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Now.Look at me dead in the eye.
What would you see?
Don't hold me accountable for someone I use to be.
You broke me, but I was already on the ground.
Every stitch in my mind and heart, for every blow you made.
But look at me now.
I stood up
I became strong
I got on my feet and hands and crawled back to who I was.
I would never let my wounds convert me into something I am not.
So if you're looking for another play doll to spit at,
I can't be that role anymore.
I went through beyond hell and never gave up to be where I am, who I am, and what I have today.
I'll leave behind my footsteps of the past,
As I am walking towards the future.
And you can get lost in them,
For all I care.
Our Hearts Tied.Close your eyes
Take my hand
And enter a magical wonderland.
Time is fast, life is tough
Like bitter water waves as thick and rough.
People are cruel, demons are shrewd
All you see are cynical feuds.
But let's close our eyes, clasp hands and pray
To love and live for another day.
Like a flower in a meadow, like a shell on sand
Our hearts tied, brings beauty to this land.
With your tears and sighs, you ask me why..
Well I love you for a reason, didn't I?
Cruxifiction of The AngelHer heart washed pure of sins. Walked the lonely paths of purgatory. Felt neglected as if no one bothered to give her a smile. She came across a demon. He gave his love to her and took her in. Not knowing it was a trap she gave him her heart and came to life. Condemned for what she believed in. Sentenced to be charred for her merciful actions, her spirit now belongs to the cross. A soul who loved everyone and now she hears the death toll ring. Bewitched by the devil and possesed by evil, overwhelmed her. Forced against her will to do not what she have wished. "Forgive me Lord" was her final words as her body was nailed to the cross as a victory for Satan.
Perfectly Imperfect.They have imperfections. Flaws too easily seen. Bruises run up their arms. Cuts stream down their faces. Their hearts are pure as artic water and blossom like gorgeous newborn flowers. They never thought love was possible and believed that only good things happen to perfect people. But perfect people never cry, never drink, never hurt, and never exist. And if you see with your heart, and listen with your eyes, you can see a lot more beauty than ever imagined before. How would've you ever found out they had hearts if you never had one yourself?
EntwineI sit at the edge of a cliff. My feet dangle off.
I'll close my eyes, listen to my soul breathe
And my heart pump
And drift away with the wind.
I'll feel the clouds devour my being
And listen to the air swirl in my lungs and errupts out of my throat.
I'll be safe, as long as the wind carries me and the sky watches over me
As long as the moon lights my way and the stars do not lie.
I'll land in a vast ocean of dreams
And of my wishes.
I'd wish for love, for family, for something with beauty within.
And if I open my eyes now,
What will I see?
HumanA dried up leaf.
Me: Someone that couldn't hang onto life anymore.
Me: Someone who found their place in this world.
A rotting bud on a tree
Me: Someone is letting go and it's time.
A little girl catching a flying rose petal.
Me: Someone who found their heart.
A little boy holding hands with another boy.
Me: Something beautiful and magical that can never be judged.
A bird leaving its nest.
Me: Someone brave enough to find their path.
A runaway child.
Me: A bond was torn.
Me: A human.
WingsI saw someone who wasn't confident enough. Who couldn't stand up for what they believed in. You couldn't stand on your two feet, and when you did you fell. It was cute to watch, but I always tried to stand you upright. You were always bashful and couldn't fly. But I became your wings and was determined to give you a boost. I held you close, for the time we had together was limited. When it was time, you became your own wings, bid a farewell to your home, and took off. The wind became your heart, your soul spreaded away amongst the clouds.
It took a while for you to learn to run and be free, and when you did, you were long gone.
So fly away my dear and never come back. I miss you very much, but there comes a time when you have to sacrifice and let go. And if you don't come around, you were never mine to begin with.
A Pretty Little ThingShe puts herself above others. Twists the hearts of those around. Corrupts the mind and brings it to total, bottomless darkness. And creates chaos so skillfully, it's as if every drop of blood is a work of art. She kills without mercy and dances the night away with a knife in her hand. She weaves impurity into the veins of the poor and reap the souls of children.
She never realized her actions, until one day the town folks prepare for a burn at stake.
Some say she practices witchcraft, some say she was born evil. Some say she was the daughter of Satan.
I watch as her body diminishes into ashes and her spirit burns away with the flames. It leaves behind a crimson aura, so tranquil and enchanting.
Oh my. What a shame. I thought she was a pretty little thing.
The Boy and The BlindfoldI'm sitting on the sidewalk of the street with a friend.
We both saw a child crossing the street.
A car was coming fast, honking its horn at the boy.
He only stood there
And shut his eyes.
I ran out to the streets, pushed the boy out of the way, and grabbed his shoulders.
I shook him and yelled, "WHAT ARE YOU, MAD?! COULD YOU NOT SEE NOR HEAR THE CAR COMING?!"
"I can hear the car coming. But not see."
I stared in his eyes, bewildered. But realized,
This boy was blind.
"BUT YOU DIDN'T RUN WHEN YOU HEARD THE CAR?"
