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hushed-lullabies

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to the end of the earth

if you should die before the right time i would hope the world would stop spinning and start crumbling away until gravity was nonexistent and i would run to the edge until my feet lifted off the ground and i was united with you once more

Literature

losing my religion

you're making me lose my faith those who claim they believe in the same God as me He is all-loving, His son respected everyone and that's how we're supposed to be yet you judge so quickly those who love someone of the same gender those with different skin color those who have different beliefs when did you become so perfect? you say you believe in the same God as me Well it's about time you prove it you're making me question my faith you who say 'there is no God' or 'prove it' over and over again maybe I can't prove He exists but can you prove He doesn't? let everyone believe what they want and respect those who respect you

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self-portrait (in writing)

i. I believe in love, music, and myself because that's what's gotten me through the tough stuff better than anything else ii. a big voice doesn't mean anything if the lyrics don't speak to me iii. so go on and let me down for the millionth time and turn your back to me after you've lit a fire in my heart so strong you'd swear my whole body was in flames iv. i'm trying not to think about you too (it's not working very well) for what it's worth i miss you too

Maximilian101

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The World of My Dreams

Out of the grass sprang gentle hands that carried me over a field of clovers And I drifted beneath the clouds, gazing in the idle wonder that creeps upon men like curling ivy There was no bluer sky than that day, and the trees- there have never been more hearty trees than the giant oaks towering above me as the hands carried me further- And when I awoke in this mysterious land, I breathed in the scent of moist grass, relieved to find that it was not just a dream, and that the world in which I lived was as beautiful as the world of my dreams

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Journey of the Stars

Can you see the millions of stars across the sky? Where, upon the morrow, they will all fly, To the darkest depths and the furthest planes, Of this world and the next, strung along like trains We reach out to grab them, to be strung along But they do not wait and leave us, with solemn song Do they, you wonder, go into the dark? To shine their light in a brilliant ark? To light this world anew, maintain its life, Along with other worlds, soothing like a fife? When darkness is upon us, when all seems dark and bleak, They come ahead and guide us, to show us what we seek I wish that I could join them, to be among their ranks, But it

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Untouched Books

Dirty fingerprints crust the pages Of the books of forgotten lore That have laid here before all ages Untouched from before- Unconcerned with reason or rhyme, Longing for those finger-shaped prints, They have waited all this time, To be imprinted with darkened tints But all that meets them is the chilly air, And the quiet whispers of phantoms past; And still they wait with silent flair, To be marked with fingers again at last

Oilux

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Drawings

"Drawings" I drew on the walls when life wasn’t enough the drawings were scribbles that made no simple sense yet when I drew they came alive my heart and soul expressed pretty ponies and dinosaurs all simple scribbles of mine when the parent returned and saw my mess the blood that stained drew a prettier picture than my simple scribbles

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Mistakes

If every mistake I ever made was a scar on my body there would be no pure skin. Every inch would host a jagged line where my so called 'selfish pride' managed to get the better of me. Idiot mistakes of my youth, and moronic declarations of what I thought was insignificant. Mistakes, errors of judgment, a complete lapse in sense, that litter my skin with memories of pain. For a moment I thought I was important not someone to be overlooked. My selfish pride betwixt me for everything was little compared to the pride I raised. A fall to Earth waking on concrete no one besides me. My mistakes are scars littering my skin ta

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Paper Butterflies

A cut, a tear, a fold, slice of color and a cut or two, and another paper butterfly is born. IV drips in the hand keeping everything in place while the cuts and tears and folds keeps going on. One thousand, six hundred and sixty six. That's the number she was told to make. One thousand, six hundred and sixty six. Until she can get a wish. A nice nurse had told her so, and shown her how to make them but she had only made thirty out of the one thousand, six hundred and sixty six paper butterflies. It seemed like such an impossible number that one thousand six hundred and sixty six but our patient needed that wish just li

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Poems

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The Cycle

Here I am again, aching. My heart pounds to my ribs, my lungs squeezing, my chest tightening, hoarding my tears. When I couldn't take it anymore, I'll run back to your safety (cause I don't feel safe with me); a safe haven that I know wouldn't last - a comfort and joy that's temporary. When everything starts crashing, I'll run back to myself again - trying to recover, thinking that I'm healing - then the aching begins again. It's a cycle; it keeps on repeating.

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Look

Sadness In my eyes Scars All over me Are hidden In plain sight For you to see If you dare To take a closer look

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Reasons and love

Love the one you can't stop [thinking about Like there's no [tomorrow, And let that become [your reason to live

Poetry

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Something Sinister

A ring around the rosy Let them laugh lightly Pocket full of posies Watch them sleep tightly Something with poison And pleasing to the eye Poppies to make them sleep And sleep until they die Something sinister is stirring Beneath the fragile skin A daisy for lost innocence Scarlet rose for my sin Not once have blossoms healed Not once have petals saved Something sinister is stirring There's lilies on my grave Something sinister is stirring Buried in the ground Dust to dust, and ashes, Ashes, we all fall down

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Clipped Wings

It begins slowly As such works of veiled wickedness do So soft and gradual that the perpetrator himself does not even guess At the sheer nauseating extent of his control He starts with the foreplay of caressing words - Insidious whispers slithering across a moonlit pillow Forming a chain around the young girl’s mind Like the tender entwining of his fingers around her slender throat So white, swan-white, in the waning night As he suffocates her with his dominance And so it goes, night after night Day after brittle star-haunted day Manipulative words sliding into seashell ears, gently Tickling her psyche like the feathers of a

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Poetry

random words on the page speak of broken dreams and pent-up rage spilling out ink from the pen burn it all start again

Poetry

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Time

Too much time on my hands Too much of it alone Grasping for connection When found it's bittersweet Getting what I want is refreshing A taste of what it could be Yet I still can't be happy It isn't coming from you I want it to Don't know what to hold onto What to believe My world is built of fragile glass On which I am afraid to tread Don't dare move Don't dare breathe Don't want to wake up from the dream What will be there when I wake Feelings so strong and true Not enough to hold us together Look at me See me How desperately I wait Until I wither away inside Don't want to let go Wake me from my nightmare

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The Silver Cord

The Silver Cord I'm trying to figure out How you fit into my life - It feels like our destinies are entwined; An invisible silver cord... Somehow, I knew you. When we first met - You had my heart; Unknowing, to you or I... My soul recognized A kindred spirit in your eyes - I wanted to fix what was broken; Your eyes, hinting at the pain beneath... Still, you were charming in your own way. Your smile, amused when I was awkward Yet your hugs always feel like home And I never want to let go... I wish I knew the reason why, We were brought together years ago The pull of this cord, unending.... This bond, everlasting....

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What is Love?

What is love? By TonyTeeTee 8/13/16 What is Love? That kind of feeling people speak of Is the feeling when you see a pure white dove Or the feeling when a boy puts on his first baseball glove I thought I had that feeling when I heard the angels sing from up above The inspiration that commanded me to write of But that feeling dies down when she’s not the one I truly think of When the love I thought I had becomes undreamed of And you decide it’s time to walk out of Then I think about the one I truly think of My baby my heart my real true love Makes me remember and answers my question of What is love? Dedicated to B.T.T

Featured in Groups

stuck-on-homestuck

Shitshitshit

arachnidsGrip8

Published: Dec 18, 2012

100 Views

Description

I'm so great at nammessss.

I did some Karezi. Because It's the best ship. BEST. I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP.

Image size

1276x756px 93.4 KB

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