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Deviant for 7 Years
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Literature
Sensations
It was stunning.
I could see it, touch it, taste it, feel it, and if I had wanted to, surely I could have walked across it.  Stretched and relaxed with holes in some places, it was worn just to the right amount of comfort.  It held my hand and I smiled at the grip it had on me.  I had surely been looking for it forever without knowing it could even exist.
My heart reached out and took a piece of it for itself, refusing to forget.  I was glad; I certainly had no intention of leaving it behind.
I would have liked to capture it in a jar, but I knew its beauty could only prevail in its natural habitat.  Removing it would be a futile attempt of the preservation that was impossible.  It had to remain where it was, when it was, and how it was in order to be what it was.
People were between it and me, but looking past them was not a problem.  They may have been closer, yes, but that didn't disrupt my view.  It was
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Literature
Cable - Part 1
Cheese gripped his chin.
It dripped, a bridge to his bowl.
When he smiled, his freckles danced.
"Why do ya' think we got it this time?" A few words walked across the table.
There was silence, save for the clinking of spoons and a plethora of voices.  One boy dragged himself from his meal for a moment, barely taking time to breathe. "Well, Sharon musta got some money."  Again he ate.
"I don't see how she'd do that."  The cheese-chinned boy didn't take time to swallow, and noodles mixed with his words.
"As she always does it," the other boy grinned after pushing the food down his throat.  His face was made of that cocky ignorance of a teenager who thinks he's a superhero.  He squinted his green eyes with pleasure.  "Stealing."
Another spoonful crawled into the Cable's mouth.  "Mmm.  Sharon's never sharin'."  Across from him, he could hear Archer roll his eyes, and that was his cue.  Both o
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Literature
Grandpa
His shirt was soft.
I clung to it as I reached his side, puffing air and stopping just before my lungs burst.
The scent that accompanied his being, his sense of being there, was a familiar one; it was somewhere between lilacs and a hard day's work.
As always, his beard was long, white, and perfect.  It was just the right length to be rubbed against my cheek.
A smile perched on his lips, and it fell upon mine as well.
"Ruffie," he spoke.  That name belonged to me, but it also belonged to him.  It was ours, just like always.
I breathed him in, and I knew I would be able to forever.
Nothing would happen to him - he would always be mine.
I was comfortable on his lap, and even his breath was fragrant.  His voice was infallible.
It was warm, the sensation of an early summer on a spring day.  Just the right temperature for love.
This was how it was supposed to be.
This is how it had been.
This was my grandpa.
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Literature
Just Love
I'm afraid to see you.
Afraid of what might happen
When you stare into my face
With those eyes of yours,
Those beautiful, blue-green eyes of yours;
When you run your hand down my forearm,
Holding it there for a moment before letting it drop away;
When you say my name –
Oh, I dare not think it.
I'm already losing myself.
I'm already lost.
You'll be happy, but I'll be terrified.
Terrified of the things you'll do,
The things you'll say.
Anything could trigger it,
Anything could make it happen.
Once, twice,
And then I'll be torn,
Because I won't be torn at all.
Your laugh is the best sound,
And that's what makes it the worst.
But no, no – it's not worse than your eyes.
A softness surrounds them
A softness I dare not remember.
Such softness I dare not desire.
I can think no more, not another thought
Without wishing you were here.
And that is the worst thought of all.
For now, I will sit
And pretend not to daydream about the times
When all of these thoughts were good,
Not corrupt,
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Literature
In This World - Part 1
Frigid and scratched from various incidents, the hardwood, oak table was always on guard for something to fall upon its surface. Right it was to be so, for in an instant or two, five cards were slapped down, facing the three boys that were huddled around the piece of furniture. Both the nine and ten of hearts sat patiently beside some hidden dispute that seemed to be going on between a jack, queen, and king of the same suit. Above the three face cards, like a god looking down on the people he had graced, a young man smirked at his friends.
"Aw, Jack, you've got to be kidding me." One of them whined, laying down his own hand. Present there were only two kings, spades and clubs, who would have surely been arguing if given the chance. Along with them were a seven, eight, and nine of diamonds.
Beside him, another lad laid down the cards he had been possessing. "Yeah, man, why won't your streak ever die?" Four cards of the same suit, two, three, four, and five of hearts rested on the wood,
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Literature
In This World - Prologue
No twig cracked, nor did a bush ruffle its leaves in torment in the darkest hour of night. Blades of grass were plump this time of year, right at the beginning of the autumn season, when they had already soaked up the sun's smiles and the clouds' tears for months on end. Trees were also healthy, not readily breaking when having their arms pushed off to the side to allow one to pass. Mirroring the sun, shining in her own, less powerful beauty, Ms. Luna peeped out from around the edge of a cumulus puff.
