Steamy windows cloud the rain-washed haze of the passing street lights. Droplets cascade down cold glass, leaving behind tiny, branch-like trails. Taking everything in its way. Ghostly shapes form in the trails. I pluck at the tattered fabric of the bus seat. I see little faces in the almost carpet-like material. I blink tiredly and look around. Trying to remember exactly where I am, what I got myself into. I pull my mind back from this great clattering piece of steel and engine and back into my little darkness. Closing myself down inside. It's nice. I let my eyelids relax a little. My fingers twitch. I see stars, I hear them, and somehow I c
Through dense undergrowth she ran. No chosen path, no idea to where she was running. Her legs seemed to act by themselves, as if they had a mind of their own. She leapt over logs, stumps and low branches, running barefoot through a dimly lit woodland. Her hair got caught in thorns and twigs, stopping only to free herself. She didn't bother to tie up her hair, she didn't have the time. This was all part of Katherine Hemlock's daily routine, rising at dawn to run through the neighbouring woods, wearing nothing but a ragged, short white dress.
Her foot slipped on a pile of wet leaves and she fell, rolling down and landing in a dirty puddle. Thi
On all fours
When the sun shines
When rain pours
Into the woods
Henry the Rabbit
Is up to no good
His fur is all ragged
He's bony and thin
He greets you all with
A sinister grin
He spends his time
Curled up on the ground
Watching and waiting
Not making a sound
Henry the Rabbit's
A strange little fellow
His face is skinned raw
His teeth are all yellow
He ambles away
In a strange, clumsy dance
You're tempted to follow
Will you take the chance?
The International Elite Corps, known informally as the IEC, is an underground intelligence agency. Its exact location is unknown, even to those who travel there. It is easily accessible, once you are one of the fortunate few who are appointed there. Places in the agency are often inherited and appointed, as the applicants often brought up their children on the grounds of the IEC, or the applicants have been observed by undercover inspectors, picking out fresh minds from the tangled masses. Either way, one has to take an oath, spoken before the President of the organisation before enrolment. The current President is a Monsieur Pascal André
I can still smell her perfume
Pressing its sweet body
Against your shirt like a ghost
I can see the marks in your eyes
Where her gaze bore into yours
Like a burn mark or a scratch
Seen and felt
I see the wrinkles on your lips
Where you smiled and laughed
Where your mouth twisted
As she kissed you.
I'm sorry, were you talking?
Two eyes. Grey eyes.
Cold like frozen steel.
One for each of us.
What you saw killed us both.
Two lips. Red lips.
Vivid like a blood trail.
Two streams of death.
One for each of us.
It was your lips that ruined us.
Your teeth that tore us apart.
Like stripping meat from a bone.
Your eyes undressed her, raped her
Ripped off her clothes and loved her.
Wrinkles surround your eyes
Where they used to crease
When you laughed, cried
And remembered how to smile.
You abandon happiness.
Lock it up
In a box.
Swallow the key.
Cover it with cement.
Drop it into the ocean.
Find a house by the road
Where no one ever goes.
Wrap yourself in your velvets
Your chocolates and your tobacco.
Create a cocoon and fall asleep.
Hope for it all to change.
Never, ever wake up.
Keep yourself in your empty house.
It's not a home. You're alone.
You're not even sure you're alive.
Don't dare open your eyes.
You can't stand to see the people.
Smiling, laughing, living.
The lovers tear you to shreds
I can feel you, your great shadow
Looming over me and everything I touch
Every connection I try to make to the world
You warn them against it.
You scare them with stories about me.
Washing away all chances of friendship
Stamping out all traces of recognition.
Just because the wind blew away
The traces of friendship you and I had
Does not mean you pursue me with an axe
And sever the ties I try to build.
Your eyes make the cities burst into flame
Your lips evaporate time and space
Great stone towers, mighty walls
You burn them all to the ground.
In a single glance you freeze the sun.
In one breath you blow away the stars
Great red flames, towering infernos
You stop them flicker, freeze them solid.
With a mind that shatters air
And a heart that pushes away the moon
You clear the night sky, just for a moment
So you can invade it with stars of your own.
I tangle your hair into a web
In which to make my bed
Whispering nothing into your ear
Afraid to admit this is all mundane.
The devil, he taught you all his tricks
You, in turn, taught me them too
While I tried to teach flowers to bloom
And birds to sing, and bells to ring
When I needed someone to turn my pages
You came with moist fingertips
But your eyelids were heavy
And so you closed the book too soon...
It's Kaz here. Just to drop a message to any of my followers who want to know how I've been getting on. Life is great. I got engaged, I have a permanent job position and am starting my transition (I'm FTM).
I'm also still creating! Just not posting here because I've often found the dA interface difficult at the best of times. You can see me create, rant and enthuse over twitter (username: gladbrother) or see some of my more advanced pieces in The Static Room (search it on facebook). Also this old profile is down as 'lady' blackdove, a name that is outdated and somewhat embarrassing. I don't have the energy to create a new profile
That's good that you haven't vanished yet. ^^ By the way I drew something for you. I'm gonna scan it tomorrow and give you a link to my tumblr P.S. Your webcam is priceless. And thank you for the llama