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looking down from the 3rd floor windowit occurs to us that we are sick.
it occurs to us that we should like some pastries.
flaky with a fruit filling.
it occurs to us that if they knew, we would be finished.
we are starving.
we are sick.
it occurs to us that our heart keeps beating against our will.
it occurs to us that we enjoy the empty feeling in our stomach, though it
grumbles, complains, whines, moans, pains.
it occurs to us that sitting with legs crossed at the knee is unhealthy.
we sit seiza in public, though.
it occurs to us that we shouldn't enjoy looking at the scars on our arm so much.
that we shouldn't enjoy putting them there at all.
we are so sick.
it occurs to us that this is all our fault, anyway.
it occurs to us that we are always smelling delicious foods when we have no time to eat.
it occurs to ourselves that we are starving ourselves, every day.
it occurs to us that we are entirely too flippant about our own mortality.
it occurs to us that we wear the same tired face every
When I First Met YouWhen I First Met You
“We're probably gonna die here.”
I glance at her, the amazing little ball of sunshine, with a look that could peel paint off the wall, if there's any left on the charred remains of the buildings we're hiding between. The entire city was firebombed three days ago; that was the last we've seen of anything human besides each other.
“You know, you don't have to be so damn negative about it,” I answer back bitterly, tearing my eyes away from her unapologetic, expressionless face. She's always like that. Stone cold, unfeeling. I don't blame her, though. It's probably the only way she can get by. The only way either of us can.
I have these scary moments where I think about what's going on, really think about it. Everything I owned, everyone I loved, just gone. Wiped completely out. I know this for a fact because everything I cared about was located within a 5-block radius of my apartment: my parents, my friends, the hospital where I worked.
As soon as she saw his body, broken and crumpled lying limp on the floor, she stopped short, unable to move. A shuddering gasp wracked her lungs, and suddenly she found herself dashing forward and sliding along the ground. All around her the building was steadily collapsing; an iron beam collided with the ground just as she reached his body.
It was worse than she'd thought. His eyes were barely open, the slit of green flickering in and out as he blinked wearily. Severe trauma to his neck and chest left pools of dark crimson on the floor, seeping into the fabric of her pants.
She cradled his face in her hands. "I love you," she said, voice steady despite the tears dripping from her face. "Corinth, I love you."
His eyes blinkedonce, twiceand his lips cracked into a pained grin. "What?" he asked, the word nothing but a strained whisper. Blood colored the inside of his mouth and trickled from his chin.
"I just figured I'd say it first instead of trying to say all t
"Sex," he moaned, slumping down to the concrete and leaning against the foot high barrier that separated him from the pavement 40 stories below, "I need sex."
Beside him, Mira paused in adjusting her sniper rifle to deliver a quality stare. "You haven't slept for two days straight," she said, "and in those two days, you've eaten enough food to sustain a small third world country."
Corinth looked up at her. "Yeah?"
"And you need sex."
She gave a snort of disgust. "You don't need sex, you need a brain transplant," she stated.
Corinth laughed. "Sex, sleep, and food, honey," he said, "that's all I need. I'm not getting enough sleep, so naturally, my body wants to make up for it with the other two. I've already eaten three times my weight in baked ziti, so..." He left his sentence open, raising his eyebrows at her in suggestive meaning.
She spared him a side-glance. "Stop being so Fae," she said offhandedly, turning back to her scope.
Mira could almost feel him pouting beside
The Lidocaine Diaries"I never was an angry kid."
You'll say that to yourself about...5 or 6 times a day. Each time, it heralds an inevitable half an hour reflection on everything that's happened up to now. Everything that's made you what you are. And what are you? It always comes down to that. What are you? Who are you? These things plague your mind like maggots on carrion.
You never could find your pulse. Those middle school days, where health class substituted in for 50 minutes of throwing rubber balls at people who may as well have killed your family, for all the force you use. Where they thought it'd be fun to teach you how to find your pulse. You never could. It didn't bother you, though. You'd always just laugh; it was just a joke, anyway. You were alive, and that was all that mattered.
But those times have disappeared. You feel so dead inside that you desperately wonder if maybe, all those years ago, it mattered that you couldn't find your pulse. You sit one day, and find it by staring
The smile that lit up Cassidy's face warmed Leigh to his soul. It was a look he immediately treasured and hoped to see more of in the future. "It won't be easy," Cassidy warned. "I never assumed this would be easy."
Leigh snorted. "To the contrary," he said, playfully flicking Cassidy in the forehead. "If you're involved, it's bound to be as simplistic as possible."
It took a moment before Cassidy narrowed his eyes. "Did you just call me mentally deficient?" he asked.
