

First and Last Night TogetherOur hands move at one thousand miles an hour, Shaking in anticipation Of what will come next, But soon we’re lost And the only shaking is our breath And out hearts are now throbbing At one thousand beats per minute, As my lightning fingers slip down your dew soaked spine, And your gritted teeth Break my skin.First and Last Night Together
We’re counting down to launch, But my count’s too quick, Drilling down to oil, then, The radio crackles, “we have a problem!” Moments too soon, I’ve caused an oil slick.
Now you pass me in the street With


Atarah“What did I ever do so wrong, That you should cast me from Grace” -Voltaire, Almost HumanAtarah
The Dirigibles were almost close enough to touch. The crews were clearly visible, manning the fins and other devices that keep the airships on course. The beauty and serene gracefulness is usually lost on the dock workers, who scurry about up here, tying lines and preparing for the next arrival but that night there was one onlooker who could admire them. Her dark robes whipped around her like wings and her hair flowed violently in the wind, red beads whipping at the end like jewelled blood. She s
Him again
Mr. Kev 2
MOOSE

FitIt’s his pathetic story; The one who does not fit, With colours uncoordinated, Normality deficit.Fit
A lacking in good taste, Or any taste at all, For should he give a damn; A selfish downfall,
An empty sort of loathing, A love for self contempt, Projects, with indignation, A soul, twisted and bent,
That one piece of the puzzle, That just will not quite fit, Perhaps he’d fit in better, If only he’d try it.
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Check out my Deviant Page [link]
~TheExquisiteCorpse
~talentclub
a.k.a Soul Reaper
All art doesnt have to have a statement behind it, you baffoon.
The only decent thing you said on your page was that you were a psuedo-intelectual. Which ironically you probably put in jest.
--
"I've grown certain that the root of all fear is that we've been forced to deny who we are."
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