Surprising and unlikely as it was, even in the darkness shadows formed. A minuscule measure of light was enough to make some places more tenebrous than others, if only slightly. Houses were shined down upon while omitting their own light as well; they never slept, even when their inhabitants made their decisions to rest. But even the most elite technology had its downfalls, for it was simply impossible for machines to be fully human in any sense. No matter what scientists and hopefuls pub
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Literature
Yes, I loved my brother.
Dead Poets Society Fan-fiction.
Todd Anderson's Point of View
Monstrous and intimidating was the beast that stood before me, one that I had been training to battle for all of my life.  Its walls were high and tall, casting shade across the students, teachers, families, and guests who had chosen this beautiful day late in spring to come into its presence, leaving me to be but a speck in the painting.  A year or two more at Balincrest would be necessary before this new school would even be a consideration of mine.  For it wasn't my day to attack the beast, or even to begin the fight; I was not yet prepared.  My brother would rule the day instead, which brought both relief for myself and joy for his wellbeing into my soul.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.  This, one of the many accomplishments of your son's, is a great one.  It should bring honor to your family's name."  A balding man who was completely made up
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Literature
I still hate that desk set.
Dead Poets Society Fan-fiction.
Todd Anderson's Point of View
"Todd, you will be attending Welton Academy this fall."
Although the voice was familiar, I wasn't used to it being directed at me very often.  On a regular basis, I was just asked how my schoolwork was going, or interrogated about something related to Balincrest, my school.  Talk about Welton Academy had always been in the future, held over my head so I would have to leap for it, whether I wanted to or not, as if the ground was on fire.  So, needless to say, the words of my father had startled me.
Instead of being an aspect I would be looking ahead to, it would soon be one of the present time.  And that, in itself, made me wish it was not so.  Composure had to be kept, however, for my father's eyes were still on me, and hesitation was looked down upon in our household.  After watching my brother succeed so 'easily', it was no mystery why he thought the way he did.
I
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Literature
Judgment
The eyes on the walls
Look at our flaws
Their judgment is nothing but bent
Built by our own force
And directions, of course
They became part of our defense
The eyes on the trees
Laughter at ease
Try to show what they think we are
But we are so safe
In our structure and haste
That we dare not look quite that far
The eyes in the streets
Critical pleas
Are clear in their disfashioned selves
Their words too are fake
At the peak of the wake
But more true than those on a shelf
The eyes on the mirror
Couldn't be clearer
But still we do skew them in ways
With despair and strife
Yet while so full of life
They'll haunt us for all of our days
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Literature
Captain
The waves rip and are torn
In the eye of the storm
Lights in the cabin all clatter
With a shake and a tip
Troubled is the whole ship
Captain doesn't know what he's after.
See, he'd set on this path
For his heart's hardened grasp
Would not allow this task to crumble
Now his map is long gone
But the barge does sail on
Despite the words his tongue did mumble
This started years ago
He's an actor, you know
His most simple tricks are not folly
Through this masquerade ball
He never did once fall
You see, he did not end the volley
Ah, on the contrary
There was a young lady
Whose feelings had once been requited
While silence was the beast
He had been at a feast
To another one he became knitted
Years had passed with this love
Through the currents, they shoved
Their powerful boat now a fortress
And yet still one morning
Fount a curious thing
Alone time would cause listlessness
What a miniature fate
In the ocean, so great
For the wonderful seaman to plunder
He was trapped and in fear
By doubting c
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Literature
That Boy
I feel him watching me.
His eyes tickle the skin on the nape of my neck
As his gaze paroozes my figure.
I stand here patiently
Trying not to let excitement break through my prickling skin,
Basking in the wonderful moment.
Courage – that's what I need
To show him I'm as noble as he, to prove my worth.
So I gather some from here and there,
From the pits of my stomach,
From the tips of my fingers, then
Ready myself to return his gaze…
But he's looking away.
He's not looking at another person
Or another place
He is simply staring into space – but it doesn't matter
Where he is casting his cares, because
They are not upon me.
Or perhaps he is not here at all;
A picture in a children's book from years ago,
Battered and tattered from excessive storytelling;
The painting on a billboard,
Torn by the wind until it's frayed and flaps
And is replaced by another.
