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Scarecrow Green W. Body ImageSCARECROW
the trees are still green.
ive got a boy in each ear screaming in a strained falsetto, "find god, then fuck, rub war paint over your collar and choke those dreams of adolescent fancy!"
maybe not in that order.
i feel that those might be reasonable demands.
if not, ill stay a virgin forever and stop posting my barely lucid projections on cross walk buttons so the world can join me in confusion.
ive decided to marry myself to this moment, a rubber band ring on my finger and everything.
i cant tell if theyre asking for a fire or a union.
all i can hear is sex and murder, a whisper of masturbation.
the feral cry signifies a busted climax so maybe these boys are in love and the songs merely rut against each other.
its a valid enough theory.
a part of me hopes that they become beautiful monsters when the lights go out.
for them my heart goes.
today ive decided not to believe in love.
its a silly little thing, not suitable for children my age
"just jealous 'cause we're young and in love."
im jotting this down overlooking stairs to the concrete people playing evergreen games until the grass hits and feet sink against the movement.
my fear is the position to topple into bodily harm, she told me because my statements were laced, hardly contrary to the truth. and my knees are buckling, body sways forward and panic spray paints my senses 'til they're all bright yellow. i fall backwards on my ass, knees pressed tight to my chest so i can breathe normal again.
luckily no ones noticed that its happened for the third time tonight.
it might be a bit cliche to proclaim myself toeing the edges of our small existence 63 percent of the time.
eyes closed and learning how to meditate, recite the best poem ever written to the better half of my memory that sits in the dark until special moments when i wish to remember how to make decisions based on my mistakes.
this is different.
im listening to someone else's favorite song, strike to my ski
Sunglassesi look down and my hands are clasped, the light washing over them in broken stretches, intervals like broken clockwork. fingers interlocked atop the plaid fabric draped down and around my hips.
for the past hour or so ive been writing in my head.
about boys and girls.
those who i have, haven't, should've and desperately want to kiss. im 16, so honestly, theres nothing else for me to write about.
i wanted to start this with a sentence in my mental draft that would state, more or less, 'i tell him i love him but im not sure by what definition i hold it, perhaps whichever he feels it to be.'
something like that.
its about a boy who ive kissed despite knowing just how much i should not have. because my decision making skills are just about as flawed as my parents' are.
i guess i wouldve gotten all poetic about it too. about the songs hes sang to me and how hes just a stepping stone that i paused at, knowing it was merely 'til i truly get what i want (sniff, i say, 'what i had'), but no mat
Blackbirdthe sound of breathing over labored guitar chords.
he says 'rooftop', i think E minor, maybe binary code.
its just that simple.
with an arpeggio inhale and the positioning of awkward fingertips.
now hes humming something i cant discern and the song is supposed to be about lonliness, he says, a thin mouth tilted up in the corner.
'lovely melancholy' i say to myself.
but i hear moonlight and silver glinting off earlobes, hollowed in the dark.
dont believe theyre lonely, more but reaching out from the edges.
scribbles in the corner of papers with outstretched arms, to use figurative language.
a tendency to ask what i am writing, always thinking it be about himself (8th grade memories floating like notebook paper, i remember, small smile and bright eyes.)
right now the sound is repetition, shifting soft and to a feeling--green grass like comforters and arena seating.
and i can hear what this is asking for, a mirror imaged and a sideways glance through crowds.
to break his concentration, th
Counter Topi need to make that night seem more poetic when i write it down.
inject some sorry romanticism into those few moments.
felt like i had no face and even with the lilt of eyebrows, creases in the corners of my forced smile, the expression wouldnt have mattered anyway.
they dont explain it to you in those middle school classes.
the overwhelming sense of power found in sometimes hazel eyes, bright in dimly-lit rooms.
yet crippled in knowing how these things tend to mean nothing.
how my knees give out and quiver.
how in the minutes before, my lips mirrored the action, trying not to weep for the need of piteous decisions.
and voices are obsolete.
but breathing means everything.
i might actually call that my own, unless imagination runs wild and my skin goes blank for an open canvas---close your eyes and see anyone else you want to hold.
