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you've set me up
[ desire ]
[ of dignity ]
[ to ]
[ boy ]
[ please ]
[ his ]
[ just a little ]
forgetin this circle
a web of shining threads
a world of lovely lies
. . . . f o r g e t . . . .
you should have
[ c o l d . . . c r u e l ]
it was never meant to be
starlit hungerwearing that
pain / heartache
break the world in two
my heart [ m y s o u l ] ensnared
Esicet Westwind DescriptionA half-elf by the look of him, this young man has slanted, almond-shaped eyes that are the exact color of a serene, blue-green hue, and somewhat large, very slightly pointed ears. He has ankle length hair, bleached, for the most part, golden by the sun. A few streaks of brown are dashed here and there, and the mass seems to shimmer like the sun, hanging down his back a neat braid. A few, almost spikey, locks escape to frame his face, which seems rather rugged and chiseled in appearance. Fine cheekbones alter the effect slightly, and he has a faint curve to his jawline that speeks of his elven blood, as well the subtle jut of his chin. Barely arched brows, a nose that seems a mix of aristocratic and aquiline -- perfectly straight but for a slight hawkishness -- and lips fuller than the average man's round out his comely yet somehow brooding features. His form is tanned, and golden like his hair, and very sleek. That is not to say he lacks muscle at all, he just seems to be lithe and ton
Sora Snowhunter DescriptionHe is a winged humanoid and is very tall, standing at least six and a half feet, his shoulders are broad, and is form is perfectly proportioned to his height. He isn't skinny, nor is he overly muscular; he has just the right build, appearing neither diminutive nor overbearing, and it is accentuated by the light tan to his smooth skin. Handsome would be an understatement about this young man, but what adds to his appearance is the fact that he does not flaunt it. With an almost straight, slightly aquiline nose and a pair of fuller than average lips, there is a slight, almost undetectable feminine touch to his features, carrying into the gently angular slope of his jaw and the strong, yet subtle, jut of his chin. It is not unwelcome, however, it only further enhances his strange, almost ethereal beauty. Glossy strands of midnight blue shimmer and fall down his back in three equal braids to just below his waist, appearing to have been woven with great care, and each is bound with an equal
Tortured ExistenceMy existence is little more than a grain of sand to you.
And I die a thousand times a day because of you.
In SanityI find myself in a world of white,
This place it feels so pure.
The Sun's rays are warm and bright
I've never felt so sure.
I explore the land and all its sights,
I enjoy the world's grand tour.
I wander around until the night
Shows what it has in store.
In the darkness, a speck of light
Reveals a hidden door.
I turn the handle and peer inside,
A sight I can't endure.
I turn to run, to escape my plight,
I dare not to explore.
But something inside catches my eye,
I can't resist the lure.
I awake to find myself tied tight,
A voice tries to assure,
"This one may finally fix you right,
Maybe this is the cure."
Beyond LoveYou say 'beautiful' like a mistake -
like it slipped out unwarranted
from those dark parts of your mind
that you don't want me to go to,
you say it like that.
You caress like it's worship -
like if you pressed too hard
or took too much, you'd pay the price
and I love those urgent times when
you're willing to pay it.
You teach me love like I'll die without it -
like if you don't defrost me
and my frozen image of myself,
then I might stop breathing
and extinguish beneath my own icy damnation.
You kiss me like you have to -
like we're sharing an oxygen tank
in a toxic, broken-down universe
and you are trying not to breathe
to save me.
You kiss me like that.
You love me, like that -
how am I supposed to resist
a man who loves me beyond his own sense
and senses - beyond love ?
BloodRunning away, again and again through the years
Moving from white square to black and back
Packing and unpacking things without meaning
Carrying them from here to there religiously
The doctor says there’s nothing wrong, but still
I’m up at three, drinking coffee, coughing up blood
Watching the same old ghosts watching me
I don’t have to pack them when I move, they follow
A cannibal who’s eaten everyone around him
I’ve turned on myself now, three toes already gone
Watching the lights of the modem blink yellow
No connection; another cough, another coffee alone
kafka has been dead foreveri.
I am going to cut the veins out of my neck:
pull the stars from the legiments
drown the cities in bruises
I am going to burn in hell:
tear down the pyramids, the faces, the continents
the weight of the universe
(if I live to be 20
I will know the landscape of my mind
as well as the bottom of the ocean
& people I've never met)
CarcinogensMy hands smell
like antiseptic solution
and cancer, because
the peroxide won’t
cleanse your cigarette
ashes from my nails,
and the cremation
jar is still smoking.
Pop Rocksbeads of roman sweat and dust
lace the wind like meth into pop rocks—
feel the fizzlepop of history flamenco
across your justahuman tongue
and wonder why your professor never
lectured on the strawberry tang
of crusaders' sloshed blood.
sunset soon forgottenin a single moment all her greatness collapsed,
her soulfulness small and full of absence.
i am wild
with infinite shades of yes -
and a careless smile
so kiss me quick
under the sun
(just until the pain leaves)
DunesOut on the dunes, you could be walking on the moon
Maybe you are, maybe we are; see that planet in the sky?
How much more can be said about body heat, about
Sucking the marrow from bones in a vain attempt to quench?
Disheveled by dust-storms in an ocean of sand, we walk
Blank-window eyes searching for what, some sort of life?
Our feet are heavy, the ground wants to eat them; no moon, this
Now the sky is the color of sand, and there are no stars to wish on
Sweat and dead weight, we wait for the coolness of night
Fatigued, delusional, we see a rusty car approach; we get in
words flowing from fingertips
so sharp they bleed
they bleed on me, over me
stinging beads of scarlet
staining porcelain skin
staining me the same
color as the sky
i am more grey than black
i am more black than blue
i am more blank than anything
i am less than i used to be
you are the beautiful disaster
unraveling me at my seams
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More