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Happy birthdayJust as every year, the minutes
leading to midnight were pregnant
with disappointed expectations.
Expectations that carried within them
the knowledge that nothing was going to happen.
I knew those words were coming, but
they felt empty -
just like a lame "take care".
Her intention probably wasn't empty,
but words are like that sometimes.
My "Thank you" was worse,
like a vacuum sucking in the following words,
whatever genuine thing it could've been.
DawnYou sit forlorn, mist lining your faces
Your deplorable, despicable faces -
dull promise running through them
like an unobtrusive strand of hair.
The moon melts into an angelic face,
the stars come together to mend your heart.
Bolted to your seats, tired and dazed,
the perfect sunrise.
But who will mourn your loss?
How will you relinquish your pain?
There are no authors left to
write of such fatuity anymore,
for they're all drudging to pawn off their own pain,
weeping like children, carving into tree barks,
vomiting outside cheap bars, drunk,
penning away in the hope of respite.
So go home, and change that lightbulb.
There is no real dawn.
A poet's crimeI've committed a single crime, far too many times. I hid it in my pockets till it burnt my fingers. I held it inside me, like a mother protecting her child from evil. I nursed it within me till it grew, moulded it into its best form, carved it into my veins.
One morning when I woke, my head remained drenched in a darkness saturated with cries. To have held on to a poem until it finally died, escaping my veins, my pockets, my memory. That is a crime. And I have a history of crime hiding behind my ears.
PenpalYou always write, from
a country that's too far away.
You tell me of your sins,
your relationship with your brother,
your best traits in bed.
You send me coins; I picture you
a different face on each of them.
I hold one to my chest, smell it.
May be you smell like coins. Or
freshly laundered sheets.
You send me mix tapes; I listen in the bath.
I can't read or watch insects surround street lamps,
without you tip-toeing through my head.
Do you dream of unspeakable things?
Does the sound of velcrow somehow comfort you?
Do you also watch railway tracks
converge and diverge, struck by its beauty?
These are things I want to know.
With your every letter,
my fingertips beg to find your face.
Another one, another timeThe stereo is vomiting our every song one by one.
But there is a silence, thick as custard
that tells a story of
two lovers and twenty thousand loves.
You are here with me, listening too.
Climbing on to my collar bone,
licking my earlobe and teasing my every sense,
before you settle, lodged between my ribs.
I think always, of how it would be
if we stayed close enough to touch
but not kiss,
to discover what we loved and hated
before we separated.
I wished that in the whiteness of your room,
I found a space next to you,
just by your side -
to see the world
the way you saw it.
Staring at the ceiling didn't
feel the same without you.
Still, I have no regrets.
I am more fragrant now that
I recognise myself as an entity separate from you.
I reek of my own mistakes,
and bloom alone on dew-kissed magenta mornings.
But one day, we will bloom together once again,
shaming sunflowers and shutting up glottis.
You are yours and I am mine.
One day, very soon,
I will have words to put out here,
Black and whiteMy hands are pressing piano keys,
black, white, white, black, white.
You are there, sitting at a distance.
Staring into the Earth, tall grass and shadows and all,
dirt waiting to get into your nails.
The sun here is always either rising or setting.
This is today and that, tomorrow.
We have no in betweens.
At the balconyCups of tea brimming with
fuse with smoke-rings that
leak from our mouths.
I watch them, as they escape into the
yellowness of artificially lit skies.
MuteI made love to you one night
and came back feeling as beaten
as the bus I sat in.
I held on to the frayed seat,
the weight of remorse
bearing down on me.
Staring out the window,
I felt my fingers numb.
Hidden away like a dreadful sin,
I still wait for you.
Come, suck the sweetness out of me.
Drink me, be sated.
Today, you celebrate your anniversary;
and my weakness.
CityCity of dreams
city of profligacy.
Tall buildings loom over me like
hungry vultures over a corpse
Salty waters surge at my feet,
trying to sway me, shake me, and lose my grip.
There is no poetry here.
Words that creep out of road-side flowers
and man-made fountains
shrivel up like raisins under the sun.
Rhyme that drifts in ethereal melodies
falls flat to the ground like
birds shot dead.
People walk about like
weary robots in spurious contentment.
Sweat and grease traded with
There is no poetry here.
The days stretch on like
an ocean of waste,
too vain to be salvaged.
City of dreams,
City of make-believe,
I wish I could leave.
"Mother, please don't make me go, I have nothing to wear and besides I'll be bored out of my skull," I said as I rummaged through my closet in a last ditch effort to try and find something ‘nice’, just in case she insisted that I go to this confounded party. It was just going to be adults, sitting around getting tipsy, and talking about nothing that interested me, sigh! I heard my mother's stern voice from a distance somewhere from within the house "Get ready and I don't want to hear another word about it!" she screamed back.
An hour later, we drove in silence to a friend of my mothers home, that she had known since childhood, who was giving a dinner party reunion at a rented hall down a long driveway and across the road from where she lived. We were greeted then lead into her formal sitting room, where the fireplace was lit and her old 'pug' dog was stretched out in a fitful sleep, snorting and writhing about, like it was chasing some feral cat.
charmcaster and the stonecharmcaster was looking for a way to get revenge on gwen she was searching mystical stone that is said to have magical propertys she found a stump surrounded by pine trees and one that stump was a stone that glowed purple "this must be it!" charmcaster said she picked it up and she fell right on her butt "why did I do that I felt like I forgot how to stand or something" she thought out loud she felt a soft tushy feeling between her legs and butt she looked down and she saw she was wearing a diaper "how did that get there I got to take this off!" charmcaster said she tried to stand up to take the diaper of but just lost balance and fell on her bottom again she had an almost irresistible urge to cry about it but she got over it "what the heck is happening to me!" charmcaster said the diaper was getting poofyer then *blart* "did I seriously just crap my pants?!?" charmcaster was becoming alarmed but slowly she was beginning to like the felt of the soft diaper around her butt it was
Muted Experiments Ch. 3 [SCP-049 x Mute! Reader] You awake from yet another dream, or night terror. Glancing at the clock, you see that it's six in the morning, two hours before you had to go to work. What you woke up from was nothing but smothering blackness, and the sound of someone screaming,only to realize that the person screaming was you. It made you shiver just thinking about it.
