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Amythist Gray She was the girl with black hair and tons of eyeliner. The girl with black clothes and more piercings then i could probably count.
Her name was Amythist Gray, or so she said. She got called
'Emo bitch' and a freak every day, and she just hung her head and let her bangs cover everything.
I wasn't majorly popular or an over-tight nerd either. I was the quiet one who liked to sit outside and draw.
I liked to think i was a good artist, and drew everything. One day in the courtyard I was doodling a girl...
She wore a pixi like dress made of the night sky. Her hair was so dark it flickered purple in the light. She looked over a
moving orb and constellations formed her background.
A loud splat and laughter interrupted my steal like concentration on my goddess.
A jock had threw his sports drink all over Amythist. I guess she finally cracked...
or just lost her sanity for a few moments. Everyone was laughing and pointing.
Possibly a story?My blood. Oh God my blood.
it flowed from every opened wound on my
body. I feel.. No.. scratch that. I AM broken.
My wrist, my leg i feel it. The bone. Protrding from
my skin. Like some malicous thing, coming to attack me.
Only... It is me. Well a part of me anyways..
I need a doctor.. And some morphine. Yes morphine, morphine
is the God's necter when you're in the condition i seem to be in.
I'm seeping blood from my pores.. Yes i need morphine.. Lots of it.
Maybe some more blood to.
Dying.. I. Am. Dying. There is no other
way to put it. I'm laying here, with glass stuck in every
piece of my skin, and i'm calm.. Maybe the clam before the storm..
Nahh i'm way to calm.. maybe some random person drove by
when i was still un-concious and was like, "Well that seems to
be a horrible car wreck. Oh poor girl.. here i'll just dope her
up with the ever so convient random syringe of numbing drug i have
in my jeans pocket." Damn people. I should be thankfull that the person
that may or maynot've s
To daddy.life has always been a game to me.
I never wondered what i couldn't be.
You told me, "Be whatever you please."
And i felt like i brought the world to it's knees.
That one girl with a venom tounge
A beutiful song she always sung.
Weither it shall sting, or wheither it shall
sooth, she spoke the words, velvet smooth.
Red her hair. Much like her temper,
She was so stubborn. Couldn't help her.
She liked it that way. No one else
had room to stay.
Your 2 cents never spent.
Good advice always lent.
Trust me she did, she took it to heart.
And to her brain. She grew so smart.
That one little girl, you told to be,
anything and everything she ever pleased.
Grew up strong and grew up good.
Just like you all knew she would.
Puppet.In and out the
as the clock bellows.
Twelve o'clock, mindnight,
sun is absent,
Puppet you are
held by strings,
As the metal cuts
deep. Burns and stings.
No happy endings,
they spoil the truth.
As his body drops dead,
trapped in youth.
You flee laughing, feeling alive...
Poor poor family... They couldn't survive.
The gamePretty pink ribbons.
Pretty pink pearls.
BIG blue eyes
and perfect blonde curls.
Dark black nails
Dark black hair.
Bright green eyes
and mascara applied
A musical laugh
and golden hair thrown
The Ruler of
school eats up attention.
yyuuuummmm a tasty snack.
A hidden eye and covered
The shadow dewler hates the light.
Skin moonbeam kissed.
The Flawless vixen tricks
Steals a boyfriend. a girls heart.
Makes a lover.
The child of black sits
alone. Emptyness she feels
She doesn't want to act,
She says that. But isn't sure.
The 'perfect' girl lockes the stall.
And presses her 'boyfriend' agenst the
Love ha! it's a lie to her.
It was never real, but she -also- isn't sure.
The lover and child are much the same.
They act like don't feel so ashamed.
Like they don't feel like they somehow don't belong.
And there life is a cliche. Inspration of a broken love song.
The curls and pearls have there favorites.
Black hair and pale
Vampyre love.He held her close.
Breathed in her ear,
and whispered sweet nothings.
She closed her eyes and savored the bliss.
It hurt. At first. Then nothing but sheer bliss.
Like seeing through gauze, her vision half blured.
Making loud noises as he carried on,
Then.... everything blossemed untill she
couldn't take it anymore.
Crying out in pleasure, she heard a growl
escape his chest.
Nails scored his back and raked her
His heart beat under her skin,
her's under his. His plesure in
her belly, she could feel it.
Her blood filling him. Making
him moan louder and louder.
Her own pleasure eminating from
This vampyre... made her melt.
Fire licked at her whole body, and
she scrame louder, his name, scratching
Then he pulled back breathing hard.
Nothing was more precious than that moment.
His ice blue eyes locked on her emerald ones.
Falling beside her and running his hands
over her arms and hair.
Coaping with the thumping of his heart and hers,
That moment was the one she
Life is a Study of ContrastIf not for the darkness,
We wouldn’t know the difference
Between a star and a ball of dust.
