GIANT GIANT FEATURE!

:thumb142259515::thumb109728060::thumb109518550: the witch's tapers are eroticTongues don't think;
thoughts don't speak;
words don't dance;
and legs don't talk.
Yet somehow,
my tongue pressed up against your chapped thighs;
my cracked lips bit through the cracks of your hips--
crackedcrackedcracked
like the scrambled eggs
in the picnic basket
Little Red Riding Hood
gave the malnourished wolf.
Fangs are harmless, but oh dear,
it seems the eggshells are walking on me
like I'm some kind of unvacuumed carpet.
The piling dirt syndicate ganged up on me,
set aflame my summer snowmen,
impeached my Conscience's Chief Cricket;
Oh, my diet lacks relevance and coherence,
but my appetite swallows clinquant harbingers
until the beckoning shadows capsize me.
Oh, one outdated silhouette won't kill me, will it?
--
Connoisseurs sold me the World for a candle,
but a planet without light is like a black cat in a vet,
or a shamrock with all its leaves plucked off.
It's like a poem without a cliche,
a fairytale without a bigbadwolf,
a starving mouth without teeth,
a circle wit the one who never fell for himdear love,
your laugh tastes like strawberries on a winter night;
your breath feels like [insert fruit] on a ldfjasal;askdfjsa,
and the colour of your voice matches my broken heart.
Holy shit, you're cliché!    
I've heard better pickup lines from my grandma's sister's cousin's potato farmer, Henry, who probably has a better chance in my pants than you and your reherased verses.  Oh, and excuse my rhyming.  I hate sounding pretentious/poetic.
PS You're from Idaho, so stop adding a "U" in color as if it's an airplane.
my pickup lines are sincere, so maybe you should pick up phonelines because it keeps ringing and ringing like the diamons you don't want on your finger.  because your fingers like stroking your ego, and my fingers like pressing redial.
You're not clever, so ixnay the ordplayway.  You spelled "diamonds" wrong; learn to spellcheck, okay?  While you're at it, learn to capitalize correctly my canary escaped your dovecotthe birdhouse brothel
i once was addicted to
went out of business.
the sparrows in my heart
have impaled my feathered bones.
pluck off my petals,
because without you,
why should i bother to fly?
this bedlam's all i know...
--
squawking in my cage?
wrap newspapers around me;
smother me with ghosts;
tell me it's nighttime;
you know i will believe you.
i'm such a rebel.
i'm not good enough;
send me back to the petstore.
i'm their problem now.
--
after all,
a nest is empty without its bellhop:thumb142619948::thumb142750445::thumb142742225::thumb140138958::thumb136191240::thumb134695736::thumb142668338::thumb141452289::thumb138588611: UnderstandUnderstand:
Your eyes of glass
Vacant and stained
Your expression
Tight and strained
You talk to her
She talks to you
She wants to dance
What will you do?
You look at me
I look back
Your face is dark
Almost black
I don’t know what to say
The music blares
In the shadows
The truth glares
You walk outside
You want relief
Kill the pain
It’s your belief
A flash of silver
You grab the blade
The white light shines
On the marks you’ve made
There’s so much pain
You keep inside
Too much pain
To even hide
You’re all alone
No one cares
All the words
All the stares
They don’t understand
She tries to cheer you
Whey don’t get itm
Not like I do
You want them to understand
So do i
We don’t want them to go
To say goodbye
We understand
But we don’t know yet
We understand things
Others just don’t get
With your friends
You put up a show
They can’t tell
But I know
The hill stands
Black in it’s sorrow
The sun sets
Waiting for tomorrow
There w Bella MuerteBella Muerte
Bella muerte
Beautiful death
You say these words
With your last breath
A sigh of wind
A gasp of air
You can’t see the sun
Through your hair
Fell the silk
Hear the static
Hang yourself
In the attic
See the darkness
All around
On your knees
On the ground
Fear
It haunts you
Death
It taunts you
Just out of reach
You cry
In the blackness
You die
A solemn tear
Runs down you face
Soon the blood takes its place
Silently you lie
Broken
You’ve always been
Outspoken
Fear it haunts you
Death
It taunts you
Just out of reach
You cry
In the blackness
You die :thumb132185629::thumb114688965::thumb112133273::thumb112169286: :thumb130941764::thumb103940344::thumb106970025: :thumb131285600: BrokenBroken,
Flying,
Fleeing,
Frieing,
Forever dieing,
seeing,
sighing.
Communistic,
ritualistic,
Fucking trying. Fake diamondsHallowed-out shells
of crystiline dreams,
shining aspirations,
never to be seen.
Pain,
poured into it's emptyness.
See through masks
can't cover your war.
The Real Gold Diamonds,
asphixiated by the rest,
smothered and killed by
shear will of this whole mess.
Fake diamonds will take
their new place at the throne.
"Bury the rest."
"Bury the gold."
As the hole deepens,
widens and shakes,
the Fake diamonds cheer,
