age. I reckon that when they find me out,age. by *EverydaySaint
I'll be a free man at last.
They've almost got me,
every foreign tongue under
the cut-throat sun. They're sending me by
ship to the gallows on an island with
no sand and no clouds and no meaning,
just a land-locked religion.
I hope you'll be there someday, too,
so that I don't become so simple as
the salt in the sea. Oh god, I hope so.
We, speaking for only you and I,
will one day be free, I know,
but what is freedom anymore?
Even our aesthetic hands have
some form of chain that wraps around and about,
so in any case, what is happiness?
Is happiness religion?
A smile gently fitted over my
dear hogwarts, if i don't get mydear hogwarts, by *EverydaySaint
letter by tomorrow i
will shoot this bitch up.
how i get the lead roles. My greatest talenthow i get the lead roles. by *EverydaySaint
is loving any man or woman
for a few pleasing moments.
Yes, I am the king of
the sickest transitions,
from the sweet starlet swimming
beneath my mother's praise,
to the boy with the Neptune body
thumping my qualities into
perfumed hunger,
into one-thousand
craving bodies.
Oh, I suppose it is not noble;
I suppose I am not the epitome of
your best-dressed morality,
the most human of your
award-winning beings,
but when I kiss the audiences from
the passions I impose,
from the coldest heart of which I
strip out and hand over,
I am not myself.
In those ticking moments,
I feel beautiful and
full of purp
the self-portrait. i am at your funeral.the self-portrait. by *EverydaySaint
i am at your farewell and i am sitting next to your mother. no, your father. yes, i am sitting on the front row next to your father and we are speaking in tongues (you know, the english-language kind but with heavy doses of small talk and uplifting, therapeutic scriptures), and your grandmother is beside your casket and she is arranging the lilacs and roses and your least favorite aunt is leaning against the wall sobbing in academy-award winning bits of good-bye, but mostly in self-pity as your grandfather explains to the family-lo
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Daily Lit Deviations for May 22nd, 2012
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Poetry
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The Day After the Funeral by :de
dead lily i was alive, i loved you, and now i am dead and made of wiltingdead lily by ~Reverberations
flowers. you are the ashes they sent away in my name.
maybe you should not have kicked me.
perhaps you should have tended to me.
but you did not and so i have died.
The Galaxy Sings in B Flat The galaxy sings in B flat.The Galaxy Sings in B Flat by ~DarkDaria713
Fifty-seven octaves below middle C, hundreds of thousands of tiny stars with little worlds trailing atmospheres in elliptical orbits. Double-star systems, triple-star, more; planets, civilisations, dark matter, tangible matter, all circling, swarming, humming together in one enormous note, not bumping together but carrying a wave from the centre of their island universe, expanding out into space…
Sound cannot exist in a vacuum. This is a widely known fact. And space is a vacuum, sure. But only when you look at it from here, from our tiny little world. Close your eyes, zoom out, and look at the celestial
appreciate it + btw. happy new year 
Sta.sh
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