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My Woodcutter and IThe other night, my younger sister, my mom, and I somehow got on the topic of princes. They decided I need a prince to come sweep me off my feet. I have since decided I do not need nor do I want a prince. A prince would be too formal, too flashy, too ornate, and too busy; not nearly as comfortable as I would like to be. I want a woodcutter (Do not say lumberjack because a lumberjack and a woodcutter are two completely different things in my head. My fella doesn’t wear plaid and overalls, thanks very much.) I want someone quiet-like but goofy, slightly awkward like me, someone I can snuggle with and not have to worry about looking good enough or having others watch us. I want someone simple. Not simpleminded, but simple. I want a little wood house deep in the forest where me and my woodcutter can live. He can chop wood during the day and I’ll keep a garden and clean the house, go draw water from the creek that will naturally be by our house (because wells just haven’t
The Pen CapThere is a pen cap stuck in one of the holes in a pew on the fourth aisle up in our Chapel at Church. We put it there. Or at least one of us did. I don’t know how or when it got there, but ever since it got stuck there, it has marked my family’s pew at Church. We have sat in that same row every Sunday for at least 10 years, except those days in which we are too late to get our usual seat or are on vacation. However, a little while back, maybe two weeks, maybe two months, who knows, we found the pen cap missing. We were immediately disappointed, as it seemed to match our family: loyal, faithful, but slightly askew, quirky, idiosyncratic, you know, just kind of…weird. Fun. A little bit irreverent but still respectful. The fact that that little signature of ours was suddenly gone distressed me for more reasons then one: It marked change. It meant moving on, and growing up. I am 21 and therefore, I am almost finished with my Bachelor’s Degree. My two older siblings
Pretend it's MorningThis morning I had to wake up at 5:45 in the morning to get ready for work. All types of feelings were aroused in me by this: anger, irritation, exhaustion, hatred for my boss, etc. Until I realized something: It was quiet. In a house with 7 people, there are rare moments when all of us are home but the house is quiet. I reveled in the silence. The house was so peaceful there, with the moon peeking in through the window, as if to check in on me before leaving for its hiding place behind the sun. The stairs creaked unnaturally loud, groaning in exhaustion, as I crept up and down while getting ready. I love those edges of the day, right before its deathly night, when everyone is just entering Dreamland and those precious moments before the sun awakens, when Dreamland is starting to drift away, and it creeps out of your head leading you to consciousness. I loved creeping around the house at that hour, quietly making my breakfast and saying hello to the sunrise while everyone else was just
There is a houseThere is a house, where stairs creak, and windows squeak. The house lies forgotten, dust embedded in every corner, age written upon every stair railing and piece of rotting wood. There is a house that lies in a place beyond sight. The only way there is through those that know the house already, and those people never speak of it. Only in hushed, reverent tones, in the silence of the night can the house be spoken of. The house is a memory, which cannot be reminisced without the bitterest and sweetest sorrow. There is a house that no one speaks of, for fear of the house disappearing from memory forever. The house is a dream, an elusive picture that fades as one tries to catch it. People may stop and rest, but they may never stay. There is a house, a house that bring peace, rest, and joy. There is a house that is so familiar people ache with the memory of it, for the house is home. And home is within the heart. There is a house that is a heart, a heart of a person that has forgotten, who
There is a meadowThere is a meadow, where the wind dances through the trees, and the sound of leaves rustling echoes back through the wind. The leaves chase the wind, exulting in the wind’s excitement. There is a meadow, where the sun shines and stretches itself as far as it can reach. The sun relaxes, enjoying its safe haven and sharing its glory with all that it touches. Warmth emanates from the sun’s rays, brightening the meadow. There is a meadow that has a river. The river has rocks, colorful rocks, plain rocks, rocks that have seen dinosaurs, have been stepped on by every kind of animal, have been tossed by playful children, and have used as stepping stones. The water rushes over the rocks, cleansing them in its hurry to get somewhere only the water knows. There is a meadow where flowers grow and birds sing. Dandelions flutter in the breeze, and birds soar through the sky, plucking at bushes and singing of the joys of the peace of the meadow. There is a meadow where the gate is a brea
In case I ever forgetIn case I ever forget myself:
In case I ever forget myself, and lose who I am in the chaos around me; in case one day I wake up and forget that I was once alive; in case one day I drown from the noise in my head; in case one day someone tells me who I should be and I believe them; In case one day I think I'm not good enough and start to believe it:
I like rain walks. I like to feel the water on my skin and the smell in the air and the raindrops clouding up my eyes. I like that I feel alive and close to the earth as I hear the skies rumble and the nonsensical rhythm as the rain falls, not caring where or how it lands.
I love the beach. I love that I never feel too big for the ocean, and that I always feel slightly threatened yet safe standing in the tide. I like the feeling that this world is bigger than we could ever understand.
