The Smell of Deepest AutumnThe Smell of Deepest AutumnThe crunch of leaves beneath my feet,Yellow-gold and thick-veined red dance towards the earth.Into the woods I venture, away from the song of Summer,Into the in-between world of AutumnWhere the heat of Summer still resonates, but is tempered by the chill of coming Winter.The deep, dark earth is the home of worms,Where white veins of fungus glimmerAnd eyeless things crawl and hunt similarly blind prey.Here and there, you can find their burrows,The doorway to the mushroom-lit underground.I walk between the Seasons, I traverse time,And as I leave behind Summer and cross through the Autumn HinterlandsTo the Winter Land of Death, I breathe in the Smell of Deepest Autumn.Bursts of red and orange, green fades to brown,And I taste the coldness of the Season on my tongue.Synaesthetic delight.By Vylot Hart 07/02/12
Because I Don't JustFab.ComI hadn't planned to kill her with my $1,000 leopard-and-gold-bangles shoe. I mean...I'd planned killing her. Hell, I had journals FULL of techniques. Improperly cooked blowfish delivered to her favorite table in her favorite restaurant was the one I'd been leaning toward. The problem was, Demii (emphasis on the double-i) was a snake in blonde ringlets and Louis Vuitton. A very gorgeous, very LOTIONED snake.Snakes have a bad habit of...slipping out of things, if you know what I mean, and Demii's engagement ring had a bad habit of falling off. Including, just before I shoved my stiletto through her right eye, my ex-boyfriend's crystal-lined fishbowl. The expensive four piece suit from Ann Taylor she HAD to have were bound to follow, and I could only imagine the reaction Facebook acquaintances would have to finding out my fiance had left me for someone else the night before our wedding. Again.
DaddyDaddyHe's putting me to sleep and sings me french lullabies.He reads me fairytales, tells me about romance and adventure.He wipes away my tears when I cry and strokes my cheeks till they're dry again.And in the morning he kisses me awake, humming my favourite song.He's my daddy and I love him. He's my daddy and he loves me.Sometimes I hear daddy cry. He yells, he shouts the ugly words.He screams at momma but why? Momma's here with me. Her eyes are blank, skin blue like winter.I see daddy in the kitchen, searching for the knife. I close the door and hide under my bed.He's my daddy and I love him. He's my daddy and he loves me.He loved momma, too.Daddy, may I go to sleep tonight?May I live another day awoken by your kisses?May I sit with momma for a little while?Daddy, pretty please?
Consumption: VoicesThe blood demon's eyes were bloodshot as he stared out the window.He had spent a month in the Blood Dormitory so far, where blood flowed under the crystalline surface of the rooms. The walls, ceiling, floor--everything was made of crystal, and he could feel the blood just centimeters away. It called out to him--as if it were trapped--and he longed to break the barrier between himself and the blood that needed rescuing.He swore he hadn't noticed it before. Sure, he'd glanced around when he'd toted his possessions into the room, but his room mate distracted him enough that he'd given the walls and ceiling a brief sentence or two in thought before moving onto much more important things. Such as making sure that he drew the same line in the sand between his section of the room and Theon's, and enforced said line to ensure his room mate wouldn't cross over into his space. He remembered pausing in the process of drawing, staring down at the crystal, its shiny surface catching h
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