint of the sun struggling to break through. As I stare at the beginning of a new day, my thoughts inevitably turn to him, as they always do. I wonder if he’s awake. I wonder if he’s thinking about me too. My heart beats just a little bit faster at the simple thought of him.
It’s strange to think how one person has grown to mean so much to me. Someone who, a year ago, I didn’t even know. But just as the white cloud has overwhelmed the sky above me, his love has encased my heart. So perfectly. So completely. A love that is so strong, that whenever we are apart, a veil of melancholy inescapably rests upon me. The hardest moments of my life are when we have to say goodbye to each other. The happiest are when we say hello.
In the last few months,
Teenagers - Male!Reader x NewStudent!Female!ReaderAN: You can choose to read this with your male/female partner if you want, though you can read it by yourself. If you're reading it by yourself, then you may fill in who the other reader will be. Or just fill in the brackets with random names. >_>
I was about to leave the music department when I heard keys being played on a piano. It was from one of the music rooms. I followed where the sound was coming from and when I looked through the small window from the door, I saw that girl playing. The girl that transferred here just a week ago. I noticed that she hadn't been talking to anybody much besides the teacher, so I decided to knock on her door and introduce myself.
As soon as I knocked, she stopped playing immediately and turned around to see who it was. She got up and opened the door. Her eyes stayed staring at the ground.
StrayI think he’s nearby and it’s a solace, because it could be worse - but
then I’m at the top of the world, thousands of lives before me as the
symphonic grass brushes my calves and the cool wind tugs at my hair -
someone down there could be grieving, celebrating, arguing, laughing -
I’m not to know.
I gather my bearings: labelling landmarks, identifying villages, towns;
Hills and valleys and woods and finally the river stretch for as far as
the eye can see, but it’s not enough. He does not live there.
He is further away than I could ever have imagined.
Ana's Journey Book 1 Chapter 1Lightning Scar was sitting gracefully in the center of a sunlight clearing, staring at the sky. He was admiring the bright blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds. "What a beautiful day it is today!" He said while his brother was running to where Lightning Scar is. Lightning Scar was so focused on the sky that he almost didn’t notice his own brother coming towards him. The scent of his brother hits his nostrils and turned around to face him, though.
"Hello there brother Cobalt." Lightning Scar said to his brother Cobalt. Cobalt noticed his brother found out it was him and said, "Hello big brother." Cobalt swiftly walked up to sit beside Lightning Scar, his brother. "I have something to tell you brother." Cobalt said as he received a nod from his brother, "Go ahead and speak Brother." Lightning Scar said. Cobalt was starting to tell his brother everything until Cobalt was quickly interrupted by a loud howl.
"AWOOOOUUU!!!" White Beauty howled loudly. Lightning Scar whipped around
Drowned In Time For eternity, there was light. It was beloved in my heart, as is with any being who lives. There was no desire for death but simply the want for a fun time. But even on the hottest and brightest days, frozen tendrils of darkness can always threaten to put us back into our place. For me, one of those moments was when those thoughts meant nothing to me. When most ideas were to abstract for my young, concrete brain. It was the day I drowned. The last thing I saw was the glare of sun as I felt a smile on my face. Suddenly, seconds were gone. I opened my eyes and felt my body rising, knowing there was a short time missing. I watched blue ribbons float horizontally as I rose towards the sky. I felt shrouded in peace, and I accepted that may have been dead. Nothing mattered to me. There wasn't even a want for air. It was the most calming sensation until I broke water. Suddenly my lungs gasped for air. Disorientation led me into a fit of anxiety as I realized how far my friends we
On Ideas and Blackberry Pie IIA few summers ago I spent two weeks with my great-aunt in Victoria, where she lived with her husband in a little house next to a golf course. Now, every summer I indulge in self-reflection, contemplating my life, my goals, my future, and deciding how I should change to make the next year better than the last.
That was how, for two whole weeks in that summer, I became a runner. Attempted to, anyway.
The golf course next to my aunt’s house was surrounded by a trail that was the perfect distance for me. Leafy trees provided a reprieve from the sun, and by the end I always felt better, although sweatier, than I did before. When I would trot through the door at the end of my run, triumphant, my sister would shake her head at me in awe of my resolve to lead a healthy life.
The very best part about my excursions, though, were the blackberries.
Along the trail stood blackberry bushes, tall and prickly and filled with fruit. They grew in patches on the side of the trail, sporadically popp
Writing Exercise - 8:18 am 30 September 2014 She jumped out of the car and rushed to the door. Fumbling with the keys, she unlocked the door and rushed in to grab her fiance’s work ID that he had forgotten. The young woman ran back out to the car and jumped in handing the man’s ID to him as she got herself buckled in.
They drove down to the male’s place of employment. After turning off the car, the man leaned across the seat and kissed his fiancee. Both removed themselves from the car and stood for a moment in the empty parking lot.
“Zip the up the jumper and make sure the hood is up,” the man said as his fiancee shivered holding the jumper tight around her body.
The young woman gave a nod and a smile, “I’ll message you when I get home.”
She gave him one last kiss before she began to walk away from her fiance. She looked back at him and smiled before starting up th
Ana's Journey SummaryThis is a story of a wolf called Ana and her journey. The young wolf had a lot of suffering in her life, but one day new things started happening in her life like love, protection, caring, and so much more. Our young leader runs into her past foes while out in search for food. Can Yamcha get to her in time to protect her from these dangerous wolves out to settle a score?
GeysirLocated a little north of a field full of steaming holes and boiling water, the geysir sits quietly after the last eruption, which threw many liters of boiling water almost 20 meters into the air. Now, after water has finished rushing down into the for a while seemingly bottomless hole, the geysir sits silent and still.
For a while all is quiet, and the water steams passively in the cold air. Deceptively immobile on the surface, the warmth in the ground heats the water, already nearly a hundred degrees celsuis hot, to even higher temperatures. The weight of the water on top of this superheated bubble keeps it liquid, at least for the time being.
On the surface, a few bubbles break in the still, cold air. The geysir is coming alive.
For a short while, nothing happens. Then the water suddenly rises, threatening to let out the bubble of superheated steam that is forming below. But the weight of the water is still enough to keep the geysir from erupting, and so it only breathes instead, in
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