Where has he gone? Where has he fled?
Or was he only a ghost in my head?
No – I know he was here.
I can still feel him
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Literature
Save Your Heart
Tiled floors
Closed, locked doors
Windowpanes
Pounding rain
Crowded walls
Empty halls
All to 'assist' us with our flaws.
Footsteps, slow
Get below
Blankets, sheets
Not too neat
Steady breaths
In the depths
So we can live wishing for death.
A parade
Smiles made
Not one true
Nothing new
Dripping sink
No black ink
Just in the hope to make us think.
Drugs, no cigs
Snuck in, big
Too concealed
Hardly real
Don't take part
Save your heart
Only chance in this place, so stark.
Cracked off paint
Mem'ries faint
Through the years
Held back tears
Building up
Empty cup
Shown by example to be corrupt.
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Literature
A Strange Man
A strange man arrived
In a small little town
Was greeted by looks
Many minuscule frowns
His tongue was foreign
And his accent was new
The small little town
Didn't know what to do
They did what they had
Grown accustomed to know
Thus arrogance, greed
Both, they started to show
Fear plagued eyes and ears
At the thought of a change
Alone yet content
How they wished to remain
So, blinded and deaf
In the small little town
The crowd in the streets
Found the man, gathered 'round
Though mocked and laughed at
Still, he didn't back down
Instead he smiled
At their now-normal frowns
But soon he was gone
Leaving people with peace
Who would all forget
'Bout the others they meet
A small little town
He had traveled from far
It would not recall
Meeting this movie star
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Literature
Walls
On the edge of my life
(Trying to comprehend)
And I'm trapped in my mind
('Cause you can't understand)
But you think I'm alright
(You don't know me at all)
For this war is just beginning
I'm staring at these walls
(I swear they're staring back)
Walking through empty halls
(That forebode the attack)
I call out for your touch
(I have no idea why)
When the darkness is light
(And blind eyes start to see)
I will cheer for the fight
(Of the man I could be)
Still, I'll know I am lost
(No way back from the end)
Because dreams, they don't come true
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:iconflyingcolorblind:FlyingColorblind 0 0
Literature
Butterflies and Rainbows
They were young
But, oh, how those two were in love
And they knew it could only be
A gift from above
So they treasured each other
And cherished each moment
The girl knew that one day
She would bear his last name
Because they showed one another
They could never be the same
Without each other
So they would never be alone
Butterflies and rainbows
That's as far as their story goes
It was happily ever after
So why couldn't it just stay that way?
They were driving one night
Didn't do nothing wrong
She was right there beside him
Just singing their song
He loved it
He loved life
And he loved her
But that car
It just seemed to have come from nowhere
That drunk driver
It was as if he didn't have a care
In the world
It was done in a blur
As the airbag caught him
And the angels caught her!
So where are the…
Butterflies and rainbows
That's as far as their story goes
It was happily ever after
So why couldn't it just stay that way?
At the funeral home
She was only eighteen
Now he's cold and alon
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Literature
This Pain
This pain's not strange
It's caused by love
Assuming most aches are
And thoughts arrange
Like scared, white doves
You're both distant and far
You say you're there
Your words are true
Can't you be here instead?
My heart feels bare
Not fresh, anew
With you just in my head.
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:iconflyingcolorblind:FlyingColorblind 0 0

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FlyingColorblind
Ruth Marie
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:iconneko-niki:
neko-niki Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2017
Thanks for the watch :D
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:iconentheofuschia:
Entheofuschia Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2013
[link]

TAG.
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:iconentheofuschia:
Entheofuschia Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2012
Give ♥ This♥ To ♥ The ♥ Twelve ♥ Nicest ♥ People ♥ You ♥ Know ♥ If ♥ You ♥ Get ♥ Five ♥ Back ♥ You ♥ Must ♥ Be ♥ Perfect ♥.
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:iconentheofuschia:
Entheofuschia Featured By Owner Apr 17, 2012
Tag. [link]
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:iconhammeh-chan:
Hammeh-Chan Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
o rite sorry the links to my gaia :O
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:iconhammeh-chan:
Hammeh-Chan Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
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:iconhammeh-chan:
Hammeh-Chan Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
My hands is the best meal of the day:)
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:iconflyingcolorblind:
FlyingColorblind Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2011
Hot pockets! (Omnomnom) :iconeatplz:
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:iconhammeh-chan:
Hammeh-Chan Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
:iconawkwardbonerplz: yes.
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