theres nothing at all beautiful to see when i let myself be picked apart for the sake of wanting someone i cant have, even when hes looping his perfect finge
Criss-Cross Designthe light has then adjusted
some twenty times since
weve been staring
with hair caught behind cold ears
and the irises expanding
for there is no way
to go blind in these rooms
with white-washed vision
blotting out dark figures
as they might rise slowly
in some distance
but you might switch these lines
to different angles
looking out windows
see the dull drone
of brown eyes
against brick walls
im writing your movement
as i stare at this pen
conjuring some demon
kill you dead
with the unrelenting desire
of this swirling madness
out the tip and over the page
so i could draw the distance
of just where you migh
be looking and write
those lines back to my eyes
and my mouth
because they are both open, staring
as you look anywhere but for me
Adenei've got a safety pin fastened through a collar and a name i dont know fit under the swollen rasp of my dry tongue.
the name like peril, little girls in sunday dresses, celestial in the songs they sing.
as if i knew that definition.
maybe stringing descriptions along branches and stuck with metal points, rusting red through the sides.
spelling out letters with stick tips in teh dirt and memorizing lines on her knees, with her hands upon the ground.
with hair threaded through like loops about her fingertips, passed through pink tinged lips and breathin in her air through filters, left there speechless.
reflecting the sun and leaving their sketches on tree trunks.
the countours gold, eyes closed and blind to the moment.
spit at her feet and found mud squished through toes, causing dissension among the ranks.
and she speaks quietly to the pins in her shoulders that whatever youre seeing, its not happening.
i say Adene, you draw a picture and the lines overlap.
running like water.
We Can See Thisive found out that these lives are like movies and the voices set are scripted pieces of beauty.
my gaze, taciturn, green grass in graveyards.
lifting his chin with the tips of my fingers.
as if holding the pose, fighting breath under water.
and walking away, found an exit through hanging branches of willows wilting in the heat of some lost summer.
the glances then fashioned are disguised 'round my fingers in trying to remember why i could not look away as he tread over flowers, skipping over their stories held in the words chipped into cold stone.
unless laying on the park bench and closing my eyes, finding letters encrypted in the stones thrown at my feet.
if set to the chorus of the soundtracks so celluloid, you could find our names up in the lights of grocery store tabloids.
because we are stars.
pretending out way through the moment of fake love, shielding faces from sunlight in late afternoons.
Hair Clip in Those Bedroomsdarling
i can hear the quirk in your voice
so i know its not okay
and im not gonna tell you i approve
but hes gone on an ego trip
and it extends beyond the hours of jet lag
that pulls you into his arms
from whence he might throw you upon the ground
to hear his drunken hero stories
the fatigue breathes alcohol into his thoughts
and theres that girl that we know
the one that i love more than the world
who whispers two names into everyones ear
and plays off the repercussions as her innocence
so lets all nod and call this okay
i remember the summer
when we smiled
as they played out the night in the comfort of bedrooms
it was okay wasnt it
the dialogue of deception
and hes lining your ears with it
its not the soar of piano concertos
and sonnets spoken with the bow of stringed instruments
if he looks you in the eyes with sunflowers in your vision
know to stare away
because is it not preconceived in the hours that he travels back in time
back to you
to whisper that hes not sure of what you ar
[Chapter 1] No Regrets [Levi x Fem!Reader]
“Hey! You! Get back here!” a plump, middle-aged man wearing an apron yells as you sprint down the street. His words only make you run faster, but as you speed up, you can hear his steps starting to slow until finally, he comes to a complete stop. A string of curses race after you, but his vulgar language doesn’t faze you. All you care about is not getting caught, so when your eye catches an indent in the wall of buildings, and after one final glance back to make sure the man isn’t following you, you slink from the desolate streets into an abandoned alleyway. Sliding your back against the wall, you gulp in some much needed air before you set the stolen bag down, sifting hastily through its contents.
Much to your disappointment, all you pull out are two loaves of bread. You’d been hoping to get your hands on some meat; it’s been a while since you had any, and besides, bread was easy to get - it was meat that people guarded with their lives. Sighing, yo
Steve RodgersX!Chunky Reader- My Compliment
"I still think you shouldn't do it (your name)." You glanced at your friend Natasha who looked worried.
