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this is not about myself but about everything everthere is pasta in the fridge
i heat it up, sprinkle cheese on it
i do not eat it, i only stare
i feel disgusting just because
i am human and i destroy
the things i love, the things i don't love
the things i should love but can't bring myself to
i want to smash up this world
and sprinkle its remains in a box titled
"things that were once beautiful, but now are not"
and i will place it next to the box titled
"things that are beautiful, but only when you're not looking"
why is this world so goddamn cold
and why can't i ever feel warm
What Have I Done?Each day I must resist
The urge to tear myself
Apart. Each day I have
Tried so hard not to harm
Myself, out of love for you.
Part of me knows that
I'm doing is for the best,
Yet part of me thinks self-
Harm is the best thing to do.
How is it that I began to heal
When you loved me, and the
Day you said that love was gone,
My will went in reverse.
my first drunk poemwriters write whilst drunk
because every word
fumbled and smisspelled
comes out beautifully
because of the truth it holds
my ear bleeds from constant burns
and my stomach burns from constant bleeds
because beauty is never enough untouched, it seems,
the way anything i put in me is always too much.
i bled and evoked sympathy tonight.
i drank until i needed a body to stand me straight.
my organs writhed like heathens in moonlight ritual
and i let it shake.
i shook to be honest
but i was never honest enough
to admit from where the vibration came.
i shook with fear
and never, ever being adequate
or even happy
but i smiled and let everyone know
that i felt like myself,
and no one ever needed to know
that the only reason i felt so honest
was because i never feel like i can
stand on my own two feet unaided
or stop from trembling
or hold in outbursts of emotion
because if i do,
i know i'll break.
ReflectionsVal's pursuit led him to the foul beast's domain. The hollowed-out cavern reeked of blood and rancid meat. The dim light he had seen as he charged through the tunnel after the monster could now be identified: torches. Rows of mysteriously lit torches lined the walls of the huge cave. At its center was a substantially large labyrinth of mirrors.
He spotted the beast entering.
He spun his silver broadsword in his hand and hurried in behind it.
His garb was a simple blue and white crusader's leather with thick armored pads and reinforcing steel studs. Lightweight and flexible, but quite effective defense against blunt blows and – in a pinch – the slashing claws of the unholy spawn of the earth. All monster-hunters wore a similar variety in Val's experience. It would serve him well in these close quarters of the mirrored maze.
Right, left, forward, left, right he turned, always catching a glimpse of the beast's tail as he wove his way through the corridors. Every so often he sp
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More