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Lost PrincessShe never wanted to be royal. That was the most striking quality about her. She was always willing to put away her tiara and be normal. That is, in fact, all she wanted. She would never let her servants call her 'Your Highness' or bow to her. She was humble and kind but always knew what she wanted and how to get it.
When I saw her on the street amongst the mud and trash. I thought, 'She looks out of place it's almost as if she wore her gown out of the palace'. She stopped and leaned against an abandoned bread cart. I felt awkward to bear witness to such a private moment in which she realized what kind of life her people lead. I closed my eye
my beloved IHe told me he loved me.
With tender hands he'd rake his fingers through my hair in the afternoon, when nothing but passing lights from the street flickered across the walls, shadows dancing lightly onto his strained face. With warm lips he'd whisper honey flavoured asphyxiating words whose meaning I could never fully grasp, nipping slowly, dangerously high up my shoulders, playing cold fingertips onto my feverish skin. He'd close his eyes and kiss the base of my neck hungrily, growling huskily at my stubbornness and foolishness.
I was sitting upright every time, blinking lazily through the fog in my head and trying to remember t
Game NightIris showed up at exactly the wrong time, as usual.
There was a rather large amount of screaming as a forrest worth of nymphs stampeded out of the room in surprise, leaving Zeus scrabbling to obscure himself from the giggling eyes of the rainbow goddess.
"What?" he snapped, humiliation lending his tone a tempestuous edge.
Iris, in an uncharacteristic display of self-control managed to scale back the giggling and say "It's Wednesday. You know what that means."
Zeus groaned with that peculiar whine native to all those facing down the business end of an evening in with the Spanish Inquisition's most eager new employee, and said "Must I?"
The Day I Discovered... I would like to say that it was a summer day that started out like any other, but even that is not true. There was something in the air; from the moment I woke up, I could feel it. It was unnerving and unrelenting. It was a darkness, a heaviness, and I knew from the start, that day something was going to change. That day was going to define me.
I couldn't have been more than eight years old. I woke up lacking the eagerness of normal children. It was a Sunday and I was dressed in something pretty and girly and herded off to church with the rest of my family. There was nothing special about that morning except that I did not feel like
She's The Girl 2.0
She was the girl who ran in circles because geometry had taken hold of her mind ever since she had missed the parallel lines in the middle of the road and crashed into an oncoming car. It's been 3 years since the accident and you can still see the scars on her side from where they had to remove the splintered fragments of her ribs and a piece of her ruptured spleen. They say she's lucky to be alive but she'll just tell you she's lucky to have passed geometry.
She was the girl who would listen to the same song on repeat for hours because she didn't like change and found comfort in the fact that she knew what was coming next. One da
Air of Trust A second day of faithful peace brings warm thoughts, and as they remind me of much more than what I know, I discover an air long lost in absence. Its cold, quiet, and all too soothing for it to go unnoticed. I breath it and so I trust it. Here it is now comforting my time and memory... holding me... reasuring me of a promise done long before my time. It's breeze whispers all too silently for ears to hear what so calmly speaks. It whispers again... with a tone so pure within grace that it reaches the essence of my inborn nature... and so from the depths of my next breath, I began to feel my fall.
CreationEvery time I draw, there's this feeling.
A feeling that I can do anything and that i have the ability to make people feel.
My art can stir emotion.
And this makes me happy.
When I look at other people's art, I'm in shock.
It's all so amazing and inspiring.
Thank you art, for being pure creation.
Contemplation (I am chaos)
Introspection is painful, and the pain piercing-
knowing yourself, your inner workings
discovering the piece of you that
(I am deciding)
Judgments are harsh when a heart feels this way-
desiring nothing but complete and utter destruction of the thing
disturbing the inner workings
(I am worn)
It means so much and it means so little, warring with the self,
deciding for tomorrow-
(I am terrified of the whispers in my mind.)
AsylumEvery day is the same here at St. James'.
For those on the outside the sun rises, the sun dies.
But for those within these stone walls the sun no longer exists.
It is barely a memory.
Our spirits fade within this place made to help us, and by the time we're released
we are only shells. Useless.
Whitewashed stone walls line the way, blank, and empty, and white. People file past me at random, two by two. Always two. One always in a pale blue, the other always in white. Always.
This place seems to carry no smell other than the ones given off by the sanitary gels. Only those wh