"Why not Nat, it'll be a nice surprise for Steve." You smiled as you flipped through the packet you were filling out.
"No it won't, he loves you just like this; you know that." She snatched the packet from your grasp and smirked at you.
"What the hell Nat! Give me the packet back now!" You stood up making the chair topple over as you glared at the trained assassin who just smirked at you and started flipping through the papers.
"Why (your name), you don't need it you're beautiful already, but if you really want it you'll have to catch me!" She suddenly bolted running down the hall towards the elevator leaving you in the dust as you overcame the shock of the situation and scrambled after her.
You got into the elevator and stared at the buttons in front of you debating which floor she went to.
She wouldn't go to Tony's floors or lab; she still had a grudge on him from last week's poker
When You Can't Sleep At Night.She was beautiful, but not in the beautiful ways you might like to think so. She did not have hair that dripped gold, her eyes were not the color of the frozen antarctic. Her lips were chapped and thin, her smile was bent and crooked as his own pair of inquisitive sights absorbed her in like a yellow bath sponge. She did not have a gentle laugh nor did she speak humble thoughts at times. But she was still beautiful nevertheless, despite her imperfections and her cravings to win over a certain hedgehogs gorgeous blue heart.
Sonic the hedgehog thought that she was pretty in the way the shore kissed her pale feet at the seaside, the way the moon hid itself in the curtains of darkness, hiding itself away from disturbing her sleeping form. She was beautiful in the way the wind danced around each strand of her unkempt hair, and in the way she shyly tried to hold his hand when no one want paying attention, in the way the morning air sprinkled it’s goodness through her chest, in th
Silver X Growlithe Reader Part 1
There was a girl tied to the bed. Not by her hands and legs but her neck. A collar and chain. Her body was covered with a blanket but even threw it you could see how skinny and frail she was. She probably hasn’t eaten for days. The bed wasn’t in good shape either.
The bed was on the floor with no sheets and you could see holes in it, as the blanket. Both were rather old and in poor conditions. Then again it was an upgrade compared to the other cells. Most cells had just a blanket or hay as bedding. She was the last one in the cells here so she was a test subject. Only Arceus knew what he did to these people but she was different.
When I opened the cell she sat up and looked at the ground. Her (eye color) eyes had no life. No desire to live anymore. They were slowly going black like Growlithe’s. Her hair was a mixture of (hair color) and blonde orange like a Growlithe’s. Her hair was matted and had many knots in it. The thing that was noticeable by all means wher
[Shingeki no Kyojin] Final Farewell [Levi]
Your visits became less frequent, until finally, you just stopped showing up to his office. At first, Levi didn’t care; not seeing you every day was actually a relief on his part. The man needed his space, and with you around, he had absolutely no time to himself. With you gone, he could breathe a little.
With each passing day, he saw you less and less, and took notice that you’d gradually stopped following your standard routine. You no longer showed up for practice during your scheduled time, and he couldn’t pinpoint you in your usual location in the mess hall during breakfast, lunch, and dinner hours.
He ignored it, though. You probably just needed your space from him after that small argument. If he needed you, for whatever reason, he would most likely find you hanging around Hanji anyhow.
A month passed, and the corporal was somewhat surprised that during that time-span, he had not laid eyes on you once. He wondered if you wer
Commission: Red X Half Umbreon Reader-You Saved Me
I was camping with Blue, Green, and Yellow. It was my job to get the wood for the fire.
"C'mon Pika I'll need your help to cut the trees into smaller pieces."
"Pika!" Pika just said okay.
I don't know why, but Pika has been acting weird ever since we came to our camping site. He keeps on tugging on my jacket. Every time he gets my attention he points to the left, but why would he do that?
Pika jumped on my shoulder and as soon as he did I ran deeper into the forest and found the perfect tree.
"Pika use iron tail on that tree!"
"Pikachu!" he used iron tail on the tree and it fell to the ground all of a sudden I heard a yelp.
"Pika stop c'mon!"
