Don't use w/out permit
The Ghosts of Our Choosing
Sheila had always lived her life helping no one but herself. She strove to etch her legacy into history. It was her way of becoming immortal.
She looked up from her desk, piled high with financial charts and business proposals. A spirit began to take rough form before her.
“What do you want from me?” She managed to choke out the words.
“I beg you to stop.”
“Why must I stop my life's work?”
“Because you are only considering this life.”
The image of the spirit now became clear. It was herself, twisted in such a state of complete agony.
Fade.Roses aren't red,
violets aren't blue
your dread's back from the dead
and no one's there but you
ink drips off the rose petals
and bleed down through the thorns
the dye slips into splits in the violets
they don't want to be here anymore
you're down on your knees
for those promises you call dreams
you've seen the up sides of down
the down sides of up
and everything between
and you still don't know what to do
when the violets become red
and the roses turn blue.
I initially meant to do either Toki or Doki but she came to me, so I did this piece of her. Might do a pic a of her sister or someone else but, anywho, this is her.
Did this with pencil, watercolor, gouache, paintbrush, markers, illustration markers pencil, colored pencil, and gel pen.
All Her Little ThingsStop hating her for the littlest things.
The things she can't prevent,
The things she can't save herself from..
Stop demanding her to do things,
Things she can't accomplish,
Things she can't imagine being done...
Stop lying to her,
Telling her you love her,
Want her, need her...
When all you've ever done is make her want to
Stop hating her for the littlest things.
The things she can't prevent,
The things she can't save herself from...
When those little things you've done
Take her down...
The little things won't matter anymore.
Mama's EyesShe said to her daughter,
And her little girl
No longer little
Looked up in her mama's eyes,
And Mama thought nothing of it,
Till her little girl
No longer little
Never looked up in her mama's eyes
Eulogy for a Rape VictimSanctified by cried teardrops
Spilling down blushing cheeks.
The baptism, meanwhile, went on and on and on and on and on and on
Until I couldn't tell what was wrong.
In light and in shade,
And take long strides amidst the fallen dew-dipped leaves
That dripped onto the grass;
The air which they cleaved, so simply, was a fair lass.
So much time has passed and advanced in such a way
To make short days last
Unforgivable weight on her back.
I burdened her with concrete cracks that I expected her to fix.
She was meant to fill up what I lack.
I asked too much.
I was the one
Who should not have drank from the golden flask,
Who should not have dawned my Glory's mask,
Who should not have gave up on my belief in her
For a fact.
Life was supposed to be much easier than all of this
Like that fallen leaf's trip to the ground when, from a stable branch
I can say only this:
I apologize for what I've done to you with my lips
And I'm sorry for your ach
stained grassI used to wonder about the grass and how it clung to your clothes, marking them green with envy. It left a quiet trace of something so alive on the shell of someone who had forgotten how to be a part of the living. The grass, like clay, would mold around your body, only the imprint of a boy remaining. It would keep that way for days and I often question whether that was Mother Nature's way of giving you a place to call home; a place you could slip into and hide away.
I asked you if I could hold your hand while you waged wars with the hole in your heart, the deep pocket that would never be filled. You held on as long as you could, keeping me up on nights I really should have been sleeping, and I clung to every piece of you my fingers could carry. I knew I should let you fold yourself into the pocket of your heart, but I always thought I could find a place in mine. I had enough room, but you just wouldn't fit comfortably, like the chair we tried fitting in the trunk of the car
I don't have various things to say, except I love animals, especially butterflies and foxes. I was scared of spiders but over came my fear . I want to travel the world and explore new things. I'd love to write stories and read, also draw but I mostly do that for fun. I'm an Aspie, which is someone with Aspergers. I'm also a loner with odd interests. I can be hissy and perhaps spiteful if angered, depending on how you made me angry however. I also don't like it when someone messes with my friends, SO DON'T DO THAT! THAT'S ONE OF THE THINGS THAT MAKES ME ANGRY! I don't like being angry. Usually, I'm sweet and nice and a little shy but extremely freindly. I'm also a free spirit, AND NOTHING CAN TAKE AWAY MY FREE WILL