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I have no desire to be King.As corny words spew from my mouth
I lack braincells to channel toward brilliance,
as it dissipates into raindrops from a cloud
hovering above our existence.
The verbs make the poem, not the adjectives.
"That will look so good on your college application."
I need you to think of something.
Blah Blah Blah like. like. Blah Blah Blah he did this *smack*
Blah Blah Blah you know? Blah
I can't hear you anymore.
I can't hear those overused phrases
you shove down my throat and ears.
I can't hear you anymore.
went the bubble
in my mouth
being squished between my teeth.
fair and square;
your bubble was bigger.
I stuck French fries to your car with honey
spelling everyone's favorite phrase when they're mad at a best friend
that starts with F and ends with U.
You told me you felt guilty,
and I told you I wasn't angry,
but actions speak louder than words, bitch.
Spinning BackwardsWe clash and burn;
this is true love at its finest.
What happened to those warm days when we didn't have to think.
It was simply me and you,
or you and me,
with no more than a buzz of underlying tension.
Now your distrust is wrapped around me so tightly,
the buzzing is at an ear-slicing pitch,
not leaving room for me to process what will happen next;
and you wonder why I've acted like such a freak.
I miss the old you,
and you miss the old me.
But no matter how hard I try,
the world will never spin backwards.
SaleumYou are hereby sentenced to hang by the neck until dead. A petty soldier read this last sentence of the young womans death decree quite mechanically under the cheery shade of an oak tree. The masked executioner standing by also enjoying the shade drew his much-too-large sword and cut the last remaining lifeline of the unfortunate woman being held from a high branch of the tree. She dangled there, thrashing her feet in that uncontrollable way during the last few desperate moments experienced before ones life ends. The rope was cut again, and she fell to the ground with a dull thump as the crowd slowly drifted away down the path back to their little homes that were much too small for their large families.
It was a fine day in the town of Saleum, but a dreary and solemn mood hung over its people like an invisible mist; most people suspected it was due to the numerous witchcraft trials and hangings that were occurring near
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More