Pika went to where the yelp came from.
"Pika pi chu pikachu!" (Red come here she's hurt)
She? What does Pika mean by she?
I went over to Pika. What I saw surprised me. It was a girl, but not a normal girl. She had black hair and golden eyes. That's not the weird part. The weird part was she had umbreon ears and a tail. The rings were
Pokemon Boyfriend Scenarios-How You Met
You were walking around in the Kanto region looking for a battle when a red eyed boy came up to you. Lets just say you thought he was really really cute (Kawaii).
"Hi I'm Red nice to meet you," Red greeted.
"Ummm Hi?" you said quite confused.
"Do you know where you are?" he asked.
"No," you answered.
"I'll show you around!" he exclaimed.
You were going to battle the 8th gym leader. Everyone kept telling you he was hot? Well his fans said that about him. Everyone else you met told you he was cocky, but he was also strong. You were quite excited to meet him.
As soon as you went inside the gym you saw a cute brown haired boy. He had green eyes.
"Are you here to battle me?" he asked.
"Yes," you answered.
After you battled (by the way you won).
"Yes I won!" you yelled.
"But how?" he asked.
"Hello sexy senorita!" a golden eyed boy yelled.
You jumped in the air suprised. A small blush creeped on your face.
"U-umm hi," you stuttere
Fiolee: Bajo las estrellas de greciaCapitulo 3: Nuevos poderes y un nuevo amigo
Marshall vio como fionna desaparecia por las puertas de la sala de espera, y detras de ella los doctores y enfermeras del olimpo, marshall no aguanto más y cayó de rodillas en el piso
Vi como se la llebavan a fionna de ese lugar, me sentia extraño, como si me importara esa chica que hace un día conocia, pero no... eso no puede esta pasando, osea...yo soy Tánatos, soy un Dios, el más codiciado del inframundo, podria tener a cualquiera, pero ese es el problema...yo no quiero a cualquiera, quiero alguien que se haga de respetar y esa mujer que esta allá adentro, podria ser la indicada, estaba tan perdido en mis pensamiento que no me di cunta de cuanto Danna y percy llegaron
Danna: hey!!, oye tu, despierta!!! - dijo chasquiando los dedo en mi cara para qu reaccionara, cosa que funciono
Percy : *suspiro* menos mal viejo, crei que te habia llevado el alma el demonio
Marshall: mi padre
Leave A Scar
I sighed pacing my bedroom. The time was drawing very near. I called Jeffree and he’s on his way thankfully. I couldn’t do this alone. I needed him here. I sighed walking to the kitchen. I got a drink and sighed looking around. Where was he? I sighed worriedly. I smiled as his dog Diamond ran over and jumped up at me barking. I sighed petting her then pacing again. I needed Jeffree home for this. He had to be home for this. If he missed this, I was going to make him regret it.
I groaned leaning on the nearest piece of furniture as I felt another contraction grip me. I groaned and clawed at the back of the item not realizing what it was. All I knew is that I was in severe pain and I wanted it to end. I panted as it gripped me making me want to scream. But I refused to scream. I was better than that. Hell, I am better than that. Once the contraction ended, I made myself think of other things. I cleaned up a bit waiting for my lover to get home.
He finally arrived 2 hours late
UNTITLEDWhen leaning over the cool metal of a barrier, into dark trees and darker water, things seem dismal.
In looking down an expanse of disconnection, being stranded, everything seems hopeful.
People standing in their groups while I stood in isolation.
Cool air nipping at my naked heels, up my exposed legs. Shivering slightly in a well-fitting sweater and perfectly worn down skirt.
My face bright yet downtrodden by fatigue.
With warm ears and a cold nose.
Something I never cared to take note of before.
Sounds like being alone, over an ocean, walking out to sea or such.
And singing througn the darkness.
Wandering under street lamps and waiting for a savior that was coming through the night.
Broken vehicles and yawning companions.
But feeling like in one moment, the cold pavement could take anyone anywhere.
And that I needed to pay more attention to the things surrounding.
Everything so beautiful, a great pair of eyes in the sky.
For once wanting to feel the same.
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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