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Random Literary Things For When The Forum Is Asleep
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Random Literary Things For When The Forum Is Asleep
bright, not just white


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10-13-2014, 10:47 PM
Hi there. I'm Flyleaf. I enjoy writing things. This will be where I post them, generally, when and if I get around to it. Just a disclaimer, most of these will be taken directly from my deviantART. So, that said, let's see how much I can twist your happy thoughts into those of pure anguish.

Round 1
I couldn't stand the smell.

"Oh, you'll get used to that."

A wave of iron hit me, causing me
to wrinkle my nose in absolute abbhoration.

She smiled and took my unused hand,
whispering to me softly: "Oh sweetie, you
were always the best surgeon I ever knew."

Blood poured from every pore that it reached.

When it carefully, precisely, caressed her
flesh, she couldn't help but supress a

It slid into her starting at the left ear,
towards me again.

I couldn't stand the smell.

"Oh, you'll get used to that."

Round 2
-And I was all smiles. I couldn't help but smile. It wanted me to; I wanted it's soft, smooth feeling flowing through my veins.
It kept me calm. Alive. I loved it. The prettiest princess, I was, every single time I saw that needle.
And every single disgusting, gut-wrenching, awful, unsatisfying day of this dreadful existence.
It saved me.
And I loved it for it.
Is it so wrong, to need a fix on a broken piece of a malfunctioning machine?
I could feel the rust under my skin; shards of glass spinning inside of me, beauty being sapped away to keep the feeling of being alive.
And I wanted to feel alive. I wanted it so much that every morning when I wanted to die-
When I wanted to cry so much that I would vomit my insides out-
When I couldn't stand being alone in this damp, pitiful room-
Locked in an even less satisfying existence-
I took solace in my one true friend.
He - it - plunged itself into me without my knowing, pumping it's happiness inside.
And as I stepped outside, and saw the burning sun, and knew I was still alive,
The rust was gone, as was the glass. My skin felt soft, kissed by the embrace of my dearest.
But later, when I came back home, I was peeling from the inside out.
Skin so cold that I would feel warm inside of a glacier,
So unkempt and pitiful that even the scummiest man would never take me,
So needy that even the strays wouldn't stay with me,
And I cried myself to sleep, vomit stains on my rusted skin.
But in the morning, he was there for me when there was no one else.
And then he plunged himself in to me-