take pleasure in their pain.
The Real Gold Diamonds,
buried and shamed. no namequiet.
unconserned.
undecided.
non-deservered.
no top hat.
no fancy coat.
underapericated.
over-looked.
empty-feelings.
gray-black acquantince.
unknown.
un-named. Letters To My Baby BrotherDear Baby Brother,
You don’t know me but
I'm your older sister.
I wish that we could have had time
To get to know each other,
But I guess that will have to wait until later.  
Love,
Gina
Dear Baby Brother,
Can I call you Paul?
As in, short for Apollo, god of the sun.
You would like that, I think,
Because the sun is a star too,
Even though they seem so different.
I remember the time that Mommy taught me that.
I was so amazed.
I hope you will find the same joy in learning such things.
Love,
Gina
Dear Paul,
If you were here,
I would draw you a dinosaur.
We could name it Arthur or Charlie or Max  
And dance with him in our kitchen while listening to Mozart
Because Mommy says Mozart makes babies smart
But if you didn’t like it,
We could listen to music by Iron & Wine and it would be our secret.
Love,
Gina
PS: I won’t mind if you borrow my CD’s
Dear Paul,
I bought a bouquet of baby’s breath for you
And Mom cried when she saw it.
Daddy threw it in :thumb140677986::thumb137034966::thumb142657726: :thumb125648172: .esrever ni kcutsdear love,if you're reading this,
then you're still alive. whether
that be a good or bad thing,
you mean the world to me.
dear love,i know you don't understand
my strange obsession with
writing things down, but
that doesn't matter anymore.
dear love,there's something
about the way you
breathe that makes me
love you even more.
dear love,my reason is you.
dear love,i'm always scared
when you pop up your veins.
what happens when they
explode across the walls?
dear love,every fall that spark
comes back with a whole
new meaning. and i think
i love you all over again.
dear love,please just tell me
i'm worth it.
because we both know
i will be at some point.
dear love,i kiss the blood off
your face because i
secretly know i was the one
that had put it there.
dear love,i try my best.
dear love,there's nothing to fix
when everything left behind
is complete perfection.
dear love,is there such thing as
too-in-love-to-let- my name?my name is
alyssa, and maybe it means
count your fingers or
hold back wishes. maybe it is
holding on to things
that just want to be let go
or letting out false
"i love you"-s.
maybe it means
we'll get out of here,
someday or maybe
it is the taste of metal lips
pressing together
or maybe it is the sight of
two young children falling
deep in love; the love that
never ends.
maybe 'alyssa' is a synonym
for a-little-too-careful
and 'rational' even though
that can't be it at all.
maybe it's the feeling of
salt water in your eyes,
burning away any insecurities
yet bringing them back
again.
or maybe my name is just
alyssa
and maybe it only meansnothing.:thumb120303298::thumb113856728: :thumb142836599: :thumb127235206::thumb138410568::thumb128301143::thumb126984087: Shattered Reprieve -text-At the start of things
There is hope
You say, there is light
In me
Nothing but each new moment, life
And you tell me
"Real love is forever;
Sunshine is a glimpse of the future"
Then you stumble, like a robber in the dark
Finding that I
Am not like most things
You've stolen before
In your haste to right the wrongs
Which Lie
As demons in the cold depths
Of your retribution
You are drawn to them
Their contrast
Something subliminal
As though the beating in your chest
Is a distraction
For surely
It does not belong there, in the shadows of glories past
You search for their Name, their loyalty
And find, only my disdain
And you see it written
Like so many broken windows piercing your eyes
With shards of hazy reflection
Flinging themselves at your stone exterior
Crying for recompense
Eyes that see beauty
In fleeting moments and momentary reprieves
And they
Don't seem to move at all
Staring
Untouched by everything
Another broken promise tearing your chest
Breaking through
The pleasant emptiness :thumb142793886: The DifferenceAnd the angels cry out against their foes,
warcries piercing through the glorious air.
And the wrath descends upon the unwanted.
But the angels stop the madness before it comes around to kill.
They scoop up the evil injured and nurture the soul of the hated.
Showing the way to the path of beloved,
the mortals will never stray, because the angels
hold the hand of the children of God.
This is the difference between mortals and the heavenly bodies. :thumb136512687:

~~


Some absolutely amazing, unique, creative, wonderful, inspiring works of art done by some absolutely amazing, unique, creative, wonderful, inspiring people.

Please take some time to look at the different works. And if you or someone you think deserves to be included tell me and I'll keep updating it for as long as I can.


LOVE YOU, bye!

♥