People found it amazing that you could speak in your dreams; doctors said that it was psychological, stating that you could speak, but didn't want to. You close your eyes again, slipping into another dream.
"Where is she?"
"Just wait, she'll be here."
"I'm here now. Sorry to hold you up. Shall we begin?"
"Do we have everything?"
Walking into the containment cell, you look around, seeing SCP - 049 in the corner. Instinctively you reach for your notepad. Finding none, you speak.
SUPER COLLAB BOOK THING! (Asking for participants)Fellow PMDU members, I have an idea. How about all of us work together, and create a story for our characters in PMDU to read and enjoy? A massive collaborative project with no limit to the imagination~
Details can be found behind this link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15DtNWv7Gexh01fU7-XiU_TVxgTas8-r7AUxGZQvRGiI/edit?usp=sharing
Back to SchoolBack to school,
Back to Hell.
Return to education,
Return to incarceration.
Meet the teachers,
Meet the guards.
Students are classmates,
Classmates are inmates.
Desks are their own iron bars,
Like all prisons, there are gangs.
One throws up signs, the other engages silent warfare.
Crips and Bloods,
Jocks and Nerds.
Like every institution, there are signs on the front.
"_______ High School",
"_______ Correctional Facility",
"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."
Vore Narrative Prompt #3 - In-Depth DescriptionRemember to read the rules first! If you didn't bother, it isn't my fault:
Summary: Write a short, descriptive scene on how you imagine vore to feel. Please include physical sensations and emotional/mental feelings. The scenario may be any you like; willing, unwilling, fatal, protection, loving, etc. If you are pred, write how it feels to eat another. If you are prey, write how it feels to be eaten. If you are an observer, write what you see happening between pred and prey, from the outside. You may do more than one or all if you prefer. No plot is necessary. You do not even need to include character names if you don't want to.
Example: "I felt pressure in my throat", "It was tight and dark, and I was overcome with fear", etc.
Focus: Please make the description as potent and detailed as possible. Try yo
levi and reader: Your annoyingly sexy caption
[Your name!]…. [Yourname~!] Hanji shook you repeatedly as she tried to wake you up from your sleep. “H-Hanji! Let me sleep!” you mumbled curling into a ball winging as she woke you from a good dream that included the short but sexy corporal. “Eh! Good morning sunshine! Today is your day off and I want to spend it with yah and my babies!!” she yells jumping on the spot. You sigh and look at your clock. “Hanji god damn it!! Its 5 in the morning!!” you yell getting out of bed getting your usual cleaning tools out of a habit. “Haha oh [yourname] I’m getting to the point where I can actually call you a clean freak like I do with shorty!!” you snap your [eye colour] eyes at the girl. “Hmm...” you say as you give your office a quick sweep over. (A/N: lol there is no dust to sweep anyway! You are a cleaning freak just like Levi!! XD). Hanji smirks and giggles at you not bothering to tell you that the only thing you are wea
Dreamin' of You Chapter 4
Dreamin' of You
I wasn't myself I stay sleeping even when Wendy and Carla came by to cheer me up even ask me on a mission they were going to do as waitresses for a cafe in Magnolia I was tempted to do it but I didn't want to see the people seeing me sad instead of smiling and cheerful. But the oddest thing happened when I came out of my shower with only a towel my window was wide open the curtine was flying from the outside, I frown walk over and close it latching it close.
"I finally found you...the girl that is using the Cerise I cared about againts me..." I spin around gasp to see Midnight looking at me menicing look but whats worst I'm naked just wearing a towel making me turn red as Erza's hair "U-um...may I get dress first? I'll catch a cold if I'm still wet and naked here..."
"...Make it fast better yet, if you say your really my Cerise I well know her body." I gasp more red "H-how would you know that?! And I well not get dress while any man is in my room!" he scuff "V
Nothing It all happened so fast. Like, a bullet that shot right through a heart.
I glared towards my aunt, clenching my teeth. Muttering, I spoke towards my father. "Can I cut that dog free?" "No. You'll get in trouble." "Me?! They stole a huntin' dog! From the streets!" I threw my arm to the side. Hanging around the county got my little accent going on. My dad hadn't said a word after that. He knew it was wrong. My aunt had stolen a dog with tags and collar. Dad was going on about wanting a picture of the poor thing before. ".. I'll take a picture of it. Gimme your phone." He had sighed then, and gave me the phone. Silent after that. Taking his phone in my hand, I turned towards my aunts van.
On my way, there stood my aunt yelling at my grandmas sister. "You mind your own business! I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do!" Glaring towards them, I tore my gaze as the sound faded. She needed to listen to us. Everyone, and yes I mean everyone , told her to let the dog
Notebook scribbles - 1My wandering mind rests in your eyes,
trying in vain to understand.
One brief second, and it goes insane.
The thoughts are lost in all its vastness.
They have no connection and make no sense, but
they are plenty.
Plenty enough to keep me going, through all this madness.
The portal between the mind and eyes
is now but a thin line, as vague as it is unseen.
The mind is unaware of what the eyes convey.
The eyes fail to convey the message in yours.
I wish to tell you that it's me and not you,
but my being fails to comprehend.
All that is said now is nothing.
I let it be, for there really is nothing to say.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More