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gift - for CatThe first thing Lance wanted to do as soon as he got home from work was plop down on his bed and have a nice long nap. But Jackqueline wasn't going to let that happen. As soon as he walked through the door of his apartment, she was there in front of him, blue eyes big in her face and hands worrying themselves.
"Uhm . . . Lance . . . "
He blinked at her, unsure of how to respond. "Jackqueline . . . first things first. What are you doing in my apartment? Are you demented?"
"I came to say hello to Rex and drop off some lunch for him. He doesn't usually eat lunch and I wanted him to have a little something. So . . . we ate lunch together and stuff. I talked most of the time and he just sat there. I'm not sure what was going on in his head, but I don't think it was good. I tried to get him to talk to me about it, but he didn't really want to. I suppose that's okay and I should expect it "
"Get to the point." At this rate, he'd never find out what was going on and he had a bad feeling
60 - Rejection: TearsHe hadn't cried since the funeral. No, never mind the funeral, he hadn't cried since the day he'd gotten the phone call telling him his parents had been in a car crash. He'd raced home, been driven to the hospital by his aunt, and then been told both parents had suffered fatal injuries and had no chance of survival.
He'd refused to accept that. He'd begged, pleaded, shouted, and even screamed at the doctors to do something anything. But they couldn't. No one could.
The funeral hadn't made any difference. The impact still hadn't hit him. He felt like all he had to do was make a phone call and his dad would be there on the other end, telling him it had all been some sort of sick joke and everything was going to return to normal.
The day after the funeral he even tried calling his dad's cell phone, fingers trembling over the buttons as he pressed them, heart fluttering in his chest as he lifted the phone to his ear.
His aunt found him frozen like that with his hand pressing the pho
RainWhen all the colors run together
And rainbows trace their fingers
Down my window in drops of
Rainwater, I have to stop and listen.
Listen to the rain making little
Animal footsteps on the roof and
Windows, while the rainbow drops
Chase each other down the glass.
Angels and Shooting Stars - 4"Every life has a choice - to rise above, to fill the void. Every heart has a mission, and we are called to be human."
- "Human" by Jordin Sparks (singer and songwriter)
It was his cellphone ringing that brought Lance out of his thoughts. Three days had passed since the accident, but he hadn't been to visit Rex once due to the fact the boy was in a drug induced coma to ensure minimal brain swelling from his concussion. He'd petitioned one of Rex's nurses to call him if she was able once they brought Rex out of the coma.
Therefore, he answered his phone immediately without even glancing at the screen to see who was calling. It had to be the nurse since people rarely called him.
"Is this Lance Kilkenny?"
"Yes." A knot of worry was forming in his throat, but he forced it down with a swallow.
"We've called the people who looked after Rex at the therapy center, but we were told to call you as well. Rex was slowly brought out of his drug-induced coma, but
b-day gift - for KatiaThe fire crackled and the wood within the hot flames popped loudly, sending sparks toward the starlit sky.
Blade watched them with his head tipped back, a small smile on his face. He looked to be dreaming to himself those blue eyes of his were farther away than the stars. A gentle breeze whispered through the trees and spun the sparks from the fire around and around, sending them into a frenzied dance. The breeze ruffled Blade's pale blonde, almost white, hair and made him close his eyes for a moment before opening them again.
Orethan watched his brother in silence, eyes dark with the intensity of his gaze. He often wondered what drew his brother away like that. What about those sparks entranced him so much that his full attention was on them?
A slight frown crinkled his brow and he reached up to rub it away with his fingers. Sighing softly, he let his eyes wander away from Blade and up to the sparks that seemed to fascinate the boy so much.
After about a minute of wa
Clytie and ApolloShe resides on the river bank,
Never leaving as she waits
For the sunrise, whose rays
She drinks with eyes full of love.
She watches Apollo's chariot
As he traverses the bright blue sky
Toward the western horizon,
Fair skin shining in the sunbeams.
Her heart sinks with the sun.
Eyes watching as the last of the
Light vanishes with the shimmering
Golden head of the sun god.
Apollo never once bends to
Acknowledge small Clytie; but
He is not aware of her passionate
Love for him and his brilliance.
Night after night she waits,
Anxious to see Apollo's chariot
Speeding up over the horizon,
Heading on the same sky-path.
Her love for him never dwindles,
And the gods are inclined to take
Pity on the girl and turn her into
A flower, reflecting Apollo's face.
The sunflower resides on the river bank,
Never leaving as it patiently waits
For the sunrise, whose rays warm its face,
Which its petals soak, trembling with love.
gift - for JennaI found myself chasing stars again last night.
Every time I came upon one I couldn't resist
I traced its outline with my fingertips,
Painting the air afterward with stardust.
It's easier to believe in fairies and magic
Surrounded by the sparkling stars and drifting clouds.
gift - for KatiaAs Lance entered his apartment, he was greeting by an intense silence. Of course, it wasn't usually loud when he got home every night, but he was used to hearing Rex doing something around the place: scrounging around in the kitchen, drawing with his pencils scratching and squeaking across his sketch paper, doing his homework with music playing in the background, or . . . pretty much anything that didn't require such a dead silence.
