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Literature
Paris
i never cared much for Paris.
i've been there before,
but wasn't enthralled by the captivating
beauty all those lovers find
in that dirty looking city.
i got lost in the streets of Montmartre
and saw the sights from within
the Eiffel Tower. i saw the artists
and bohemians that roam the
streets and i saw the locks
representing love on a bridge.
it wasn't until he began talking
about Paris, even though he never
went there that i started to look
at Paris with a pair of lovers eyes.
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Literature
weeks
week one - semi
your eyes are shades of green and blue
and your hands filthy and rough
your feet wobbly and your
legs completely open (like a
wounded bird)
you looked like any other twentysomething
except you were seventeen
- -
week two - family
you held my hand and guided me through
corners and streets and sandy paths. this
was your territory though i've climbed
it so many times before.
you told me about your family, about your
divorced parents, about your dying grandmother
and later you introduced me to them.
they all looked like i was about
to run away with their most precious thing.
- -
week three - bewilderment
she knows what he looks like by now
greenish eyes, two hands, dark hair that's so thick
you cannot see his scalp. hair on his legs yet none
on his chest. she could give a perfect missing persons sketch
and yet
his face surprises her eyes every time they look at him
and his skin can still produce patterns of uncharted territory
and he keeps telling her
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Literature
time
he stands trembling, his lips are off.
his eyes are the saddest i've ever seen.
his arms aren't finding the usual spot, folded.
"i stood on a bridge this morning"
- -
coldplays' viva la vida fills the church.
it's a sick, sick joke.
"i know st. Peter won't call my name."
and he just lays there.
- -
she knows what he means.
she only needs words, no sentences.
she takes his numb arms apart
and hugs him. hard.
- -
"he will be sorely missed."
soft sobs are heard, every pair of lips
are trembling and wet with tears.
he will be sorely missed.
- -
he didn't jump.
(he just stood.
contemplating life.)
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Literature
this hurts more.
this hurts more than when
the doctor pulled out both
of my teeth without any drug to
make me feel numb
this hurts more then when
she said they had pulled the
plug
this hurts more than when
he looked at me and said he
loved her, not me
when he said i will never
break your heart, though
i might make it sting a little
i should've just stepped back
and danced with someone else
instead
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Literature
he's not a member of a church
he's dancing, smiling, saying
"i know all the songs" his eyes lock
with her and he just smiles, but
the world stops. she caved in.
he stands there - hair confused,
as if it doesn't know whether it
truly belongs to his head.
"i don't know, i just don't know.
sorry."
he takes her hair
and makes it looks like
the hair of a teletubbie.
"you look so magical."
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Literature
i'll be honest with you
i say sorry too much for the smallest things,
but i mean everyone of them. i'm sometimes so insecure
that all i can do is smile in fear of saying the wrong words
and scare you away. i can be crazy as hell and come up with
the stupidest ideas, but they'll be fun. and whenever you say
i look pretty i will just smile and shake my head.
(i'm trying to learn to accept compliments, but it's so hard to believe people
when they say something nice about me, about my looks.)
i can imagine how i'm more than a handful. how i can be tiring
with my monologues about the second world war or
how i fight for my opinions. hell, i can be a stubborn bitch.
but you could become one of the persons for whom i would die in a heartbeat.
you could become the one who knows the most about me.
if you let me.
i will make you your favorite meal even if it makes me vomit.
i will play with your nieces and nephews even if i think they're the children of satan.
i will hug you and support you even if i think you're being
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Literature
snail vs. sea
notice how she walks away
as slowly as she can,
even a snail could pass her by.
she wants to delay the moment,
the moment where she'll crawl
into her bed alone.
again.
notice how he grabs her like
an eagle catches a prey and how
he won't let go until he simply does
and pretends she's just a friend;
like he's the sea clinging on to dry sand,
yet never fully loving it.
eventually –if everything goes well-
the sea will overrun the little snail
and she will grow gills and adapt
and he will learn to be gentle as to not break her house.
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Literature
return the favor
Dear you,
i don't know what it was that made you come over and talk to me. maybe it was because i looked pretty in my dress or that i smiled and your heart warmed up. or maybe it was just the simple fact that i stood alone in a circle of friends. whatever it was, you did come over and you talked. simple as that.
you told me silly stories, you told me heartbreaking stories, you told me how your shoulder got broken by some stupid accident. and how that accident caused an early halt for your sports carreer. you told me an awful secret about your family.
and i, i told you nothing. i nodded, i smiled and i touched your shoulder as a sign of "i hope you're better now. i'm here for you".  
we spent two weeks together. fourteen days. you told me how you wish you could get rid of your girlfriend. you told me about your fears and asked me for mine. you said i was always welcome in your home. i told you about my dead friend. i told you about silly adventures. you listened. but i wanted
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Literature
oh what a night
you are the rain after a monstrous hot day, you are the syrup on my pancakes, the salt to my pepper. you are dark winter nights and blissfully semi-warm spring days. you are whatever you choose to be. you are a grasshopper, jumping around, always looking for an escape.
"i respect you more than the girl i had a relationship with for three years." i was dumbfounded. i couldn't comprehend what he was saying so i just stared at my beer. he gently placed his hand underneath my chin and made me look in his eyes. "i love you far too much to risk hurting you. that's why we can't be together tine."
