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I Don't Miss AdolescenceMy sister calls to ask me if I'll do her makeup;
Mami promised that she would, but she's tired
and screamed when Maria reminded her senior prom
is tonight. She says, "I have a hickey on my neck,
something she doesn't want to cover, and you've always
done a better job of highlighting the subtle graces
inherent to my bone structure, the angles we share."

I say, "That's okay, but I can't pick you up,"

so she arrives in a flourish of exasperations,
telling me all the family business, waving her nails
in my face and talking about the pain of her extensions.
She says, "Do you think we need yellow concealer?
I plan to take pictures, and the last
Onyx DreamsOnyx Dreams
 
Fluctuations of sound waves vibrate the floor,
While the lights of my room glow brilliantly,
But as time winds down and my energy starts its decline,
My vision gets blurry and listening becomes hearing,
And hearing becomes simple background noise,
While Palaceer Lazaro’s words become filmy intonations
Yet, still creating a motion picture full of abstract images,
In my mind full of words and phrases that do nothing but stay stagnant,
And Slumber begins to wrap her warm hands around my head,
As she sweetly begins to pull me into black depths of rest,
A state of unconsciousness that will take me on a journey,
Through the grey abyss we call the center of our nervous system,
And once I fall into the pit of nothingness, the pit of onyx, for those few hours,
I will transform into an atramentous being with aphotic wings,
Because “black is free……..”
You were cold insideYour lips tasted of
summer, of warm days and
cherry-flavoured ice,
relaxing by the
pool side and
smiling against the sun.

You should have been too hot,
too sticky, too humid.
You should have
overheated, should have
melted into your bones until
they turned to ashes, but
it never happened.

I suppose I should have
seen it coming, but
I was so moonstruck over
the way you said my name, so
in love with the idea
of love, that I
didn't notice the way
your eyes bled
winter.
7 - The Pet PoetI remember when Mommy bought you
a black-haired pet for your sweet sixteenth.
Its bronze collar said its name was "Poet."
You fed it noise from the out-of-tune piano,
intense moments involving flesh and razors,
and the occasional walk by the lake.

At first, he knew only the wolf's howl,
purging blood and flames onto the carpets.
Everywhere was a smell of extravagance --
like that woman's cheap perfume on the train to work.
But you cried a little less,
smiled a bit more.
And that was when Daddy stopped
trying to send it back to the shelter.

Soon, you even started watching T.V.
(and enjoyed food, dressed nice, made friends.)
But T
She's changedIf you looked at a little girl with big brown eyes and soft hair from the crown of her head
Her dreams would be big and her worries would be simple
And you’d say “She’ll be going places”

If you looked at a young girl with a toothy grin and a giddy laugh
Her pride would be strong and her conscience would be clear
And you’d say “She looks happy”

If you looked at a shy growing girl with her forehead covered and sleeves down to her fingertips
Her eyes would be distracted and her heart would be a drama queen
And you’d say “I don’t know who she is”

If you looked at a maturing girl
VIIEncore un peu de cendre
Au coin de tes lèvres
Parolescentes

J'épluche tes souhaits
Tu laves le ciel
En vain

Et dans ce vent chaud
Des milliers de pétales
De peau
nothing specialthey tell you not to give up
because you have potential--
and to the ones who simply enjoy
you're probably fantastic
but to those who do
you're simply mediocre,
nothing to bat an
eyelash at.

you're not quite bad enough
to quit, but you're not
great enough to be
remembered.
unrequitedyou make my words
gather at the hollows
of my throat
until i choke on them.

my fingers ache to
hold you--
but my eyes ache to
cry.

you're nothing but heart break
wrapped in a bow
of something beautiful,
like the dust of grace from
fallen angels.

i drink a little faster and
cry a little harder
because the way whiskey and tears
mingle on my lips
tastes suspiciously of love.
Thinking.Thinking without thought,
Not thinking about a lot.

Thinking about what it how it would be,
To have a thoughts as endless as the sea.

Thinking about the passing time,
About the mountains I have not climbed.

