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A Violet Shade Of Death :DraftShe followed her gut on this...for when her family was missing the best bet was to follow her gut , at least that's what she'd learned through out the years. The young woman continued on her way humming as the sound of leaves crunching beneath her bare feet echoed in her ears. The forest was dark now only the gentle light of a crescent moon allowed her to see ahead of her. Cory. She growled in her mind. The only time she was counting on her usually sleepy and lazy younger brother to watch their other siblings while she was gone was the time the idiot helped them with their less then genius adventure plans.
New Lives And Gift KnivesNEW LIVES AND GIFT KNIVES The older girl was careful to avoid going in the streets so instead she takes the back way to her home stepping in through the back door. Letting out a sigh of relief when she finds a note telling her that Kaleb has left to go help their parents in the next town over. She slowly makes her way to one of the well furnished guest rooms setting Kathedral down. She starts to gently and carefully clean the young girl up. Reaching out to brush the young girl’s hair she allows herself to hum softly. Most of the pieces of cloth and water bowls she uses are dirty with a muddy brown and hints of purple and red. As Looking at Kate with her clean skin and tangle free hair sleeping peacefully looking calm. Niko decides it's her turn to clean up. She grabs one of the fluffy white towels from the bedside before silently leaving the guestroom allowing her protégé to rest. Nikoletta sheds her torn dirty clothes on her way to
Beauty Vs. BeastBEAUTY VS. BEASTNiko has heard that when a mentor’s Protégé is in trouble the necklace is to react and tell the tattoo to burn as a signal they need help. Without much thought said mentor rushes from her house into the throng of town people. Weaving expertly through the crowd it feels like an eternity before she spots Kate and the demon attacking her with long claws red beady eyes and peeling skin. Some of the men in the village are trying to kill the demon and failing miserably. Niko knows better than to fight the abomination in front of others. So despite her pride she lets out a blood curling feminine scream drawing the demons attention to her before running into thick woods outside the village. Nikos Heart sinks when she hears a whimper from behind her. Stopping and facing the demon realizing it still had its filthy hand around Kate’s neck. A hellish growl rips from Nikoletta’s throat. Her eyes seem to darken much like tare col
Necklaces And Tattoos NECKLACES AND TATTOOSThe hazel eyed girl leads the way in to her humble abode. The sight was quite unsettling for Kathedral. Nikoletta is never one to just give in or take something laying down but nevertheless she follows the older girl inside."now Kathedral-" Nikoletta begins"Kate. Not Kathedral" Kate interrupts"Okay Kate. I'm Niko. Anyway you are going to need this" Niko hands the younger girl a thin silver chain necklace with a small X with a line going horizontally through it. Niko watches Kate take the necklace examining it with the look of complete confusion and curiosity. Niko gently takes it back putting it around the young Burnett's neck."Keep it on always but never let anyone see it. In a few months or maybe a year you will get a tattoo of that symbol on your wrist that will indicate that you are full member of the sisterhood. The nec
Welcome To The Family WELCOME TO THE FAMILYThe sun has yet to shine its warming rays on the land of the small village. In one of the many houses still covered in the dark of the autumn night in a large well-kept room lays a young woman covered head to toe with a warm white quilt sleeping on her queen sized bed. Light blue curtains hang from the four banisters at each corner of her resting place. Soft snores drift in through the walls from the room next to hers where her older brother is resting. All is peaceful and tranquil until a load bang forces its way into the sleeping girls’ ears. Her bright hazel eyes slowly drift open. Lazily she sits up; unwrapping herself from her warm cozy cocoon. Dark black hair with shades of brown woven through falls in front of her face. The young woman gently removes the dark strands while gliding her feet to the floor. The
Roles We PlayIn life we are all assigned a character to play a script that we never auditioned for we just wanted to be ourselves is that society has told us that's what people encourage but they want you to conform so naturally the society gives us line from the script we're different we must play out the character in a story line that we don't always get to choose. When we finally get a chance to be ourselves we are not sure that the person next to us is fully them or their character because we ourselves have trouble distinguishing who we really are the person society and others want us to be. It's cruel things now that we are all actors in some way or another and we don't get paid for it. We have to go through and do it act say what's appropriate for what society has deemed is okay or us that day. So our friends people we love in people we are close to have their role to play as well and sometimes their role in our character are not written in the same script for long in that we are not always a
Oh SpringOh, spring,Oh, glorious spring,All the happiness you bring.Oh, tell the sun,Oh, the wonderful sun,To bring her warmth and come,To Shine down on the things that need to be done.Oh, whisper to the flowers,Oh, the beautiful flowers,Remind them to bloom,To show themselves soon.Oh, Yell to the waters,Oh, the magnificent waters,Urge them to flow,And never their currents slow.Oh, greet new life,Oh, innocent new life,Smile at them from all around,Let them listen you your calming sound.Oh, spring,Oh, glorious spring,All the happiness you bring.