you are a boy with blue eyes. you've pretty much lived everywhere. people expect you to adapt fast and be nice all the time. they call you a teddybear, a care bear. they don't look for more behind your eyes.
tears are welling up, but i try to keep them in. i put on a brave smile and look at him. "you're not an asshole. it's okay. i'll-" "it's not okay, i've already hurt you. please tell me i'm an ass
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Literature
a moment, a love.
i want to throw you on the bed
and make you scream my name
several times
i want to rip off your clothes
and see you thinking
"shit, that was my favorite shirt"
i want you to desperately cling
yourself to me and feel your breath
everywhere
i want you to look me
in the eye and tell me you love me
you always have
i want to walk to school with you
and hear everyone say
"didn't i tell you they belong together?"
(i want so many things
and a lot with you
but i'm just a friend)
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Literature
i'm saying- please don't go
you sit and think and write
and then delete all the words
you take a sip from your cup of coffee
something you hate, but it's the only way
to smell her room again
she sits and thinks and writes
and she keeps writing and
drinking coffee and sometimes
her face twists into something painful
as she realises what they did
you sit and think and read
"about the hair, you needn't care.
you look beautiful all the time"
and your stomach swirls at
the thought of it being about
you
she sits and thinks and reads
into her daydreams; pictures
of running away with him
she smiles remembering his
amazing british accent
thinking they'd blend in well
they sit and think and are
apart. not realizing that the
other is pining aswell. not
realizing that what they don't
have is special
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Literature
he doesn't know who he is
i want men to write me
raw and dirty sex poems
without euphemisms
and red roses
i want him to poke me
in my sides, a place
he's been one time too many,
and kiss me full on
in front of people
i want men to have
wet dreams about me
and i want them to wake up
with boners they've never seen
(i'll walk by the next day and smile
and they'll feel caught)
i want him to call me slut
and curse me all the way to hell
as long as he'll hold my hand
and sooth me after having a
bad dream
i might play the naughty
sex-driven girl, but secretly,
i was sick with guilt and
when i look at you
all i see is that dreamy
somewhat lopsided glance
in your eyes
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Literature
white picket fence dreams
i'm afraid that i'll turn thirty and i'll have 27 cats
but not a single soul to love.
          i do not want to end up alone.
i was scared when i wandered alone in the dark forest,
but i pulled myself together and relaxed.
a few minutes later someone jumped on me
and it scared the hell out of me, but i didn't show it.
now they all think i'm fearless.
i'm scared to death of dying and thinking:
"shit, was this it?
was this my life?"
i can't imagine a thought more scary.
maybe it was that forest that taught me
to shut my feelings completely out
or maybe it was his suicide attempt
or maybe it was "i was embarrassed when she
asked if i knew you. you were only a good fuck."
i'm scared that eventually i will scare you away
or that you'll come to realise that i'm just a good fuck
and that you can do so much better with someone who isn't me.
i try not to be as fragile as i am when i write
but i can't seem to stop myself from giving you
my heart
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Literature
if we stay here, we will burn
if birds are chained to the sky
than how do they fly so far?
how do they spread their wings?
how do they find the courage to say:
"mom, dad, it's been fun, but i have to go
jump off this tree to see if i'm old enough
to fly."
--
the news came silent
you know. it wasn't brought
to us by a troubadour with five musicians
singing he died "but hey it's for the greater good".
it was told by a girl, a friend, and she was shaking,
but it were the tears that said so much.
too much for our hearts to bear.
--
sometimes something really, really bad has to happen
in order for something really good to rise up.
like the tsunami which was just a very deadly cry for help.
but most of the time, the bad things just
free the way for more tragedies.
like 9/11.
--
sometimes i wonder if it should have been me.
maybe he thought i had more potential than him
and let me off the hook.
or maybe he just wants me to die in an awfully painful way;
like an airplane exploding in the sky,
like a bird falling faster to
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Literature
what do you want me to say?
dear you,
dear you with your irresistable smile.
with your cute laugh.
with your, "yes, i can grow a beard".
with the ocean between us for atleast another 55 days.
look,
it's whiter then white outside. and everyone who walks through the blizzard leaves a trail behind. and no one goes unnoticed. and it's like nothing i've ever seen before. and.
and, and what i'm trying to say is that you knew i'm high maintenance and that i'm weird and that i'm unsure about myself even though i can very well pretend i'm not. and that i'm, well you know. i'm sorry. okay, i'm sorry.  
you deserve better.
ever since people invented the airplanes and the supersonic-wow-i'm-going-fast-and-i-don't-die-boats they claimed the world had gotten smaller and that people were more united all over the world. long story short: you can go wherever, whenever.
what they forgot was how much it all costs and also that time is something to be carefull with. what they forgot was that although they had invented supe
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Literature
my personal nine-eleven
i.
i wish i could say
"i can't breathe without you"
and mean it,
but the days i spend alone
are already intertwinted and exciting
enough to keep me going
- to keep me breathing
and i'm not sure if i
feel sorry for that
ii.
it's everywhere i look;
friends who've been dead for years,
a cat lying still at the side of the road,
suicides, catastrophes, accidents,
flowers withering and falling apart
it's even in the plates with food
decaying right next to the sink
you only have one life.
iii.
maybe
maybe i need a war
or a life-changing moment
maybe i need to be stuck on
the 106th floor of a skyscraper
with nothing but certain dead waiting for me
maybe i'll then feel the need
to call you and tell you that
i can't breathe without you
and the smoke filling the room
would have nothing to do with it
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Random Favourites

