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Cancerous CompanyWhy am I allowed peace
Why am I given release
And then I return to reality
Creased with sunken fatality
My eyes are ridden with dullness
From sleep deprivation and tiredness
These premonitions are killing me
And I'm the only one who sees
Lend me a hand so I can waste with comfort
Give me your gaze so I won't hurt
I need to remember what is and isn't real
What am I or aren't I still going to feel
No one is here, they've all left by now
I figured they'd disappear somehow
Go sin and leave, steal, take
Yet I must survive in your wake
This isn't supposed to happen This isn't supposed to happen to me.
I'm not living a song.
Then why do I feel so sickeningly?
Why do I insist on going on?
I'm an old truck that even no hipster would love
Just broken and ripped from all my use
My Lord, take me to your above
Save me from this reality I refuse
How could I have been dropped in the rain?
I shouldn't have gone down screaming
But I guess lyrics aren't all the same
But it's true that hearts don't break even.
I wish I had him, I wish I could stay
With her it's the only resolution I should take
Nothing is fair anymore, there is no only way
This is growing up now, this isn't fake
EnglandxReader: Oh dear."Oh, God, don't start that again!" You groan.
"Bl- Bu- What? My on-the-spot recipes are the most exquisite dish at the party, and it takes less time than following a recipe," Arthur retorts.
You eye the peppermint extract, white chocolate chips, coloring dye, and coconut closely. Arthur sniffs and ties the apron around his midriff tighter.
Sighing, you return back to the table and pull out a chair. As you begin to read the most interesting headline in today's paper, Arthur hunches over the counter, laying his hands on the edge of the counter.
"So... that's... it? No more nagging or-or... advice?" He asks rather solemnly.
You turn around slowly in your chair, peering at the Briton. His forest green eyes were on the table, his bottom lip slightly sucked inward.
"Do you want me to chastise you? Jeebus, that's a little masochistic."
"N-No, it's just this is the first time you've let it... slide, y'know? Does that mean they're actually good?"
You blush and stammer,"Um-that's..
FrancexReader: GiftsAs 'It's Beginning To Look Like Christmas' began to waft comfortably around the room, and Francis returned to your side.
You sigh and nuzzle into his side, and he lays his arm over the frame of the couch by your neck.
"Bing Crosby is perfect," You murmur.
Francis chuckles his French chuckle and replies,"I know you like the back f my own hand, do I not?"
You smile,"Then what do I want for Christmas?"
He blinks and responds immediately,"Me."
You laugh and shake your head.
"Wha....A scarf set with gloves and a hat."
"No, but if thats what you want, I know a place."
Francis holds his forehead with his free hand in anguish, "Mon dieu.... What is it you desire?"
His eyebrow twitches unseemly.
You shrug and grin.
"So, my cooking talents are the only things that you truly love? I am offended...." Francis frowns.
"Its not that I enjoy the food, I love that you're giving me something you made, even if you're thinking about my g
PrussiaxReader: I'm so sorry what did I...."But it's tomorrow~!" You whine.
"So, what's the big deal?! You don't understand the glory of having a birthday on the weekend, do you?" Gilbert argues exasperatedly.
You hmph, just as exasperated as him. "But when it's not on a school day, no one but my family can wish me a happy birthday! All my friends are busy, and I have nothing to do but watch television!"
Gilbert exhales and crosses his arms, looking down at you with his impossibly garnet eyes. "You know, you kinda come off as a little selfish there. Just a bit."
You blush wildly. "What, so I'm a conceited brat if I want to be with friends rather than family on the day of my birth?"
Gilbert's frame collapses as he huffs. "Why're you telling me all of this, anyway? I'm supposed to be there, isn't that good enough?"
You start, but let it go and give him a hug. "Sorry. it's just it's always on a day where no one but my family can celebrate, for some reason. I'm cursed."
He snickers, wrapping his arm over your sh
IcelandxReader: Galaxy DreamsI watch her. She's fascinating...
Like I have a choice to look anywhere else...
