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I Can't Feel AnymoreI'm sorry
I cannot cry
Neither can I laugh
I can't feel anymore
No, I can't
My emotions are gone
As are my feelings
I don't have any anymore
I can see that you are fretting and your eyes are in tears
Let this be known
I feel neither joy nor sadness at my situation
I wanted it this way
I wanted to cast aside those very things
They were no longer needed
And had brought much upset
I'm no more than an empty shell
A shell of what once was
A shell with empty eyes
A shell that feels cold
This is a prefered existance
All in all, I can't feel anymore
And, I never will
Killerbunnies VI: Computer Virus
eMail I: Hello
Oh, hi, my n4m3 1s Compu+3r Virus and 1'm 4 script kiddie. My r3al name 1s C4ss4ndr4 V4n3ss4 but, 3h, th4t sounds pr3++y ho1+y-+o1+y s0 c4ll m3 C0mpu+er V1rus because 1t's awes0me 4nd c00l 4nd I'm 4 c0mput3r v1ruZ. 1 also lik3 +o type 1n hacker, lik3 1 am d0ing now 4nd I hacked a compu+3r so 1 can do th1Z. How'd you l1k3 1t, b1+cheZ? Anyway, I h4ve 4 s+ory to tell. Jus+ +o be clear and no h4rd f33ling and p3rh4pZ fr33 acc3sZ t0 +he compu+ers, 1 like +0+4lly wanna join y0ur sup3r c00l organ1za+1on, s0, 4ft0R th1Z h0R3 em4il, resp0nd when you g3t +he ch4nce, alr1gh+?
Anyway, I am s3v3n+33n ye4rs 0ld and is b4sic4lly a cyborg, 'c4use 1 hav3 a pr3++y red 3y3 and j4ck 1n my h3ad. Als0, I have +h3s3 sc4rs on my face 4nd junk and 1 g0t those fr0m a figh+ wi+h 4 secur1ty gu4rd for hacking 1nto +h3 secur1+y sys+em and +h3 0+h3r on3, the Y-shaped on3, I got fr0m my 8th cous1n ov3r hack1ng his compu+er 4nd infecting it wi+h virus. Anyway, that w4s my s+ory 4nd I wanna j01n y
Killerbunnies V: Malou's Story
Hallo, Ik heet Malou Omdehuidvaniemand or Malou Voordehuid, whichever. I was born in Drenthe, in the province of Assen. I am four years old. I like to use my cinderblock tied to a chain and my knife. The world is awful and I'm awful, too. I like it when I'm awful and I am awful all the time! It's fun being awful but not everyone seems to think so. It's okay, I'll bring them around and then they'll like being awful, too. Everyone will be awful! Everyone!
I used to live on a farm with cows and stuff and then it was on fire because there was a "BOOM!" No more farm, so I am alone and awful. I made the farm go boom because, uh, there was a pipe with some brownie stuff coming out of it. It tastes yucky but I tasted it anyway, then I lit a match and put it in and then BOOM! Can't go back to Drenthe because of the cinderblock thing. Oh, poo! I just wanted to play. Oh, well, I'll someone who'll play with me.
Ooooh, I got mail!
waiting so long
something near nescapable
all of the pain and hardships
the illnesses that overtook her
Almost resulting in a premature death
She fell ill from the poison of radiation,
dying while waiting for nonexistent emergency services
An illness she was too sick to recover from
the mother that cannot so easily reach her child
because she had no choice
From wounds that fester
From wounds that cannot heal
From broken hearts and damaged souls
She emptied a gun into a wall of mirrors
A rage against the horrible things done to her
The winter was even warmer than she
She wanted to die
Her immortality was overrode
Something she's attempted when she's gone mad
They were to be broken
For some it worked
Troubles never seemed to end
It was a near never-ending cycle
They were gone but not forgotten
Their spirits stil
Killerbunnies IV: Atlasnaya Molotov
Zdravstvuyte, the name I possess is Atlasnaya Molotov and I was born in Siberia, to dreaded parents. They were Stalinist, yes, but they were on the wrong side of Stalinism, the sort that lead the Soviet Union to collapse. When I was but seven years old, I was sold to the Bratfa, er, Russkaya Mafya. Through hellish training, I was taught to be who I am now and I have no regrets. None. I had later lost my hand and leg in an accident and had one of my eyes sewn shut. After some time, I had decided to Bratfa has gone soft, so I burned their headquarters to the ground and left for America. I roamed around in this place called "Vermont", burning down houses with Molotov cocktails and causing harm with a whip. If I didn't get what I asked, I was quick to retaliate. Don't judge, it can't be helped.
