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Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
But at least it makes me
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.
It spreads, like fire,
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.
I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?
What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –
You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
Dear fucked society,Dear fucked up society,
Why do you take our rights?
Our human rights?
To who we love?
To who we are.. To our image?
You force images down our throat;
Images of airbrushed, false looking
people. You want people to look
more skinny and cause anorexia,
More along the hidden line that
you dig under the ground like
a dead forgotten body yet always there
You show us that its not right to be gay,
lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered..
And then wonder why the suicide rate is
so fucking high. You cause the nightmares
and terrors of our family not accepting us
Telling Childhood Goodnight.They were the fearless whispers through the starless night.
They were the pounding feet through the cobbled streets,
Screaming out for everything.
They were the fleeting memories of a time long gone by,
Blown away in the wind to a far away sky,
Where the air is cold and the stars never shine.
Memories leave their traces behind,
The scars on my legs from a day long gone by.
I was climbing a rock,
That would forever leave me with a flaw.
They were the youthful cries, screaming out.
They were the glowing eyes, on a fearless march,
Racing down the cobbled streets, blazing out for all to see.
The beacon of light that is now dying out,
I never wanted it to go away.
Everything is changing at a speed I can’t match,
I am drifting further every day.
It makes me want to cry that the best and worst days of my life,
Are being pushed away with every day that passes by.
I want to hold on
But each day I lose more ground.
Soon they will be gone without even a sound.
Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival
(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)
Silent and GoneAlong the blue streams of those who were simplistically glassed, I drag my wooden, empty coffin; it contains only my past.
For the many decades I've lengthened have expanded pain's time; across shallow mountains and beatings I prepare my final climb.
Through harsh mists and soft grasses the journey trembles on; days on end without my voices; alas, I realize they are gone.
Near all abandonment's shelter I rest without ease; my halved demon appears before me; she speaks hellishly in the breeze.
Forgiveness and hallucination she crisply burns in my eyes; I must awaken and continue, 'tis my time to remain wise.
To a judging stream near the g
I don't fight fair...Cut, bruised, scraped, forgotten. These things I have all been at least once in my life. But it
hasn't made me stronger, just more determined in my fight to live another day.
I know the ways of my attackers, studied their movements, learned their tricks and gleamed
their true motives. I have seen their weaknesses, their faults, theirs flaws and I have kept
them close to me, ready for use when the next time we meet.
They are cautious of me, they have weary from my adaptive ways, knowing that I can fall only
so many times. They are scared for I have the key to their defeat; not by sane ways, but by
the ways they fear to tread.
One look, one stare, one gesture and they will run in fear for the truth is upon them: "I won't
live restrained anymore."
"I have seen your errors an played on them like strings on a violin. Moved you to place were I
make the rules. Put you on display for all to see what you have done, and what will be done."
The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze
Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain
(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)
Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling
The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream
(To become whatever the second birth dictates)
the carbon footprint of an arsonistyour crystal promise
rings drip off your glacial
fingers into global
nothings. the geodesic
dome you used to live in
is a hell you keep
clean-shaven and concentric,
spiraling away from you,
wrapping your unborn
children up in paper goblets.
for minimum wage, any geryon
would cling to the terza rima
inkblots on your
collarbones, his spongy molars
diving into your right
angles, his familiar laughs
killing your skin with
shivering cuddles and you
shudder, being self-diagnosed
at center of the universe,
your hair a nest of radio
waves, the one cosmic
principle drumming on the ancient
heart of mystery.
but amateur porn always
made you cry
Rose in her hand...I saw a girl she was there for days
sitting at the pavement
Not talking or looking around at anyone
She had a dark red rose in her hands
She was holding it so hard that the thorns
were digging into her skin..
I asked her "Are you alright?" She looked up, then back down at the rose, breathed in to say "Yes, I'm quite alright thank you." She was shaking, her hands were cut dripping with blood from the thorns. I told her "Don't clench it so hard, its fragile and your bleeding" She looked down further and shakily said "..Maybe.. Maybe I want to bleed" I got shocked at this and backed off I didn't want to make anything worse..
A few days went by..
The girl wasn't around,
I knew whereabouts she lived
So I went to see if she was okay
I saw a rose on the grass outside
her house.. Below a window..
A half open window, with the curtains
Drawn only about two inches
of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;
this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).
You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.
So what do you do?
You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
(But beauty isn’t everything)
lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
and I'm drowning
in the sky.
My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.
There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.
There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.
She does not have,
She has many of them.
A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.
If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.
She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.
She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
she will smile,
because she is truly happy alone.
She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.
