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Soul Mate Soul Mate
There are four lobes in the brain. The frontal, parietal, temporal, and occipital lobe.
The frontal lobe is where higher level of cognition is stored. Reasoning and motor skills also take place in the frontal lobe.
A chair squeaked. Her eyes narrowed to see a man sit next to her.
"Hello." He smiled at her.
She stared at him.
"Hi...? Can I help you?"
His smile didn't waver. "I see you here often. Almost everyday actually. With the same textbooks." He tapped the top of the pile. " Intro to Psychology, Intro to Sociology and World Mythology. That's a lot of work for a tiny girl." He smirked.
"If that's a compliment it's not a very nice one." She smiled a little.
"And you also always try to get this table in the corner."
"I like my corners thank you very much." She thought for a second. Her smile dissolved. "Are you stalking me?"
"Stalking? Don't flatter yourself. I come here often. I love there coffee don't you? Best coff
Liliums LifeLiliums Life
Lilium is half angel half devil. Her mom is an angel and her dad is a devil. She has an older brother with no name yet. xD Her parents meet each other and fell in love. They both had a child and neither god nor the devil accepted it. Her dad was close friends to the devil and the devil was very upset that he lost a close friend. Both her parents were banish to earth to have there half breed children and to never return to either lands.
Liliums older brother is more angel then demon looking while Lilium is more demon looking then angel. Lilium has long purple hair, one blue eye one purple eye, and very pale skin. She has one white wing and one black wing. Lilium was constantly bullied because of how she looked. And was very head strong growing up. Ku Tian was one of her best friends when she was growing up.
When Lilium became older, she found out the story of her parents and decided to go to hell to visit the devil. It wasn't an easy task but she m
BottlesUgh... everything's so blurry. What's going on? My head hurts. Wasn't I suppose to see someone? Or do something?
Laying on the cold wet ground, Echo ponder as to what she's suppose to do. She look ahead of her, a few feet away from her she saw an old wooden box. It was open with different shapes of bottles inside. They had a mysterious glow to them.
Blinded, Echo tried to see clearly around her. All she saw were the wooden box with the glowing bottles inside.
"Where am I?"
StreakI remembered how the thin crimson line oozed out little streaks of blood. Slithering down my arm making a little red road. Fear crept up before me-also relief came, mixed in my emotions.
Accident"Hello there." said a girls eerie voice. The room was dark except a light aurora around Ivy.
"It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you Ivy ."
"H-how do you know my name?" Ivy responded, voice shaking.
"What a terrible accident." Ignoring Ivy, the voice came from behind. Ivy look back to find a teenage girls figure a few feet away. Very petite and small. Her eyes glow a deep red, as if to strike and kill.
"You almost lost your wings that time. Doesn't really matter since they're shattered and torn to bits." A grin came upon her face.
"And can you believe the girl that did it?" The girl disappeared. Ivy look left and right, shacking.
"It was someone special to you." The girl appeared behind Ivy and whispered into Ivy's ear.
Ivy jumped forward, she spun around keeping her eyes on the mystery girl, to afraid to lose sight of her again.
The girl look at her curiously. "Do you not remember anything? Interesting..."
Lilium appear from above, her wings extended to sh
CheerI'm living my life as if it's the last moment I have.
Who knows, maybe I'll make it.
Maybe I won't.
Taking life for granted.
I just did what made me happy.
Then everything changed.
When I couldn't even be me anymore.
I was someone that I didn't even know who.
I just had to break free.
And it lead me to where I am today.
So Ivy, cheer up. You might have fallen,
but there are always people to lend you a hand to help you get right back up.
Around MeSometimes she stares out of the window, pondering. Sitting in her favorite spot where she can see everything. Anything she wanted.
What happened? she thought.
Raindrops dance along the window, she watched as they trickled down the slick glass.
I remember falling... I tried using my wings but they became numb. When I hit the ground it didn't feel hard, and my wings didn't hurt. But I felt more then the ground. I felt warmth from something... someone.
Ivy rested her head on the cool glass, closing her eyes slowly.
What happen before that? I remember gray clouds, holding onto a hand, and water drops that fell on my face.
Ivy hit her head softly on the glass.
Behind the door, Lilium stood there peaking in at Ivy's confusion. She then walked away, knowing that Ivy will never remember her past.
You Wanted to KnowThe old wooden floor creaked eerie as Lilium walked. Her eyes searching the old, dusty attic. Dim moonlight entered from the lonely, foggy window, ancient boxes piled up on each other. Forgotten furniture collecting dust in every corner of the room.
Lilium searched for one thing.
And she found it.
A child hanged there. Her golden curly locks covered her lifeless face. Her skin porcelain white.
Four middle aged men stood around the lifeless body, proud at what they've done.
"The fortune will be ours!" Exclaimed the dark haired man, his eyes shinnying.
"With her out of the way, they have to give us the land and business."
Expressionless, Lilium started to walk toward the men.
A man with a white mustache noticed her.
"Who the hell are you?"
Alarmed, they looked at her.
Lilium glared at them.
"Sadly, you have to go to hell for your crimes As punishment." Lilium thought for a moment. "Well, it isn't that sad now that I think about it "
"H-how the hell do you know?" One of the m
Where am I?Walking endlessly in a black ink area. No walls. No sky. No ground. Am I falling? Am I flying? It fells like I'm floating.
I lost myself in the confusion.
And now I can't find my way back.
Where did I go?
How did I look like? How did I act?
You want to retrieve something you don't remember?
Faded images of a group of people were all around. Their so happy. Who are they? They look familiar...
You don't remember them?
I didn't want to say.
They were your friends. You forgot about them?
-Kutian and Nightmare
I am a MouseI am a mouse.
I am quiet, I am nothing.
I am a book that nobody has read.
I am an eclipsed sun and a cloaked moon.
I am irrelevant and unwanted, a broken toy in an attic.
I am the dust in your rear-view mirror that you leave behind.
I am the air that you breathe in and spit out as something different.
I am the palest white. I am the darkest black. I am the dullest, emptiest grey.
I am the old man with forgotten memories and the baby who has yet to make them.
I am a forgotten word, dangling on the tip of your tongue, hanging on the noose of your lips.
I am a dried up stream. I am a felled forest. I am an abandoned cornucopia of resolute nothingness.
And there is Hell burning in my eyes.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
poem for borderlinesif i could concentrate over
seven hundred thousand eyes
at the roof to the numbers stepping
from the nicities & rows
to go back
to the shattered surface
& the ripples beating over the hang
halfway between shallow
biting lips. maybe--
she couldn't have known
that it takes a whole three minutes
for the lungs to
well, maybe she
who, oh well
the white; the haze--
the booming over
the spume and spray
me get out of my head
just pull up the shutters
my tongue the weight to talk
but that's all we'll ever be:
a match burning itself out for
under the backspray of someone else's wheels
The PointIt’s the taste of cake mix on the spoon, that first time you ‘help’ bake a cake.
It’s seeing the bright world afresh after a dark nightmare, when you first wake.
It’s when you make them laugh and, in that moment, everyone loves a clown.
It’s when your heart stops before the roller coaster plummets down, down.
It’s when the lights go out before your favourite band plays and you scream.
It’s that moment you look around and everything’s perfect enough to be a dream.
It’s the anticipation of waiting for a new episode of your favourite television show.
It’s the first time you listen to your favourite record and you just sort of know.
It’s reading a book cover-to-cover and a million times more and still crying at the ending.
It’s the stiff, tight, real feeling of a smiling scab as you watch the wound mending.
It’s when you first meet your best friend and you hate each other (but in a good way).
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More