Thinking about a world gone by,
And about the big blue sky.

Thinking about love so sweet,
And of life crumbling at my feet.

To think about everything vast as it seems,
Would take as long as counting dreams.

So to think without a thought,
And not to think about a lot.

Would carry on an endless dream,
And let time unravel at it's seams.
SeppukuA blue sky greets me as I kneel to the ground.
I hear the rushing wind and the sacred water sound.
The cold, grey stone upon my knee,
As I prepare myself for eternity.

I take a solemn look at my silent crowd,
Those cruel, dark faces scream so loud.
They want me to do the final deed.
I'll plunge the tanto in. They'll see me bleed.

I look for a while at my full rice bowl,
And prepare for the next cycle of my soul.
What shall I be? A man or god?
Shall my next life be lived in the mud and sod?

I finish quickly so we don't delay.
By now the light is fading away.
I take up the pen and start to write,
To put brush to paper is one last delight.

"
To Our Princess We Must GoHow dare you take from us our Princess!
How dare you cast away her light!
How dare you seize her from us!
We resist with all our might!
You saw the signs of her sadness!
You saw the signs of her dismay!
You saw the darkness growing!
‘Twas you who had betrayed!
Abduct from us our feathers!
Give us wings of flesh and bone!
Bear a mark upon us
We are loyal to the crescent throne!
Send us all up to her
And as you cast away this third
We will scorn and hate and curse you!
Dismiss us from the herd!
Don’t fret for long, dear Luna
For we are well upon our way!
May our presence to you be comfort
It’s at your side forever shall we sta
Petit OiseauDon’t move a muscle
I’m not even drawing in breath
Through my heart
Oh, such a tiny, naïve little thing!
Will she let me approach, if I’m careful enough?

Or will wings divide my intentions
Widening gaps from the soil to the sky
Soil in my hands, and
Purple stars in her breath
I could never hurt you, little pixie
My winged Thumbelina

I don’t move a muscle
I’m focusing on not drawing breath
Lungs contract
She gives me a heartwarming stare
And oh, I am moments away!

But stop! Coarse laughter sings
Dark notes that may injure her
But the dancer still hops, unaware
Of the tears designing my chee
The Boy Who WaitsThe train rolls past the selfish boy,
The boy who stands and waits forever,
The boy who watches the girl fly past,
And wishes she would get off at his stop.

The boy stuck in circles,
The boy who always needs help,
The shy boy with the social prowess of a shattered rock.

He waits and waits,
And every time she flies past,
He hopes and hopes.

She talks to him often,
But sometimes not so much,
He feels like he’s walking straight when she speaks,
Her words make sense to his boggled mind.

The boy at the station,
With eyes wide in anticipation,
The selfish boy who wishes good things to happen,
The boy who takes things for granted,
Who thin
Left AloneYou want me to leave you alone?  I'll leave you alone.

You want me to buy you a cake and a knife?  Sure I'll do that.

So, what else do you need me to do?  OK.  That should be easy to do.

Here I go, walking to and fro, to unknown destination just so I can please you.

You hate my guts, huh?  Well, to be honest, and I will not lie, I hate your guts too.

You see me and I see you, walking past each other each and everyday - We do not smile.

I often invision you surrounded by flames and you invision me drowning in the sea.

And here is my question to you: Why do you hate me so much?

You snarl as you echo my words: Why do YOU hate me so much?
No wordsI don't like to talk.
I feel that words cannot truly express what I feel.
When I am filled with emotion, I can find no word that can express what I feel to the fullest.
There is no word beautiful enough to describe this joy, no word horrible enough to describe this hate, no word ugly enough to describe this miserable existence.
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More from ~DaisyHart

LightI sought nothing,
But the forms I now know.

This is the life that I had been seeking.

Something so simplistic,
Is the tiny hands’ warmth that I hold today.

The light that I found,
Is always with me.

It’s there in your smile,
His laugh,
Her joyous eyes.

It’s all that I need,
And all that I want.

As I lean in your arms,
And watch them play,
I know I couldn’t be happier than this.