Literature
shutter
i.
you are sharp and angled
and transparent in the middle,
as if someone cut out your pulse
and replaced it with smoke.
ii.
have you ever tried to hold on to
a ghost?
i asked once. you glanced,
clothed in nothing but dust and
moth-eaten grey blankets.
it's hard. it's harder then you would
think because even when you have
a hold it slips and slithers and burns.
and oh, and oh, it burns like dry ice.

and you answered yes and you gripped
my hand as tight as you could
but it passed right through.
iii.
and when you trace my jawline and
butterfly kisses down my wrist i want
to yell stopstopstop! because i'm already
taken and given and sold. but i see your
eyes and i see the love and how could
i ever tell you no?
iv.
looking through the shutter of a camera
i realize that you are all about contrast:
pale skin and dark eyes, eyelashes as
black as a girl could ever wish and ridges
and bones straining against white skin.
and when you tell me not to take the picture
because it'll tak
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Literature
Headphones and Expansion
I am the soles of his shoes, I must like the feeling of my cheeks
against the gravel, he presses my jawline in
hard, I keep coming back in an attempt to pluck out
each pin shaped stone. There is not much inside apart from old cogs
and plastic tubes that twist around my spine,  
something burrows into my stomach and sits,
clattering as I breathe and I have to keep on hushing it up
as its fingers start to pull my ribs apart
so the world can eye my heart up, open like empty drawers,
so I can walk around with my pores unfastened
spilling out everywhere.
I did not mean to crawl so far into his jean pockets
because I knew it would be so hard to wash my skin
out of their fabric. He is like a two AM fire alarm, loud
and I must heave my body up and stumble down the stairs,
'it's too cold to stand outside with all these half-asleep students
at this time in a morning, will you let me back in?'
He makes it rain and my eyelashes do not make good window screen wipers
anymore.
There's a boo
:iconinmyroom:inmyroom
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Literature
On a different planet
Once upon a time, there was wonderful alien from another universe than all the other aliens in his school.  He was called Alfred, and he was a joke. Everybody made fun of him, even his imaginary friends. He wore a lot of pink and bracelets on 4 of his 8 hands. He had an eye on his penis, and he ejaculated from his ear.  He did well in school, even though the teachers liked to kick him in the face. His favorite subject was horses and apples. He really loved apples, he loved the taste, he loved the shape, and he even loved the smell. His most enjoyable activity in this universe was to take an apple, and put it in a horse’s ass. When Alfred did this, he felt like he had power. The horses usually ran, when he put the apple in their ass, so he would run after, and spank them. He would guess when the apple would fall out, or if it would fall out at all. When the apple had escaped the asses of a horse, he enjoyed eating it. Just like his father used to do to him. The
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Take A Pray by toniart57 Take A Pray :icontoniart57:toniart57 2,055 2,354
Literature
pieces of you
                                      But isn't everyone alone?
         It began to rain this morning. No matter how old I get, I will always
      find it astounding, and my bones chill at the sight of everything painted so    
          green. I have found that everything I write now says “I” and “you”
           and “sometimes”--I'm repeating themes and tactics and stratagem
     and “and” until there's nothing left, until I'm feeling thin. Worn. Spread over
       too much time and too much sp
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:iconrchelsea2005:rchelsea2005 2 7
LOVIN IT? by lora-zombie LOVIN IT? :iconlora-zombie:lora-zombie 27,694 3,354 ii by edlyytam ii :iconedlyytam:edlyytam 349 49
Literature
asthma
she smokes marlboro cigarettes with the bedroom door locked. i taste it on her breath, lips and skin everyday after school. her bed is a mattress on the floor. sometimes we make love on it and i wonder if she'd rather have her mouth around a cigarette than me right then. she has asthma too.
she is my second cousin. i didn't know this until two years after we began fucking and three years after i fell for her. i don't think it really matters. emily says if i ever made her pregnant she'd make me punch her in the stomach, heavy and hard. but i never would you know, i love her.
the smoking is killing her. i hid the cigarettes beneath the sink, but she just bought new ones and hid them better. she had her head down in the pillow, coughing, coughing until she coughed up sticky blood. i cried for her and she told me to stop being such a pussy. i told her i loved her and she drew another cigarette. kissing it ways she'd never kiss me.
some nights i sleep over hers. her father doesn't mind, he
:iconPretty-As-A-Picture:Pretty-As-A-Picture
:iconpretty-as-a-picture:Pretty-As-A-Picture 848 323
johnny cash. by wwc2193 johnny cash. :iconwwc2193:wwc2193 7 2 World War Two: Simple Version by AngusBurgers World War Two: Simple Version :iconangusburgers:AngusBurgers 11,770 2,360 Death Sticks by golfiscool Death Sticks :icongolfiscool:golfiscool 1,306 411
Mature content
I Hid Under the Covers :iconelzorrito:elzorrito 2 9