Each day I'm trapped in a mirror, but though I have no recollection why, its worth the prison.
There's a girl here I like a lot. She can hum pretty well and is neat and has a pretty face.
The girl stays in her room a lot, and she reads, and doodles, and does her homework. Her radio is always playing music; she's like that. There's always music.
Sometimes, after her showers, she hums to the music as she gets her clothes prepared. I still have the courtesy to close where I think my eyes should be, but once I saw her and it like a dream. It could've been, but I don't think I dream. I don't know, maybe. But, I now that if I did, that would be the best dream I've ever had.
She's slender in a curvy way, not bony, and her hair slides over her shoulders like a solid, silky waterfall. Her eyes darken whenever she looks into the mirror, and I like to imagine that she's trying to find a way to get me out
AmericaxReader: Something Different"Just as I eat something, or sit down, I'm practically gaining calories in the hundreds!" Alfred whines gloomily as you hold up a way-too-small sweater to his masculine frame. "Why does food decide to be so rich just as it enters my mouth?"
You frown deeply and sigh,"Alfred, nothing about you is fat, obese, overweight, pudgy, or chubby! You're always skipping meals or working out! I'm surprised you're not dead of malnutrition!" You carelessly throw the hanger at the rack and continue looking for a more appropriate sweater.
"Yeah, but then I eat, like, a whole pile of the only food that tastes good!" He retorts, hastily huffing.
"You're fine," You say, and press your lips comfortingly on his cheek.
He stares at you, his unbelieving blue-eyed gaze harsh smoldering your eyes.
You can't held but let a pout spread upon your lips. "Well, maybe you should find a better diet. Or maybe just eating right could change your taste buds," You scold in a quiet voice. "Isn't this
These DaysAll the girls aren't worthwhile if not thin
All clothes aren't acceptable if they are not 'in'
No one can get rest after putting their electronic to sleep
No one ever goes to a store without thinking of what to eat
Why do our lives have a due date, why do we think time ends
Why should we follow all the media's latest trends
Everyone has to have a label in order to be noticed
Everyone has to pretend to not be focused
Since when do we have to try to be so different?
Since when did people forget they are made omnipotent?
Some generous being made us, why can't we accept that and be happy
Some, if not all, are wishing this in their minds just like me
Request ArthurxReader"Another one?" You ask, your eyes boggling slightly at your creative friend Arthur.
"Yes! It's brilliant, and theres no way it'l shock anyone again!" He enthused.
You sigh and chuckle, taking a seat at your table. "Well, what does this one do?"
He laughs giddily and reaches into the box he's placed next to his clipboard, pulling out an orange cloth thing...
"A banana shirt!" Arthur announces, and quickly pulls it on over his head. Pointing to the oblong pocket on his left, he explains,"You can put your banana here to hold. For busy mornings when you've got too many things to hold for breakfast! With my Banana Shirt, you'll give yourself an AM relief ASAP!"
Inwardly giggling about his British pronunciation of 'banana', you ask,"Was that your presentation speech?"
"Um...Yes, but a little more...slow..." He scratches his head and turns his forest green eyes to you. "What do you think?"
You speculate as Arthur watches intently, and, impersonating his accent, say,"If you introduced a line o
The Boy Who Wouldnt EatIf you can flutter
I have failed you,
for you were not forged
to be so insubstantial as that
You were writ
to be an epic fable
of endings ignored,
of outlasting your body
through the sheer will
of a writers starving heart
through a broken, bowed
but bravely abiding body
that fights the soul
to comprehend Beauty.