Army Of One Only few seem to care Though they’re never there To see my broken body Strangers stare at me oddly They know me they say Let them leave as they may An actress in public A dying soul being robotic Pills don’t numb the pain Razor blades give my skin bloody stains The bullet let the ease came Another lost fight hires on the screen How life could be so mean So at least the end we are an army of one Not a lot got done Now to find put who won some believe death is a gift Others a curse Scared body; secret broken soul lefts
Porcelain DollI'm a porcelain doll not an angel.No not at all.All the mistakes I can't take back,Only makes another crack.I wish I could sit on the wall.For I'm only a porcelain doll.I don't want to break,From all the memories and love the demons take.
LessonsIn forty-seven minutes I will be twenty-one years old and my throat is tight with this notionthat every passing moment is a boat taking me further from the boy on the side of the road.I am terrified of the swelling tide of time, the ripples I will create,the creases that will be etched into my facewithout the laughter lines I know he would have left andone day someone will ask me how many siblings I have and I will hesitatebecause he will be so distant and I can feel it coming.I never intended to swim without him, butI am drowning under the weight of pocket-stone-people,the ones I love who he has never met and won't ever meetand its forty-four minutes until I turn twenty-one when I realize the relentlessness of this;how I will age away from him and I am disgusted with myself, with his ashes on the bookshelf,with this world that keeps making mistakes that can't be fixed.Twenty one years old and I am a semi-colon, a shuddering pause on the floor,remembering the time I broke
.my heartbecomesa madmantakingan axeto its ownbody
beautiful.i hate my stretchmarksthe vertical the horizontal the ones running miles down my armsstripes on a circus tentmy body is a freak show75 cents a ticketthey are the bars on a cagetrapping me inside this prison cell of flesh (not letting me run away from all i once was)reminding me that i am still that little girl who was told that she had toomuch weight in her stomachand in her thighs to be called beautifulmy stretchmarks are the debris from when i tried to collapse upon myselftried taking up less space because beautiful is small beautiful is skinnydiets upon dietsbecause i've been told thati am only worth the sharpness of my collarbone
why i never wrote you a poem.last summer i triedto use the words that you fell asleep toto write you a love song butevery time i triedmy fingers froze up.i failed the test of describing youin a paragraphin a sentencein a wordbecausethere is nothing in my head adequate enough(worthy enough)to describe how you lookon the train station platformwhen you smile at me.i can tell you thatmy heart climbs into my throat andmy body prickles with heat andeverything disappears, for just a moment, butthe thing i cannot describeis you.your mouth caresses my namelike it’s the most beautiful soundit’ll ever know,like it understands me perfectly,but you,you are not made of verses.you have no meter.you are not written in stanzasthat i understandand i find myself captivatedat how beautifully complexyour language is.you say i’m the mesmerizing one, but, baby,you've stumped me.you have left a girl,a writer,a person who wants to build their lifewith words,speechless.