Activity


so it took a boy five years younger than me
to make me feel okay about myself.
to make me feel that anything is possible
and that love can be as easy as you make it.

we're almost two months into this and it's the first time i panicked
because i thought he was through with me, but instead
he was making this surprise date for me.
it's the first time i don't wake up
and not liking what's next to me.

it is awesome.
  • Listening to: the offspring.
  • Reading: a dance with dragons 1: dreams and dust
  • Drinking: plain water.

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:iconbreakoutphotography:
breakoutphotography Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2010
:wave: Thankyou so much for the :+fav:! :hug: :D

Ps. Sorry for the VERY late reply & premade message !
I'm going through my 'Activity Messages' list, so forgive me if I double-comment you. ^^'
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:iconmirhiel:
mirhiel Featured By Owner Nov 19, 2009
:iconcocowaveplz:
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:iconsharingsecrets:
SharingSecrets Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2009
hi :)
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:iconchloroformboy:
ChloroformBoy Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2009
:iconimhappyplz::iconfaveplz:
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:iconawasteof-paint:
Awasteof-paint Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2009
thank you so much for the watch! :heart:
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:iconsharingsecrets:
SharingSecrets Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2009
no problem,
i love your work!
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:iconawasteof-paint:
Awasteof-paint Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2009
:heart: !
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:icontrickd123:
TrickD123 Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2009  Student Photographer
thank you so much for the fave! :D
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:iconstuckwithpins:
stuckwithpins Featured By Owner Jul 12, 2009  Professional General Artist
Thanks so much for the fav. :hug:
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:iconsharingsecrets:
SharingSecrets Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2009
no problem (:
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