Life is a study of contrast.
We get dark,
Not to fall apart
But to shine.
Bad HabitI think I was your drink of fine wine,
only used when needed from time to time
I'd get you tipsy, as stars collide
Your drunk, slurred words
blending in with mine
(I couldn't even comprehend
when you said it wouldn't happen again)
I think I was your cigarette break
when anxiety filled,
from me, you'd take
One puff here, and one puff there
(I could barely hear
when you said, "I'm sorry, dear")
I think I was your line of cocaine,
thinking I'd be there to ease your pain
I'd bring you higher,
head suspended in clouds
(So I knew it was fake,
when you said, "It was my mistake")
I think I was your bad habit,
and ignorantly, you were mine
You continue to relapse, my dear
But rest assured:
I won't this time.
How to Hug from Far AwayType and write, your arms wide open,
smile through emotions, the warming moment.
Far away, but so very close.
For the friends and family, you love the most.
Create a letter, then press enter,
send your love you’re no pretender.
Across the sea, one day you’ll meet.
For friends and family, you’ll one day greet.
Retrieve a message, return the hug,
feel so better, a different love.
From different lands, gentle hands.
For friends and family, who make you glad.
It’s easy to hug from far away,
But harder to feel, the warmth we need.
WallsTell them all your secrets.
They'll never tell a soul.
They'll keep you standing up
When your body's had its toll.
Beat them in your anger.
They'll never scream or cry.
They'll let you vent your feelings
And never pester why.
Hide within their safety.
They'll keep you tucked away.
They'll let in just enough light
For you to know it's day.
Unrequited LoveAn act of admirable courage
from the sincerest of hearts
a love that I cannot encourage
the feeling in me then departs.
Do not be in solitary confusion
I have a burning determination
do not reach the wrong conclusion
but I must reject this fixation.
It is not you, nor is it me
please do not lose all hope
but I believe this was not meant to be
I know that you will be able to cope.
A heart with fervent ambition
may not be able to settle as easily
a pretend love cannot come to fruition
truly, I do care for you deeply.
Forgive me, how selfish am I
for turning away such a great love
please don't let your spirits die
No words of appeasement to think of.
I apologize endlessly for your unrequited love.
Maiden of the Olive Oil TreeMaiden of the olive oil tree -
caryatid body, color of cream,
how do you fare against the crumbling temple?
How do you fare against the pressure
weighting upon your chest?
For you have long kept this temple,
broken, like a mother.
You have long adorned it
with your cultivated crest.
But when the framework falters -
the foundation all decaying -
will you climb the olive branches,
free, no more inept?
And bathe in oil satin,
to smooth the ancient scarring,
as time releases tension
from your ankles to your breasts.
His Last Kill"Open the window," he said to me,
one morning after the sparrow had died.
"Cast his feather, his copper wing,
his beak of honor, his perch of pride."
But I couldn't cast them - set them free -
to the breeze or to the rolling tide,
for the sky was static, the water - bleak,
and the conscience of my suitor - denied.
DeanThere is a boy named Dean.
I knew him for so long
before we were pre-teens.
Actually, we were born
days apart, just three.
Not long after
our friendship would start.
This boy was full of life
and loved to have fun.
When he was ten years old
the doctors realized
that between his
red cells and white
something was not quite right.
There were us few,
who helped him through,
just Sam, David, and I.
Of course, his parents,
and Tony too.
Remission was soon
we could see the end
this boy was so strong
nothing can go wrong.
He was healed.
He grew healthier,
he grew out his hair.
All the long, I was there.
He was my best friend,
and I was his wimpy little girl.
We would wrestle in the grass
we grew close so fast.
We made silly games in the pool,
we jumped on the trampoline,
which my parents never knew.
We played tetherball,
looked at stars and just talked.
I developed the biggest crush.
It was a different time then,
all I did was blush!
Of course I couldn’t tell him!
Percisly plasticShe climbed to the top of the tree.
A cut on her hand and a bruise on her knee.
Her dad was smiling, always happy.
Laughed at jokes, no matter how crappy.
Her mother perfect in all.
her blush and perfume made her a doll.
Percisly plastic. It's in her blood.
If she could change her life,
She certainly would.
The moon looks down, eyes full of sad.
The pity she feels angers her. Boils her blood
The tears drip down like a rain shower.
Falling down.. Making her feel trapped
Her body a tower.
The silver of her razor glitters in the
beams of the pityful moon.
And she knows, blissful pain is
Her skin redddens in protest,
as the razor glides over a vein the closest.
Just like the tear the blood drips down.
Coating and covering the once green
The wounds scream her secreat.
Even though she always planned to keep it.
The braclets and bangels hide the truth.
The truth that mom has broken bones and chipped a tooth.
The truth that dad never smiles at her, makes her 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