I love music that makes me cry. That pulls at my heartstrings and refuses to let go because it's what I feel inside. I like when I don't understand how I feel
I am twilightI am the sunrise and the sunset.
I don't shine like the sun or radiate like the moon.
I just hang in the heavy air of twilight.
Beautiful ThingsThe end is coming and we both know it.
The exuberance we show is nothing but a mask. A facade to hide the truth we both know: This was never meant to last. It is foolishness to pretend otherwise but the sunset is to beautiful to give up, so we cling to its rays with a desperation that makes the angels cry. This is the most beautiful thing we've known, and beautiful things never seem to stay.
My RemedyMy wings are broken, bleeding.
I have entered an empty space.
My soul, hurting, lonely, needing,
is seeking its own rightful place.
Is my sad life just a tragedy?
Is there one who could heal me?
Can you be my gentle remedy?
Kiss me, hold me; can you feel me?
somewhereAdmidst the darkness
I see the blinking lights of
A distant city
and Leo's claw marks are carved
into flesh of sky.
For every soul a
star. I see your reflection,
faces in the moon
On a peaceful night,
when there are no clouds, they
guide my feet back home.
Are You Happy Now?Are you happy now?
That she’s dead on the ground
Never again will she be able to
Ever make another sound
Are you happy now?
That the words that you say
Have made another girl feel helpless
And her life has crumbled away
Are you happy now?
That you’ve made another feel pain
Just because you’ve been dealt wrong
Doesn’t mean another should have to endure the rain
Are you happy now?
That your damage has been done
Another victim has fallen down
Do you feel like you have won?
Are you happy now?
BetrayalI have the memory
I have forgotten
My kisses are fresh
And they're so rotten
My eyes shoot daggers
But stare so sweetly
Our life is a mess
That is arranged so neatly
It hurts me so bad
And yet I feel nothing
You were always so suspicious
You were easily so trusting
You've killed me completely
And filled me with life
I deserve to be an ex
But also your wife
I have given up
I continue to try
You should've told the truth
But you should've lied.
DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGHWhen Rosa died she was just thirty one;
She was my best friend in the world.
Cancer disabled her, and her husband left her,
She had two little girls and a mortgage to pay.
I offered to help her, but she was too proud,
And her sickness was shortening her beautiful life.
Her husband refused to take the children,
Like a memory, he faded away;
More than her own impending death,
She worried about her two babies.
With no other family to take them,
They were heading for Foster Care.
I begged Rosa to let me care for them,
I looked her in the eyes and promised her;
Her children would never want for nothing,
I would bring them up like she would want.
I swore to her that I would love them and nurture them.
The adoption took place three days before her death,
And I was there with her when she died.
Waiting back at home were my two girls,
My precious diamonds in the rough…
Why doth ye abandoneth me, O my love?
Have thy heart forgotten thine untamed dove?
Am I damned? Am I ugly?
What is it that makes thee, forsake me?
I live the way thee desireth.
I abide silence and pride forsaketh!
Why ye then blind towards my pain?
Why ye maketh my plea go vain?
Why thou maketh my life so dismal?
The wrath of thy apathy maketh my living abysmal!
Without thee life equals death!
Earnestly for thy mercy I prayeth!
I seeketh peace in thy happiness,
in thy grief I abideth thine loneliness.
Then why dost I fail to please thee?
Why ye not fill my heart with thine abounding mercy?
Reveal unto me my flaw my dear,
an unfathomable grave seems to draw me near!
All frail… all broken… my ordeal finds no end…
Without thy grace my heart can never mend!
To thy sweetest word I yearn.
In the moonlit night forlorn I burn.
Why unto me ye so stern?
Why is thine love so stubborn?
I fail to perceive thy rejection!
Thine unconcern brings unto me a venomous
DFC 3: The PlagueYou are the plague,
That soothes every wound,
So raw and off-key,
Sweet and fine-tuned,
Nobody knows you,
I see your soul,
The timid young rabbit,
The lion so bold,
Nary a whisper,
Carries my scream!
As heavens lie silent,
Hailing; they teem,
Forget all you’ve seen,
But remember me most,
A vibrant bright entity,
A pale shattered ghost,
Joyfully dancing we,
Stare at the sound,
Lost in the darkness,
In light all around,
Where people breathe fire,
I’m encased in ice,
Each moment disgusts me,
I’m fully enticed.
No words are muttered,
They’re chanting our song,
Pulses have quickened,
Dead all along.
You are my plague,
You soothe every wound,
Free and in love,
In hatred entombed.
Remembering YouI remember your smile when you looked my way.
It gave me confidence every day.
I remember your laugh when it was free from care.
It rang out full and filled the air.
I remember your hands as they stroked my hair,
As you chased away my every fear.
I remember your face when I sleep at night,
And I ponder how to make your burdens light.
I remember your love wherever I go,
And I hope you know I love you so.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More