I love my History, English, Theater, and German classes. Everything else is surviveable. Ah well.
I'd like some cake, but I've been informed that it is too close to bed. Darn.


I've lost my wordsStand at the window, boy, Look out on the gray sky And the colored city. Stand there in your monochrome With your mono-expression face And bright blue shoes: Your lover's-past- Cross-gender, cross the globe, Crossmyheartandneverlie Shoes. Someday you'll jump out yourI've lost my words
Glass-less window only to fly up, Somewhere you don't want to go- Standing in the middle is best, You always say. Monochromatic boy, Give me something to say to you.


Ghostly PortraitEvery day the dawn comes, but some days it doesn't exist. It's just as dark as 11:32 PM, the last time she looked at the clock before she ran away. Getting lost in the mazes of her mind, all her worries and overwhelming fears and every mistake she's ever made (all the way back to who-knows-when, that time she painted the sky purple). She knows that she doesn't know everything, maybe nothing, because what do you know in a black lake, sinking, sinking? And the day she told somebody (she regrets that too--another mistake), and that somebody, unimportant, offered every concession for her 'disability,' she denied it, it's only a strength to neverGhostly Portrait


MonochromismThis is not a tragedy. It is a monochromatic, average little one-sided romance. And you shouldnt read it:Monochromism
They knew each other, yes, knew names and backgrounds and ages, even the type of contacts the other wore. One was a lover and a writer and the other could only love the things that didnt love her back. But it wasnt a tragedy, it was a matter of knowing who you are and being young and taking three steps forward before falling; they were children, they were young.
She went home one night to think, felt warm and smooth until she realized the type of love she wanted. She was an artist once, but foun


Theological HypocrisyI am of the opinion that all theologians should be utterly detached from all religion. This way, they can enter their studies with a keen eye and an open heart, she says, then pauses, apparently considering something. Looking troubled, the young woman continues, I would make a terrible theologian. Im godless, yes, but also all too invested. The woman, Anne, as her nametag proclaims, fingers a small gold cross hanging from her neck.Theological Hypocrisy
A voice from near the front of the auditorium calls loudly, Then why are you wearing that?! He sounds offended, and she decides that he must be a st
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I like my soul on text. I love your soul on toast.
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I think that I've decided: if I'm going to go mad, I should enjoy every minute of it.
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I like my soul on text. I love your soul on toast.
<3
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
NOW WHAT?!
Spread the DA love around! (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!)
RULES:
1- You can hug the person who hugged you!
2- You -MUST- hug 6 other people, at least!
3- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their user page!
4- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
5- You should most definitely get started hugging right away!
Send This To All Your Friends, And Me If I Am 1.
If You Get 7 Back You Are Loved!
1-3 you're a bad friend
4-6 you're an ok friend
7-9 you're a good friend
10-& Up you're a great friend
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Two out of every pair of people
need a hug at least seven times a week...
Don't go unhugged.
Take a free hug from someone today.
I'll be going around tonight to everyone that promised prizes, so you will be getting them soon.
Congratulations again!
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*dALinkSystem | #Writers-Workshop | *project-improve | *LITplease | *Lit-Twitter | =DeviantArtSecret
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I think that I've decided: if I'm going to go mad, I should enjoy every minute of it.
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coming up roses everywhere you go.
It's very much appreciated!
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I'm no expert, so take the above with a grain of salt.
~writeaway*PoetryPlease*The-Literati~The-Last-Stanza
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