"You don't understand life, don't you?" He shook off my grip and walked away. I was confused yet furious.
I have just saved his life yet he says I don't understand it. I come over to my friend. "Did you see that? I JUST SAVED HIS LIFE AND THAT'S ALL HE SAYS TO ME!"
"Maybe he did it for a purpose. There's a purpose behind every action."
"Pft. I don't see a purpose for standing in the street and waiting to be torn by a car."
"Hey, can you turn around for me please?"
She's a WriterShe sits at her desk
Her headphones in,
The world shut out.
She bleeds for others
As words fly from
Her mind to her fingertips.
She stares at the screen,
At every little comment,
The good and the painful.
She forms her emotions
Into books and poems
To throw away the hurt.
She's a writer,
And her best weapons
Are her mind and her pen.
BetrayedI won't swallow your lies anymore
I can't stand your presence
You used to be my friend
But you're nothing to me now
And soon you'll be
Another bad memory
I won't be able to forget
Do you know what it feels like...To be lonely?
To be bullied?
To be called ugly?
To be unattractive?
To be compared to other women?
To be considered unnormal?
To be unloved even though you give love to others?
To face issues that you don't in reality know how to fix?
To think that your goal you're reaching for, is unattainable?
To feel like the cause of many people's problems?
To be held up on a high pedistal that you can't get down off of?
To realize that people don't like you based on your personailty?
To at no avail, keep up your happy and upbeatness for others?
To look at happy couples and wish that you had someone to be happy with?
To stop fighting for anything anymore?
You AgainOh, it's you again. I must admit,
The crooning has
The lies have been
And mine are like swords
It's just you and me
In this sick game
I can tell
You're pulling me in,
And I don't have
To pull you down
Sometimes, I've had
And all I see is
Then it became
I don't know
How to escape
Dark to see.
And all I can
Wonder at every
Turn I make
When can it be
flower petalsi know that when we touch
that my energy is yours
that we are like flowers
because at our roots
we need water and love,
we reach tall as we can
to get to the sun
and stretch our leaves
to welcome it all;
and when we touch
i know that our skin isn’t skin
too soft for this world
when it grows rough with gravel
so i invite you back to our bed,
soft with the earth
where we can lie gently
and sleep until it is time
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”
Why do this love this web comic, you ask?
Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,
or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.
It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)
or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)
Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)
but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)
We really do love Sollux’s lisp,
and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)
Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,
it's also Rose's amazing magic.
How about when Dave starts rapping
and Jade Harley begins napping?
We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,
and how John is such an adorable guy.
Or maybe it’s with all the sprites
or how prospit glows bright.
Can’t forget about Derse’s darkness
or Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)
There’s also this thing with Tav and stairs
which he t
An artist (revised)
Staring blankly at a white sheet of paper
Can truly be an artist’s worst nightmare
An artist’s duty as its shaper
Their thoughts up in the clouds somewhere
Looking for bits of inspiration
Their eyes searching the skies
Nothing can break their concentration
Nothing can blow out the passion in their eyes
Being an artist does not always mean you are skilled
You do not need to be Picasso or Bach
It means you want to see your dream fulfilled
And that you will never give in to an art block
SightStars in the night sky
I see beyond that and through
Greatness into darkness, I can fly
Here above the earth I can see the truth
There is an angel that will love me until I die
I Don't Come with the Edgesi.
It cries the way dragonflies leave ripples
in the rain. On days I swallow
whirlpools for breakfast and
drown with libraries for fun,
I can almost allow myself to forget
And it doesn’t want to make
me kneel on my shoulders
or pluck the weeds
from my scars;
I can see it try so hard
to be my friend.
But if I could choose
polka dots over tail lights
and sun screen over
I wouldn’t think thrice
or even once
not to blow the candles
on my grave.
That’s why I keep
the colons of analog clocks
under my tongue;
so I could keep the
figures eight of cliché’s
as keepsakes for old age.
I like to think infinities
have loopholes; tree rings
that dissolve into each other
with exhales for a caress.
And just when the tones
of lyrics would enter the
eutony of names, only then
would I drift into love.
When I wouldn’t be holding
my blood in my temples-
when all I am is a thought.
The running footsteps
we’ve come to cla
You Are Me, But I Use to be YouYou take away lives
You pillage homes
You destroy beauty
For it is a ritual.
For it is a traditional game.
You come home
Beaten and tattered
Shirt bloodstained and dignity shattered.
You look in the mirror, your past asks you,
"What do you see?"
"I don't know anymore."
Your past stares intensely in your eyes in the mirror.
"It never had to be this way. You had someone who loved you dearly. You had people who adored you. You had a family who cared for you."
You look up in the mirror with rage.
"What do you know about care? What do you know about love? Everyone fears me. Even You fear me..."
"I never feared you. I was sad because you pushed me away. I died and never came back."
You bunch your hand into a fist and smash the mirror and watches as it shatters to a million pieces and the splinters jab into your flesh.
You collapse to the ground.
"You are me. But I use to be you."
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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