To live what I’d dreamed,
To reach happiness unfathomably gold,
Seemed only a childish dream.

I had known happiness was possibly,
But never hoped it would be this gold.

Yet the light that I sought,
Is here in your arms,
Is here in
Horror Story Collab Pt 1Chapter 1 – Introductions
Page 1 – Daisy

Do you believe in the Supernatural? You know, I’ve always been a believer in things like that. Maybe it’s a little foolish, but when you have a past living around the haunting grounds of a drowned little girl when you were only four to seven…it….comes a little naturally.
   I don’t know if you’ll believe the story I want to tell you, but I hope you’ll listen. I don’t want you to do something as stupid as this. Well, I guess you’d want to know who I am.
   My name is Daisy Hartford. I’m seventeen years old and a sophomore at a
Spectral ~Night Fire~Have you seen,
The fire glow?

In the depths of night,
When we’re all meant to sleep?

I have seen the campfire light,
Turn the darkness bright.

The apparitions dance and sing,
A congregation that ends,
When the sun burns away the black.

I’ve watched the translucent forms of many,
Chat hand-in-hand in a lively way.

To stray from their repetition,
Is something they know not how to do.

Watch the Night Fire’s burning glow,
Watch it burn and soon grow low.

To stray my gaze from the spectral sight,
Is something I know not how to do.

The same fire is glowing tonight,
But no one breaks the ceremonial ways.

Spectral and live,
Narrative MemeI. Choose up to five (5) of your favorite original story characters that will embark in this role-play. If you don't have five (5) then leave them blank (or create a character on the spot!) Be sure to give a little description of them:
1. Onia

2. Marcia Ellens

3. Urimi Saharu

4. Rose

5. Luna Marie Sparks

II. Asleep, Character Two  or Character Four  are dreaming of their most pleasant childhood memory. What is it about?

Marcia Ellens:
Once again, a young woman had decided to perch herself within the branches of an aged tree. Its foliages hid her petite form from view, but the brief breaths raised and fell.

A girl no older than thirte
The Phantom's White Daisies"Through the sky one night,

Soared a white dove.

Its colors were hidden by the sky's veil,

The sky that was that of a raven's wings.

All burst forth in the seething colors of rage,

And only a call could sound through the dark night,

To hasten forth the people.

On that fateful night,

Many crystal tears were shed.

So many were left to weep.

Traton revived,

In the way of a phoenix.

By the day the dove could soar again,

They had recovered.

An Angel's Epitaph was raised,

To speak of the valiant ones who fell,

In the days to follow that fateful night.

For those who fell that burning night,

The white daisies are left behind.

For t
Angel's Epitaph    "May peace be brought to those who leave the confines of the ephemeral life behind. From our sides, they have been forced to stray. May they find that a path of white will stretch before them, in the invitation to a paradise. May not their spirits wander, except for in the moments of farewell. Wishing them the bliss of ever- happy paradise, we give voice to such a wish. To those who were lost in the heat of war, rest now in peace."

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[x]

Waking

:icondaisyhart:

Skylight,
Golden rays brighten.

Up in the sky,
Velvet clouds drift so lazily.

Skybirds.
Chirping to signal the breaking of the dawn.

Here we are.
Walking down a gold-lit street.

A bright new morning,
Beckons us awake.

We shake the tiredness from our forms,
Barely thinking, just now walking.

A bag slung over shoulder,
I give a heavy yawn.

Beautiful place full of languishing blooms,
In the Fall's cold clutch.

My form does shiver,
But I love this cold.

A building up ahead,
Stepping inside.

A rush of voices,
A flood of bustling forms.

Joyous,
Angry,
Tired,
Waking.

Just now working,
Still shaking the tiredness from my form.

Silent now,
Thoughts just now moving.

Skylight,
Golden rays lighten even moreso.

Up in the sky,
Cotton clouds swifty float.

Skybirds,
Alight on the trees.

Just now waking,
We're just now thinking.
:icondaisyhart:
The final part to the old work I am uploading.
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