girls that photosynthesizeI.i asked my mother to buy me sweetener,and she said "no," and she said "no,sugar is better for you it's more natural"so i shrug and i clamp my teeth over my tongue and sew my mouth closedand i steal sweet n' lowfrom the pizza placeII.my friends watch me pick at my lettuce,a rabbit-food-lunch that makes me sickto my stomach, and when i run to thebathroom during science class theyfollow me and ask what i ate for breakfast.i say "waffles" because they can't knowi won't let them stop meIII.my therapist asks me if i think i'm sickand i'm not, i'm strong, but i can't benot here not here, and the $$$$$$$$are ticking away as i consider my answerso i say "yes" and she asks me whati will become and i say "better"because that's all they want to hearIV.my dietitian sets up a rough meal planand she says i won't gain weight on itsomehow i trust this woman with arton the walls of her office and i pickthrough the day in corn-kernel bites,
Dear Homophobic ParentsDear homophobic parents,How the fuck do you think it makes me feelWhen you walk out of the room cryingBecause you can’t stand the thought of something I can’t control.I’ll tell you that it makes my insides burn.The living room feels like a closet.Suffocating, and yet I can breathe fine.I am choking on the air,Polluted by your homophobic slurs.You’re hypocrites.Making uneducated guesses about things you know nothing about.Someone ought to teach you to look shit upBefore you go about, shouting your false claims to the world.My very existence is an error.Some messed up chemical defect that went wrong,I don’t belongAnywhere.I am the Titanic,To you I am supposed to be perfectAnd unsinkable.I am supposed to be straight, and happy, and fine.But I am so very far from fine,When my lungs are filling up with water,Your words are an ice berg,And I am sinking fast.
Why I DanceI dance as if I am sick,And the movement is medication.As if getting up in the morning just to practice is the only motivationTo stay awake.Because well- worn soft shoesFeel like home.The world is cold, and lonely.But when I dance, there is a fire inside my heart, warm and lively.I feel like a bird,Like I am able to fly as high as I want.Gravity, I tauntAs I laugh in its face.Because the Earth was never a placeFor me.Because leaping across dance floors,Allows me to soarHigher than I could in my dreams.Hard shoe dances make me feel powerful.Like a raging storm at sea.My stamps, and clicks are crashing waves.But I am also the sea breeze.Strong and graceful.When I dance I feel like I am tradingSecrets with the universe.My head is clear,And my will power is strong.I am a force to be feared.On bad days,The rhythms of hard shoes sound like a heart- beat.A life line.And I’ll dance until my feet bleedJust to feel something.Because dancing is the only thing
A Letter to the Girl who Hates her BodyA letter to the girl who hates her body.A letter to that girlWho scrolls through tumblr.Admiring all of those models.With thigh gaps that look cute with skirts.And a waist that you can barely see.You're beautifulA letter to the girlWho looks at models,For their curves.The way their hips go outwardsAnd their size D cup breasts.You're beautiful.Please don't look in the mirror,And hate the girl you see.That girl is youAnd she should be loved unconditionally.Because you deserve love.And how much love is not determined on your waist size,Whether you're chubby or skinnyYou're still so very pretty.You're so perfect.So for every time you look in that mirror.And tell yourself you aren't worth it.That you're arms are too big,Your hips aren't big enough.Stop.Tell yourself.I am a woman.A lady.I am strong.I have a body like a castle.A kingdom made just for me.And I will not destroy that castle,By trying to starve myself.By taking brick by brick and dismantling it
WeightWeightThere is a weightYou asked me to hold.(Just for a while,Just for a while.)My tendons strain and snap,I lack your Atlas strength.The crushing force of gravityMakes me weak, makes me sore.Take it back, take it back,But you’ve gone away.I’m sinking down, I’m sinking down.The water rises to my throat.Pushing down, rising upDrowning and drowning and drowning.Take it back, please take it back,Where have you gone?I’m pinned beneath this weight,With water to my nose.My lungs fill up with salt,Choking and screaming and breathingOnly freezing thickness of water.Where is that mild friend oxygen?Where has he gone?My stinging eyes are blind here.I cannot to escape, unwillingTo shed this leaden snareWherein I dwell confined.By You.I grip it tightly.Surely I will die,Sweet air has left my bloodcompletely.I lay back and let black water take me,Frozen fingers loosen on Your weight.And all at onceit falls awaycompletely.I watch i
Now you are an angelNow you are an angel,For only angels come when you die.We close our eyes,Hearing your angels lullaby.Now you are an angel.