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7They say that seven is a lucky number, and I guess it is for me too. We’re in our seventh month and we started out relationship on the seventh month. And I’m so glad we’re together. You make my days brighter and happier. You know how to make me smile, make me blush, and get me to laugh even when I’m sad. I couldn’t ask for a better person to hope to spend the rest of my life with, and I can’t picture myself with anyone else.
I love the nicknames you give me and I love the way you get excited about things, it makes me happy, to see you happy. I love the way you smile and the way you laugh, even your sleepy voice when we’re saying good night.
I love you, Eli. Happy seven months, babe, and here’s to being one month closer to a year of happiness.
Ugly Duckling Chapter 1
Sixteen…the year that everything was supposed to change for a girl...yet, I knew that this would be the same as all the others. I did not look like a supermodel, nor was I a genius. No I, Gabrielle Livingston, was a normal, one of the many that had to work their way to get what they wanted. Wandering throughout the halls of the prep school that I had worked so hard to get into, I knew that I stood out, especially when I stood next to one of the gold spoon toting, ass kissing richies that ruled the courtyard with a jewel encrusted fist. I was not blonde, or well-manicured and I especially was not a size zero, don't get me wrong, I'm not five hundred pounds, no, but being any higher than a size four and you were considered a heifer. Myself, being a size ten, I fell into that category, despite being able to still fit into the fashionable clothes, the fact that I filled it out a little better and the clothes didn't hang off me meant I was called a pig and a fatass on a regular
Excerpt From Ugly Duckling Sixteen…the year that everything was supposed to change for a girl...yet, I knew that this would be the same as all the others. I did not look like a supermodel, nor was I a genius. No I, Gabrielle Livingston, was a normal, one of the many that had to work their way to get what they wanted. Wandering throughout the halls of the prep school that I had worked so hard to get into, I knew that I stood out, especially when I stood next to one of the gold spoon toting, ass kissing richies that ruled the courtyard with a jewel encrusted fist. I was not blonde, or well-manicured and I especially was not a size zero, don't get me wrong, I'm not five hundred pounds, no, but being any higher than a size four and you were considered a heifer. Myself, being a size ten, I fell into that category, despite being able to still fit into the fashionable clothes, the fact that I filled it out a little better and the clothes didn't hang off me meant I was called a pig and a fatass on a regular basis
hyenas make the best lovers.i need to stop looking
for death in every body
my fingers touch.
i have been force fed
old lovers, & slices
of the moons lying dust
i am messy poems;
i am fractured confessions.
i am laughter
my jaws ache
with the taste of
i am still hungry.
give me your sugar;
I will share my breath.
you are still made of starstuff,
& i am no longer caged.
PretendingYou, full and complete you, you have become my strength and my talisman for all times...
You, and again you, you let I wrecked just in you…
You, my madness is you, you tie me to your body and do not let me go...
You, inside me, between every atom, between every cell you live among...
I say all the time: fear not, there are songs that will never know who sings...
Those kisses never know who prints them on your lovely lips...
You nail down your dreamy eyes and tenderly ask me: Are you crying?
No, I answer. Dried my eyes are... to the bottom you can look into them.
If you get lost, breathe me and you will find you.
The truth is that I beg you to remember that this that born in my mouth, this awakening in my eyes, will sleep latency in your soul.
Undoubtedly you will become the most beautiful and sad fisherwoman of Stars.
I'm hiding my will to live, of my desire to live for you.
Maybe I can lose myself in the eyes of the person asking for a miracle, but it is certain that, I want to
StockholmBut my heart beats for you alone
You are not
You are ever watchful
Hoping for devotion
My wandering heart
Beating for you
My SunlightYou are my sun,
My only light,
As you fade,
The moon is there,
A memory of you,
Of the darkness,
Before your dawn.
You are the breeze,
That kisses my face,
Those tender lips,
That rushing embrace.
You are the grass,
Beneath my feet,
You hide my tears,
You support my weight.
You are the last,
One for me,
There was many before,
But they were never the same.
With you its right,
With you its love,
And if tonight,
I come above.
I'll see your glory,
From the moon,
From the memory,
Of this afternoon.
Puppet String SymphonyHere come the snares,
wrenching at my heart;
like my tongue can’t find the words to say.
I've been resurrecting your skeletons,
just to place broken flesh over it and watch it all decay…
…scratching at freshly picked scars and rose petals,
while digging up old habits and hatchets;
just so I can whistle a tune so tragic.
Here comes the wind,
stomping at my lungs;
like my emotions are gasping to be released.
I've been coughing up your cover-ups,
just to place my index finger over it and watch it all cease…
…living in this darkness, sulfur-tipped match tossed in the breeze,
while thinking it’s just not worth the candle;
just so I can hum a song you can’t handle.
Here come the keys,
playing at my mind;
like all eighty-eight demons and angels serving one star.
I've been worshipping my self-inflicted headache,
two times twelve and that’s how many bars…
…I've got to show you the color I feel.
When the puppet string symphony beg
HowlHe’s a dancer in the dark
With unearthly rhythm
She’s the moon he left to sleep
In a sky without her stars
Like a poem led by lust
In a world of not to happen
Like a symphony of phoenix flights
On a December night
Singing for the ones they laid to rest
On their holy ground
Without an Earth
He’s the wolf
Howling with regrets
In a world of his own madness
She’s the moon
Without a sky to hold her high
In the night
Like the odds are not in favor
Like the sun that conquers
And the moon on someone else's sky
Like the legends we used to fear
Children by the fire’s flames
We used to be believers
In a world without its hope
Dream, boy, dream of wonder
In a world without sparkle
Like stormy days
In a September goodbye story
Of sleepless nights and awaken dreamers
Stars that pierce the sky
Are just children of regrets
Of a love that never happened
But always echoed in the night
The GlowThe Glow
Dictated by Puabi
What brings a glow of fire
To a single woman's eyes?
What curves her red lips
Into a joyful smile?
The promise, the delivery,
The receipt of love.
When she was waiting
Such a long while,
And it comes to her heart
In her surprise.
Imagine, when it comes
To a woman like me,
The brightness of the glow
In her eyes.
About ArtA sweet poem,
All but a
For the true art called
For Your Eyes Only...For your eyes only, I bare my soul.
For your eyes only, I bare my heart.
For your eyes only, I bare my body.
For your eyes only, I bare my mind.
For your eyes only.
For your ears only, I share my dreams.
For your ears only, I share my fears.
For your ears only, I share my sorrow.
For your ears only, I share my joy.
For your ears only.
For your heart only, I give my love.
For your heart only, I give my strength.
For your heart only, I give my passion.
For your heart only, I give my life.
For your heart only.
All of these and more...
are for you--only for you.
I LoveI love that we started out as strangers
I love that we were role play partners and friends first
I love that you allowed me and continue to allow me to open up to you when I feel necessary
I love that we can talk about our dreams for the future
And I love that while they aren't always the same in all aspects, they all end up at the same place
I love that you can make me laugh
I love that you can make me blush and my heart race
I love that you make me feel better after a bad day
I love everything about you
But most of all
I love you
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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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