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Laugh a Little, Will You?“Life is funny, don’t you think?” I say to myself, as I sit on the brink
Of my chair, alone in my room, listening to clamoring of down-stair
Voices echoing through the hallway, up the walls to where my body lay.
“There are eight planets,” my brother says, his voice carried by the waves
Of particles, bouncing through the strain of collaborating, clashing into my brain.
I nod unconsciously to the fact, towards the room void of comforting contact;
My mind revolves around the idea, the simple thought, the laugh, the media
In which my humor falls short, but there’s nothing else to do but laugh as sport
To the thought that life is humorous, in fact, that irony is numerous
In many ways, and yet still I hope that one day that emotional pain will change.
I hope it will blossom, it will develop, it will trot and run and gallop
Away from me, away from my heart in which it turns and twists and stops the start;
I wish it to cease its embellishment, it grave d
Good Bye Forever“Good riddance,” I said as I touched my head and wiped
Off a tear from my cheek.
Of course that doesn’t mean that I
Don’t still care about the times we shared week after week.
But so long for now, perhaps somehow this event will
Yield good tidings.
Even so, be it though, I highly doubt it will.
For both of us, be as it must,
Our bond is clearly severed.
Regret will set, as it already has, but
Eventually it will wander. Perhaps we may
Very easily say that always is never the answer.
Even still, I hold my will to continue and move farther, faster. I know you will
Run, as you’ve always done, but I wish that one day you’ll find your destination.
SurviveThe plan was simple. It was supposed to be him and me against the world. That’s what we always said it was—him and me; us against the world. It was supposed to be a metaphor; something to sympathize with, just a little sentiment thrown into our lives. It wasn’t supposed to literally mean that.
It’s too bad it ended up that way.
The sky was growing dark and rainy. It fit the mood, unfortunately. He stood by the window, looking out of it, searching. I sat on the couch of our living room, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to stop the tears. He was silent as he investigated. It frightened me. I had turned the television off hours ago after we watched the news. That’s when he went to the window.
They’re really out there, aren’t they?
No. You can’t know for sure.
You saw the news. You saw what was there. You know—
I don’t know anything. That’s why I’m waiting.
We shouldn’t be waiting.
You should be somewhere saf
His eyes are like crystal, they’re full of color,
Of compassion, of emotion, of love.
His heart burns like fire, but can shatter like ice,
Like glass, like shards and leave blood.
His touch is like cotton, his kiss like silk,
His love is my kindness, my faith, my build.
His words are my structure, his belief is my fault,
My love is his conviction, his chains, his guilt.
His loyalty lies within my soul, it’s strong,
It’s structured, it takes its toll.
For my affection is not timed, it’s oblique,
It’s uncertain, but I hope that forever
He will stay mine.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More