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Magic WandDragons fly through poison skies, their whispers in the wind
Ladybugs in black sandcastles, scratches on your skin
Hopscotch over quicksand, and a castle made of dirt
Shining silver crowns and dancing 'round in spinning skirts
Bloody, ruined princesses locked up in towers tall
Watching as the prince quickly begins to fall
Slowly, as the innocence does take her darling life
Please do watch now, as the magic wand becomes a knife...
Love AgainHear my worries, fear my cries
Dread the whispered lullabies
Drown beneath the spinning skies
Feel the truth you can't deny
Taste the blood upon your tongue
Feel the poison fill your lungs
I am she who lies among
Those who know where things belong
Feel the weapons kiss your skin
Listen to the screeching wind
See my power, watch me win…
And never fall in love again…
Tears Crimson tears were all she cried. They fell to stain the dirty carpet of her room. It was all she could do to forget--or was she simply fighting the comfort of feeling? Her brother was dead. Her sister also; she died in her arms--the poor fragile thing. She had tried to stop them but in the end the only gain had been more scars, and blood which was not her own. And then they had raped her there in her sister's blood. Her father was beating her mother when he wasn't drunk, and beating her when he was. Her mother blamed her, continually reminding her that she had ruined this family and caused the death of her siblings--nobody would even say 'murder'. But she couldn't leave, and that's what no one understood; she just couldn't.
I don't want to die--
I want to feel alive.
Her eyes were dry and she wept all the more, the dirty-yellow streetlamp outside the window casting an ugly yellow glow onto the floor in front of her. Oh
TriggerI will be the victim and the cruel words on your lips
I will be the sin resting among your fingertips
I will be the innocence you lost so long ago
I will be the many things you never dared to know
I will be the throbbing heart and I will be your tears
I will be the basis of your undiscovered fears
I will be the aching mind, the troublesome disease
I will be the deadly heartbeat, you these things will please
I will be emotionless to make you seem so pure
I will find a beating heart, and then I'll find the cure
I will be the heartlessness that helps you to survive
I will pull the trigger just to make you seem alive...
Mind, oh MindSmiley face, smiley face, can't you ever see?
So much to be sad about, so much that could be
Going wrong for everyone, going wrong for you.
Smiley face, smiley face, don't you feel it too?
Sad face, sad face, can't you ever tell?
So much could be going great, going oh so well
Sad face, sad face, can't you ever see?
Life is spend much better when your thinking thoughts of glee.
Mind, oh mind, why can't you agree?
Thinking everything at once is slowly killing me...
In My MindI like to talk to my best friends
Whenever i'm feeling down.
A precious lick of happiness
From their sweet and lovely sound.
I cry the tears of melancholy
Upon their reliable shoulders
A kiss among my scars
As the night grows colder.
A feeling of pure pulchritude
As our friendship does prove true
Yes, i confide in my best friend
If only you could hear them, too.
On To Dead Little GirlsSpiders hang from threads made of shadows.
Blood dripping from his tongue,
Silence flooding the sky.
He’s pouring salt along open wounds,
Bandaging them with dust,
Disinfecting with poison.
Black roses on a coffin
For a small little girl
In a pale pink dress
And cuts along her
Frozen clocks begin to move
The sun has risen,
Early morning light
Shining brightly in the sky.
He walks to the graveyard,
Setting white daisies on
The little girl’s
Days go by,
And he sits there.
Tearing petals off the flowers,
And a butterfly lands on one daisy.
He crawls on his hands and knees,
Holes in his clothes,
Dirt on his fingers.
He tickles the butterfly
And treasures it until it dies.
For the best thing to do
Is rip off the wings of a butterfly…
And sew them onto dead little girls.
I Belong To You I hate rain. Not really, I love it. Just not when the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful, perfect, comfortable, waterproof, perfect coat in existence has been savagely butchered by my so-called friend’s Dalmatian. Every slap of rain on my naked arms is a stinging reminder of the irreparable hole in my wardrobe.
Some people might try to fill the void with lesser coats but I can’t bring myself to betray Valentino, even after her death. Instead my slippery arms grapple with each other in wet shock as I stumble to the op shop, clinging to one last thread of hope. I know in my deadened heart that I’ll never have another coat like her. Yet here I am, blundering through the elements in my vain search for the acceptance and warmth I found wrapped in Valentino’s woollen sleeves.
Thud. My body slams into the door, making the ‘open’ sign quiver and the bells tinkle in offense. I fight for entry, the door’s assault doubled by the stale funk of
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More