A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn
Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school
Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory
Fight Fire With Fire- Chapter 15"You planned this, I know you did!" I shouted at Chavez, who still was pulling off the bewildered look. "Kay-Leigh, I honestly don't know what's happening." He replied simply.
"That's a load of shit, and you know it." I snapped back at him. A large brown wolf appeared from the shadows. "I'll have that map now, if you please."
He was one of the wolves that attacked Duke when he was nursing me back to health. The brown wolf had only one eye, the other extremely scarred. His stance made it clear he was the leader of the small army behind him.
"Where's your little boyfriend?" The brown wolf asked, mockingly at me.
"Not here at the moment, an
Fight Fire With Fire- Chapter 14"I'm going back in." Duke said, standing up and walking over to the cave. "What?! Are you out of your mind? You do realize that, that thing in there tried to eat us, right?"
"Yes, but the dragon was put there for a reason. Who knows? It might help us with our quest." Duke made his way back into the water and began swimming towards the cave.
"I'm going with you." I said, not really sure about the words that I said, but I wasn't going to sit here, and let him die.
"No, you need to stay here with Chavez, if we leave him here alone, who knows what he could do to us?" With that said, Duke entered the cave, disappearing in the darkness.
Fight Fire With Fire- Chapter 13I paced nervously back and forth, waiting for Chavez to wake up. What bothers me is that Duke was just sitting there, not saying a word staring at the cave.
"It's your fault you know." He told me flatly. I stopped dead in my tracks. "How is it my fault?" I said, with anger in my voice.
"Well, you let him come with us." "First of all, he would've told the Elder where we went. I had no choice, and your the one who wanted to check out the dragon!" I didn't mean for my voice to rise at the end, but it did.
He stood, and faced me "maybe I should have never saved you from that bear, then I wouldn't be in this mess!" "Oh, right. Because this is
Fight Fire With Fire-Chapter 12The growling came from the back of the cave, and I admit, I was a little freaked out. Of course, Duke had to walk towards it.
"What are you doing? What if the thing kills us?" I whispered loudly to Duke, who was carefully making his way to the back of the cave.
"Well, if we stay here, we won't know what it is." He replied simply, and Chavez responded, "I don't think I want to know."
So, Chavez and I ended up following him. The cave broke off into a bunch of smaller caves, but we just took random turns, hoping for the best. The growl echoed though the cave again, followed by a loud roar.
We saw a gold light, glowing from the mouth of one
Fight Fire With Fire-Chapter 11The three of us walked in silence through the thick bushes. The air was thick, sticky, and humid, and I was not enjoying myself. I felt like something was following us, but every time I turned my head, of course, it would be nothing.
"Amigos, do you think we could rest somewhere a little cooler?" Said Chavez, who was trailing behind Duke. "Gee, like where?" I asked, snapping back at him. "Maybe that map would show somewhere, I don't know, maybe a waterfall?" Duke replied, with tension to his voice.
All of us angered easily because of the thick, hot air. I took out the map and studied it, and sure enough, a waterfall laid up ahead about two
Fight Fire With Fire-Chapter 10Fuck owls. Fuck them all. Out of all things, why owls? Chavez, Duke and I stood together, waiting for them to attack.
A snowy owl took the first shot, digging his talons into my fur, penetrating my skin. I let out a howl of pain, and tried to grab him, but another owl was on me, ripping at my leg. More and more piled on me, and I couldn't see the ground.
I could hear my two companions having trouble of their own, and it sounded pretty bad. All of the sudden, Chavez, out of no where was tearing owls off of me, one by one.
We rushed over to Duke, and did the same to his attackers.
The fight was over within minutes, as we fought off Follio's
Who I really AmThey think I should be in pearls and a dress
They think I should be drinking tea like a lady
They think I should be cooking in the kitchen
They think I should be watching my tongue when it comes to speaking my mind
They don't like it when I watch MMA, much less take MMA classes
They don't know me...
I'm always in a Sinful T-shirt, with jean shorts that seemed to be ripped at times
I drink Monster Energy, Gatorade, and Redbull
I cuss when I want
I like to to watch fighting programs, and I like to fight.
I like who I am
Say what you please, but honey, your not changing me.
PREY NO MOREPREY NO MORE
Rope dug into Patrick’s wrists as he struggled to free his hands. His hot, damp breath washed over his face, trapped by the fabric sack secured over his head.
A floorboard creaked. Patrick froze, his back rigid against the chair, and strained his ears. Another creak.
“Hello?” he called.
The sound of swishing fabric.
“Who’s there? Where am I? Why’d you bring me here?” Blurred memories swam through his mind: drinking at the bar; stumbling home; a shadow sweeping out from an alley.
Fingers grasped his chin and jerked his head upward. “Hush.” A woman’s voice.
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More