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Well...Well, you're not anorexic. So you must be fat.
A fat, ugly person.
Well, you fit in with the crowd. You must be a fake.
A fake wannabe.
Well, you're happy. What are you hiding?
You've got to be hiding something.
Well, you're sad. You must be emo.
An emo attention seeker.
Well, you're popular. So you must be a jerk.
Why would anyone like you in the first place?
Well, you're quiet. You must be a nobody.
Nobody at all.
Well, you're you.
What else could go wrong?
The True Story of the Pride FlagI sat
Through the Window
Blue on the top,
Purple in the middle,
Pink at the bottom.
It was a
Bisexual Pride Flag
He was holding it
But I knew what He
to tell me.
He was telling me
Who I Love
is not a sin
I shouldn’t be
I saw it
It was a sign
That the Lord
Let's Run Off Together...You know.. Get lost for awhile...
Just you and me.
C'mon, love... I'll show you great sights, many a lovely color.
And when night falls... Take my hand so that I may touch you.
Do not pull away when I pull you close. My intentions are pure. Kind.
Relax in my arms as they lace around your waist, and do not tense when I run my hand down your cheek... Eventually both hands are at your face, tracing your features gently, lovingly.
You'd wonder why I do this, and tilt your head, a small smile on your face. Well, lamb, you inspire awe in me... Every curve of your face is perfect, every aspect of you soft and wonderful. Let me touch you... Because... I need to.
To assure myself that you are real... And not a dream.
Your hands, with any luck, will find my waist. From there, I'd run my own hands down your front, gliding softly over your clothes. Until I pull you into a hug once more, about the waist.
Wonder in my eyes, and probably shyness in yours, I'd lean in and kiss you... Gently, sl
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
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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