Leigh's eyes widened. "Oh, no," he said dramatically, "you must be evolving faster than I thought if you understood that one."
"Asshole," Cassidy huffed, before brashly licking a trail up the side of Leigh's face. Leigh heartily voiced his annoyance and pushed at Cassidy, entirely adverse to having his face loaded with spit. Cassidy easily fell to the bed, pulling Leigh with him so that the brunet was on top of him. At the scowl Leigh gave him, Cassidy merely grinned and scrubbed at Leigh's face with the
Jeff the KillerJeff the Killer
This is what I see through eyes I can’t shut
And this very colour flows through each vein
Everyone looks the same inside, but
In their souls they are like me, we all cause pain
This is the natural state of the world
I hate the weak and prey on the strong
Every great plan fails before it is unfurled
I will see this through, I will kill every wrong
This is how things will be when I’m done
With no one left there will be no death
I only scare them because I've already won
My blade has a hypocrite as its sheathe
Kill meKing of the damned
I can't live like that
Leave me to die
Let this nightmare end
My friend, please
End my life
L'ombre de ton ombre(English version below)
Une brise printanière passe. Sous la douce Aurore, des souvenirs bourgeonnent, et tes regards de bleuet...
La saison de notre amour.
Parmi les échos dans ma tête, ta voix y résonne. Comme si j'avais grandi près de toi, à t'apprendre petit à petit
J'aimerais te faire rire.
J'arrache de ta garde-robe quelques fragments de ton être. La douceur du coton, du lin, et de la laine m'enivre
Doux parfum de tes habits.
La perfection de tes courbes et le désir qui en émane réveillent en moi des sentiments encore inconnus
Un péché vivant.
Marchant comme si tu étais porté par le mistral, ta démarche est puissante et virile
Retourne-toi, je suis là.
The Russian Sleep Experiment: Sleep Beyond DreamsRending sanity’s veil as I lie comatose, awake
Awakening to find I cannot feel my face
Face-to-face with my own weakness, I break
Breaking down, everything falls away
Away from here, anywhere, I think I’ll leave
“LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU MONSTERS!” What?
What am I? I am not me, this is another’s hand
Handshakes and experiments, that is why I am here
Here in this space outside of time I am free
Freely I crawl, rip the hairless monkey to shreds
Shredding reality, I am soon put back to sleep
Sleep is temporary, my kind will wake again
Boy Who Ate BugsPush your head down
towards that brown
dirty, wet ground
You see all these bugs
the ants, the worms
And put them
into your dinky mouth
I hear your parents screaming
Black Widow VIIlux
under the midnight moon, i stay awake in the hollow tresses of the drowning basement and it WON'T STOP SCREAMING AT ME STOP SCREAMING
run run run run d
i i rain
h rain h
Barbed Wire BallerinaShe spins and twirls with absolute elegance,
The silent whisper of her dance and art,
Watching her every graceful move from the third row.
Her paleness is like the moons shimmering glare on a wintry sky,
And her thin, swift body is beyond words of expression,
As the orchestra wails of a tragedy,
She entangles you into ever cry, every sorrow, every loss
Deep within the tale.
When the curtain shrouds the remains of the performance,
I stand with the crowd to clap and cheer,
Awaiting for a chance to escape the third row.
As the crowd slowly drifts from the ballroom,
I sneak around to the doors leading to backstage,
And as I set foot in their dressing rooms,
I find her still wearing some of the tragic beauty from the show.
I tremble in my skin whether from anxiety or disbelief,
Her perfection and exquisite entirety strangles me to near faint,
And when she sensed presence and turned to look at me,
When she spoke... spoke with a voice angels would sin for.
I could not answer any of the questi
Vampire LamentVampire Lament
Vampires need to sooth their minds
The desire for blood is overwhelming
They need music to ease the pain
And help them deal with their manic obsession
The vampire Clara plays the violin
In a cemetery full of lost souls
She plays a vampire lament
They kill humans but they have regret
They long for death
But are driven by their mania
It is a life of everlasting pain
The emotion of the music is over-powering
And tears roll down her face
She remembers all those she has killed
Or turned into vampires
To live in torment forever
The music is beautiful and emotional
It is full of loss and regret
If you hear the vampire lament
There will be tears in your eyes
These vampires deserve our pity
But do not show them mercy
For they will take away your soul
And you will suffer for eternity
Sin and RedemptionJust kill me.
Lay waste to my existence with your fetish for disaster.
Rend me in two, grate me to pieces, shatter the very core of my being.
Diagnose me with that fatal disease, that venom so deadly.
Cut me, maim me, incise me, slaughter me.
Spill my blood on this unforgiving canvas,
And perhaps we can each find some redemption.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More