| .... |


HerIt all started in a classroom, the air choked with the dense fog of adolescent angst, not to mention such physical manifestations as paper airplanes and spit-balls. Two dozen separate individuals, tied together by the fact that they were all, in different ways, coping with their rapidly changing outlooks while simultaneously trying to find a place in this world, which seemed so cruel and foreboding. Of course, this event was nothing new, it had been going on for as long as humanity had, although each generation brought a new twist, a new flavor to the cycle.Her
Some things however, never changed, and were never absent from the mind


Her-Part 2Leaves cascaded down in quick, spiraling routes before hitting the pavement, not unlike the lives of the people living in that small, poor town. Steven walked slowly away from the school building at first, but began to quicken his nervous pace as the frigid October breeze sent daggers of chilling air through the holes in his thin windbreaker. At least I have something to wear. He thought, as he passed a boy wearing an undershirt and a pair of worn jeans smoking a joint. Such attire was typical of the youth in Steven's neighborhood, as was the drug-abuse. He told himself it was the same story everywhere, that even in the richest districts of tHer-Part 2


Her-Part 3Steven's pulse quickened like a mouse before he urged himself to calm down by biting down on his lower lip. What about Megan did he need to know? Was there some sort of horrible secret under that unselfish demeanor? Could that schoolgirl exterior be hiding a dark, criminal interior? Was she into drugs? Could that be why she was running, because of some sort of deal gone bad? He held back the flash flood of scenarious in his mind, deciding instead to listen to what Charley had to say before he made any snap judgements, and silently cursing himself (for the umpteenth time that day, it seemed) for even thinking about such things. &nbHer-Part 3


Her-Part 5Anyone who's ever lived a life that was even slightly off the path of perfection knows that a rumor is like an invasive poison ivy plant. It poisons anyone who touches it, and spreads until it covers up a whole swath of land, and takea extreme measures to remove. By the time that happena, it would be too late, and several people would have, by then, contracted a rash of such unspeakable anguish that they would have been forced to hide their faces in shame. Unlike the poison ivy plant, however, a rumor's leaves are still green well after the first frost, when a poison ivy plant loses its foliage...but not its poisonous nature. There it lies, uHer-Part 5
| A story, I suppose. |


My ValentineWhat I want? Just to hold you so close you can't keep breathing But knowing how you are, oh freespirited beauty, &nbMy Valentine
| A random collection of songs, off-beat freestyle poetry, poetry, and the occasional dose of prose. Those who don't know me won't be able to pinpoint a reason for many of my works, but others know better. I don't fancy a career in writing, by the way, so don't bother trying to tell me I'm good enough for that. We'll get along famously |
| I'm a deviant of one talent but many tastes. Photography (macro, nature, portrait, urban), digital art involving almost anything, even fanart. And of course I enjoy a good piece of poetry or prose. My tastes have also become very picky of late, and if I do a Simon Cowell impression on your work, it's not because I hate you, really |
| Growin' up is hard to do without extra stuff thrown in, Dark things you shouldn't do, all roads leadin' to sin. And forget about fittin' in, this dude's as different as heck Not exactly six foot,(haha), can't keep his wisdom in check. Always the underdog, and I ain't just talkin' height, I'm talkin' about raw emotion, 'bout doin' what's right. He wants a niche in this agenda propoganda from home, He wants his name in the book, he wants his work in the tome... -Lyrical Self Portrait I'm not here for the reason you think I am, I'm not here to better my writing skills, to enjoy your art, to provide entertainment to you, I'm here for a selfish reason. Writing is my way out. |
--
Owning a deck doesn't make you a duelist any more than going to church makes you a Christian.
--
We stand here all alone,
Wishing we had someone.
I sit outside of Paradise's door,
Just to hear your breathing...
--
Join me in spreading Dev Love this February [link]
-----
Poetry Admin for =DailyLitDeviations
Improve your dA experience and yourself with #ProjectPositivity
Previous Page12345...Next Page