All Eyes on the Girl
Newest
Pink Angels - Prologue“Want to play the Secret Game?” Mister’s hands are already moving, toying with the hem of Shannalee Pollard’s shorts.Pink Angels - Prologue
Shannalee tries to shake her head, but it feels heavy, fuzzy. When she tries to lift it, it only lolls to the side. Her tongue, too, feels foreign in her mouth, lodged and swollen, and she can’t seem to speak.
Mister hooks his hands under Shannalee’s armpits and lifts her off the ground. She kicks her legs, twice their normal weight, but succeeds only in knocking over the syrupy Coke that Mister gave her. She watches the spreading stain of the spilled cola soak into the dirt, darkening the earth
by ~RainbowFrog
UpI'm a trashcan poet with a rhythm, a flow that grabs onto my tongue and won't let go / it / stems from this feeling / this burning desire to crack the ceiling / 'cause I seen a flower on my way / to school today / and it pushed its way through a crack in the street / through / two thousand pounds of poured concrete / to breathe its first breath / and it gets no medals for spreading its petals but it makes itself heard because silence / is / death / and that's gonna be me, y'all / pushing up up up because I've seen / how up becomes the only option / when oppression becomes routine / and the pressure can either keep you down in a seed in the grUp
by ~RainbowFrog
Random Favourites
Morning Contemplation1.0 The grass flows over with honey as her cold toes caress the morning dew. The razor edges of green towersMorning Contemplation
tickles her ankles, makes her feel alive.
2.0 The lion in her dreams had activated her sense of reason; there are no gods in your veins.
She never believed in gods. How could there be gods when there were bees who stole her honeydew?
1.1
by ~daeira
Child-likeThe white in my eyes pools with yours.Child-like
Off I heard the vague roars of child-like officers playing child-like war. They bruise differently you said.
Yes. They must. Because it is only
-like child
There passed me an elephant of sound, but all that ever was: egg-white eyes
slowly closing, slowly in the manner I peel grapes. Slowly. The eyelid. The grapeskin. grapelid eyeskin
by ~daeira
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: GA
- Interests: Writing, reading, channeling the dark spirits
- Favourite movie: Harold and Maude, Tarnation, Welcome to the Dollhouse
- Favourite band or musician: Sleater-Kinney, Tori Amos, lots of old-school punk bands
- Favourite genre of music: Punk & new wave
- Favourite artist: Kaley (ha ha-- even though she wrote this, it's true!)
- Favourite poet or writer: Rebecca Godfrey, David Wojnarowicz, Dennis Cooper, Scott Heim, William T. Vollmann, Dorothy Allison
- Favourite photographer: Robert Mapplethorpe, Kaley
- Favourite cartoon character: Daria, Emily the Strange
- Personal Quote: Heaven won't take me and I'm not sure Hell is any better than here. - William T. Vollmann
- Tools of the Trade: My pen, my sword, my mighty metaphor.
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Keep up good work!
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~Laika-Lorien~
Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you critisize them, you're a mile away, and you have their shoes!
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Whore it up in the forums! Take the advertisement to the wall!
I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather. Not screaming in terror like his passengers.
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Whore it up in the forums! Take the advertisement to the wall!
I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather. Not screaming in terror like his passengers.
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Art is what you make of it
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