Five AMPre-dawn darkness again, seething, quiet
A monster hugging the city
How heavy, how suffocating it is
The clock has run down on time for dreaming
A void between night and morning
Ready to swallow everything up
A time for old men's reflections
On love, and loss, and sorrow
Oppressive black sky, you eat everything
But the all-night diner
Where lonely old men sit
Drinking coffee at five AM
................written in a frenzy and run-on
and exclamation points
used in rapid succession
words all blurred
so bare bones it's bloody
strung out and on display
in a frightening combination
of paragraphs and stanzas
punctuation gone mad
ellipses my new black
used and abused
then spit out
in gratuitous repetition
there is no word count here
no hearts dotting the i's
just a string of letters
done up in cursive
but not very pretty at all
QuicksandYou trapped me
Dragged me below the surface
And held me there
You chained me
Put brass around my ankles
And left me struggling
You broke me
Beat me with whips made of hate
And hurt me more
You changed me
Made me who you wanted
And killed me inside
You hid me
Stole me away from the light
And made me blind
You crushed me
Blew my dust in the wind
And danced on my grave
surrounding my body
And now I'm twenty feet under
With no chance of being saved
From Your 'Secret' AdmirerHeaven,
this is not a love letter
I will swear to God,
with a halo on my head
and a hole in my heart.
But the fact is I revere you
more than I have any right to.
After all, we are nothing except
who have awkward conversations.
So why is it that every time the line
falls silent I panic, worrying that your shadow
will make my efforts nothing but a distant memory,
when every word you speak strongly marks my mind?
Simple: I fear having something to lose
and losing the nothing I have. You are
treasure to me, and this note becomes my confession.
Sincerely- I typed this, but I'm sure you'll recognize the handwriting.
Death, Judgment, RebirthLast Time in the ICU
Shadow rats, beady red eyes focused hungrily
Stay still too long and they’ll swarm
Sharp little teeth rending flesh
They know the sick and weak
They can wait
Tenth floor ICU, down with the disease again
He’s resting quietly, the nurse says
She looks like a huge black rat
Does she know what’s happening?
Closing the door
She walks away
Sweet childhood dreams are interrupted
Rats gnawing away at the edges
Toothy little kisses all over
Cleaning, cleansing scurry
Down to the bone
Sentenced to Live
Firelight, poker-faced patchwork man reading aloud
An old but vaguely familiar tome, his tone is somber
Was I one of the wicked? Weren’t we all?
Who can say that they were good?
Sentenced to live yet another life
I cry; I’ve had enough living
I want to sleep forever, leave my shell behind
To crumble to dust, useless, I won’t need it
Every door opens to the same world
Is this hell, then? The onl
give me a challenge, give me you.i have grown
the blood in my veins
have become more
than plasma, and i
am now trapped
within my own hollowed-out
this haze of
has to be transitory--
i can't let it be anything
The partyFlashing lights
Smoke all around
About to pass out
My head starts to hurt
I can't take this anymore
So without saying anything
I find the exit
And escape that place
"How can someone have fun in there?"
DistemperOh, did you scream?
No, ninety ravens
released from the rack of my ribs
in a ravage of wings
have disquieted the cat.
Oh, an aspirin for my mind
(lay your head in my hand
drink me down, feather-drown)
thin its belly-close blood
uphold the constitution
of my hollow-cast heart.
[Fire the dragon
the fairy waters her way
across the winter]
So stout, so ale,
hold fast, touch bone
Oh, you would rather die
than bring home bad meat.
What I have to sayI know I'm not perfect.
I know I'm everything but normal.
I know I like black and red.
I am hurting.
I am wondering.
I am fearing.
I will become weaker.
I will become stronger in little ways.
I will die someday.
I hate pink and gemstones.
I hate rules being forced down my throat.
I hate it when people think they know.
I don't like princesses.
I don't like celebrities.
I don't like you.
I love music, except for rap.
I love creating things.
I love it when everything is perfect.
But it's not, and neither am I.
Our DutyWe swallowed the path home
Because we were hungry,
Though starving is an ongoing
Story, an empty bag
Dancing in the streets,
Full of an unfastened voice
Walking through the house,
Wind unchained, heart admonished.
Heaven fills its eyes, crawls away,
That sleeping boat content to follow
The vacant waves, intervals
Of dying that we dare not interrupt,
And we watch the kind ear shrinking
From our charcoal docks; heaven
With a full stomach crawls away.
This is what we were put here for.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More