A frown wrinkled his face as he hung up his jacket and pulled off his shoes. "Rex?"
A knot of worry began to form in the pit of his stomach. Had Rex gone out of the apartment without his knowledge? Not that it would be wrong of him if he had, it just wasn't something he usually did. Taking a breath in hopes it would calm the speeding up of his heart, he let his gaze wander down to where he'd placed his own shoes. Rex's were in their usual spot, so he obviously hadn't gone for a walk or anything.
His frown turned into one of confusion as he headed
gift - for ZepheliaThe soft flakes of snow drifted down to rest on Shym's upturned face and he let out a faint sigh, his breath coming out in a puff of warm air against the cold. The moon set the snow to glittering in a seemingly endless blanket of immaculate white. His eyes flickered shut and he felt snowflakes accumulating on his eyelashes.
A moment later, all his breath was forced from his lungs as something cannoned into his stomach. He instantly knew what that "something" was and his eyes snapped open to focus on Uketim. Thankfully, his stomach had been slightly padded by his winter clothes.
He gasped, desperately trying to get his breath back as he mustered up a feeble glare. It wasn't very effective with him lying on the ground in a deep drift of snow and with his triplet sitting comfortably on his chest, arms folded, mouth curled up in a smirk.
Finally, he began to breathe normally, and he also registered the snow melting down his neck. He sniffed, nose running from the cold. "Uketim, get off."
Beyond LoveYou say 'beautiful' like a mistake -
like it slipped out unwarranted
from those dark parts of your mind
that you don't want me to go to,
you say it like that.
You caress like it's worship -
like if you pressed too hard
or took too much, you'd pay the price
and I love those urgent times when
you're willing to pay it.
You teach me love like I'll die without it -
like if you don't defrost me
and my frozen image of myself,
then I might stop breathing
and extinguish beneath my own icy damnation.
You kiss me like you have to -
like we're sharing an oxygen tank
in a toxic, broken-down universe
and you are trying not to breathe
to save me.
You kiss me like that.
You love me, like that -
how am I supposed to resist
a man who loves me beyond his own sense
and senses - beyond love ?
In SanityI find myself in a world of white,
This place it feels so pure.
The Sun's rays are warm and bright
I've never felt so sure.
I explore the land and all its sights,
I enjoy the world's grand tour.
I wander around until the night
Shows what it has in store.
In the darkness, a speck of light
Reveals a hidden door.
I turn the handle and peer inside,
A sight I can't endure.
I turn to run, to escape my plight,
I dare not to explore.
But something inside catches my eye,
I can't resist the lure.
I awake to find myself tied tight,
A voice tries to assure,
"This one may finally fix you right,
Maybe this is the cure."
kafka has been dead foreveri.
I am going to cut the veins out of my neck:
pull the stars from the legiments
drown the cities in bruises
I am going to burn in hell:
tear down the pyramids, the faces, the continents
the weight of the universe
(if I live to be 20
I will know the landscape of my mind
as well as the bottom of the ocean
& people I've never met)
I willI will love you
all the way to the place where ladybirds go to die,
to the lushest corners of the earth
that hold the secrets no man was meant to see
and we will find them, and know them together.
I will love you
all the way to the place where bubbles are made
at the bottom of a glass of cider
that blisters the glass with condensation
as we trade hats and laugh at the way the air smiles.
I will love you
all the way inside a branch where buds dream of Becoming,
where those one-day-flowers stir wooden hearts
into an uprising, into a blossoming life
and we will plant our ambitions there, in the blooming place.
I will love you
all the way to the square brackets that hold our boxes
because you are my best friends, and you will be
as we fold papery hands around paper-cut wrists and cry
and mourn eighty-odd years flown by too fast. Even then.
Even then, I will love you still.
Pop Rocksbeads of roman sweat and dust
lace the wind like meth into pop rocks—
feel the fizzlepop of history flamenco
across your justahuman tongue
and wonder why your professor never
lectured on the strawberry tang
of crusaders' sloshed blood.
the secret is the almond
in your brain
you should listen when it screams
to run away
there is nothing
in your ribcage
one half of a clichè.
if I'm made
of bones and chemicals,
cold calculus, or
man of science
tell me why
think away the pain.
Do not be ridiculous,
love was just dark chocolate,
of rancid coffee.
sunset soon forgottenin a single moment all her greatness collapsed,
her soulfulness small and full of absence.
i am wild
with infinite shades of yes -
and a careless smile
so kiss me quick
under the sun
(just until the pain leaves)
DunesOut on the dunes, you could be walking on the moon
Maybe you are, maybe we are; see that planet in the sky?
How much more can be said about body heat, about
Sucking the marrow from bones in a vain attempt to quench?
Disheveled by dust-storms in an ocean of sand, we walk
Blank-window eyes searching for what, some sort of life?
Our feet are heavy, the ground wants to eat them; no moon, this
Now the sky is the color of sand, and there are no stars to wish on
Sweat and dead weight, we wait for the coolness of night
Fatigued, delusional, we see a rusty car approach; we get in
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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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