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They tried to colour me crazy.
Filling my head with As and Bs
but only As because a B is for low life
dirt pushing fuckers with no dreams.

They told me to read.
read books of a history, not mine,
and plays of troubled souls
speaking in tongues and soliloquies
that I dont understand but I nod and agree
as they crank their hands and the climax is saturated
in self satisfaction when their hands plunge deep.

Not for me. But for they.
Degree wielding warriors ready to educate
on who to be but remember no Bs if you want to be
somebody recognised by me and she, he, them, they,
won't stop till they colour me crazy. 

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Summary: "Hours of work were now resting in a black plastic bag. How many more would join them? She had no time to dwell on such questions, though. Wax was scraped from the tablecloth with a fancy butter knife that wasn't serving its intended purpose. Like so many other things that were permanently damaged, the tablecloth was folded and put away. Would he already be asleep?"

Word Count: 1,875

Rating: PG-13

Any feedback would be appreciated.

BygonesCollapse )

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Title: Dishonest
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Prompt #350 - Sarcasm
Warnings: Death
Rating: R
Summary: "You're never honest." She shot him a steel glare and slapped his hand away with a flick of her wrist. "That's what I hate about you."

He was leaning against a wall in his suit, watching as another man caressed her shoulder flirtatiously, playing with a lock of her long, dark hair.
* * *
Title: Deal
Author: isnthappiness
Fandom: Original
Warnings: Death
Rating: PG-13
Summary: To fill up emptiness with another empty person. Even that was a mistake from the start, wasn't it? [Oneshot]

I sit at the cliff where we first met. You are not here today.
* * *
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"Play-dough!" I say, as I hand you my heart.
Soft and spongy for you to mold.
You pushed and squeezed till it was cracked and dry;
till it was dirty, diseased and cold.

Not just my trust. My hope. My virginity.
Please take them, piss on them if you will.
But I beg. I beg of you, give it back.
Give me back my poetry. 

* * *
"You're so fickle.
Why should it matter?"
I ask for the umpteenth time.

"I don't know what you mean.
What are you implying?"
Her gaze doesn't falter like mine.

"What is there to imply
when I've told you plainly?"
I will not lose this fight.

"There is something.
There always is, isn't there?"
Our words were released at night.

"I see, here it comes.
What is? What is always there?"
I feel a quiver in my lip.

"Don't act so naive,
do you think I'm that stupid?"
Our emotions are losing grip.

"I really don't know,
can't you for once just tell me?"
There was no backing down now.

"How dare you...
how dare you?"
We're falling endlessly down.

"How dare I?
Because you expect everything of me,
because you give nothing back
while I hope for something to change
when nothing ever will.

"How dare I?
Because I care."
Current Mood:
tired tired
* * *
What shade hangs in front of your eyes
A real man doesn't do as he does
He is the path to your demise

His actions should speak louder than words
but your skin is deaf
What shade hangs in front of your eyes

How can you give your love to such a beast
Whose character floats like cement
He is the path to your demise

If only the whole knew the whole
he is the one against which your parents warn
What shade hangs in front of your eyes

How can he kindle the fire
Which was once mine to light
He is the path to your demise

How can you fall again for his guise
While I wait with open arms
What shade hangs in front of your eyes
He is the path to your demise.

Current Mood:
unfulfilled
* * *
The air, damp
carried on the nipping breeze,
bringing the scent
the scent remembered.
Of renewal
The year will pass again
before white drowns the Earth
and sleep settles on the mind
Leaving me yearning
for the passage of time.
Current Mood:
nostalgic nostalgic
* * *
A prayer for relief; burying my face in my hands.
No use. The pressure is there, just behind my eyes
and I feel the swell that I cannot stem, it's all mine.

Release is not an option and I resist emotion's plans.
No use. I am overwhelmed and I reveal all my shame,
my fear and lonely self-pity. It's all mine.

I refute the evidence before me, disbelieve the truth.
No use. Denial is awash with rage but cannot fight
and is quelled through overbearing might. I call it mine.

I mutter and mumble my pleas to stop. No use,
no use at all. It stays with me, an unwanted guest
in the vacant residence of my heart, that which is mine.

Current Mood:
apathetic apathetic
Current Music:
Opposite - Biffy Clyro
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