This is the fate that I can escape and neither do I wish to. After destroying the city of "Montpelier", I found a letter stuffed in my pocket. It was written in my native language
Killerbunnies III: The Spread of Darkness and Raze
Well, this sucks. I am sitting in a waiting room with my parents and grandma for lighting my Dad's car on fire. I don't really know why I set the car on fire besides the fact that I was told to. I am sitting in the waiting room to see this kind of person called a psychiatrist, whatever the hell that is. I don't wanna be here but they say I have to be. Damn, damn, damn! Why'd the hell did it have to be so quiet, why?! I don't like this and they're getting louder and louder. I wish I could make them stop but I can't and they will be getting louder. I feel a darkness and, soon, we'll all be consumed by it. I see it creeping, trying to get me, and I cannot resist it.
I am sitting in the silent white room, slowly being crept into by the darkness. I feel those blackened demon hands coming to get me. I didn't put up a fight because they were coming to get us all. I don't really remember what happened earlier and neither can I. All I remember is the darkness and the phsychiatrist's offic
Killerbunnies II: Creamline Rogue
January 30th, 2015 Detroit Michigan
HEADLINE: MAN STATES HE WAS ATTACKED BY AN EIGHT YEAR OLD GIRL
Man from Detroit, Michigan, who asked to remain anonymous, states he was attacked by a girl about eight years of age. He states the assailant was wielding some kind of electrical weapon and he refuses to say more about her. Currently, he has since moved away and refuses to expose his current whereabouts. So far, the authorities have managed to make a connections between this and several other incidents across Detroit....
"Dear Detroit City Police Department,
If you are smart, then you won't try to find me and you won't. No one ever does, no one, so you won't. I hope you are having fun at this game because I am. I like this game and I want to play it foreverity-ever! Well, I have to go now, byeeeee! Remember, you cannot find me.
Hello there, my is Creamline Rogue and I am from Detroit. I play games in the Detroit. It's fun! Right now, I am writing another
Killerbunnies I: Snow Fl.
She started out a normal child, be it with genius level intelligence and was soon thrust into a world of violence. She is only two years old and she was already ruthless and corrupted. She's learned her way to survive. With a scar on her face and pacifier in her mouth, she was there on known as Snow Fl and I am her. I vowed I would make this world pay for what has been done and what cannot be reversed. Nay shall I pitied. I survived.
It all started when my parents were killed by an intruder and left a scar down my face. I was treated and taken in by a backalley doctor, who would teach me the ways of this ugly and horrible world. There was no going back now. I was taught to make weapons and was worked to the bone producing them. Day after each grueling day, I was to build guns and all other weapons. Should I fail in performing the task correctly or failing to perform, I have earned beatings and denied food. After some time, I fought back, mortally injuring the one who took me in. I had
There is tree
It is very pretty tree
On a hill
One side is dismal and looks dead
The other side seems to be fairly pleasant
There is a reason why
On one side, we have a woman hanging
She had recently gone insane and opted to end her life
She would fail at this
On the other side, is a girl swinging on a swing
She is from a time of innocence and happiness, long before now
She and the woman are the same
The little girl from a time the woman seemed so interested in forgetting
Or, rather, seemed so interested in wanting nothing more to regain
She could really do neither
Yet, the little girl never knew this</b> would become of her
Her life before contrasted so differently from her life in the future
It is hard believing such an innocent girl would become a suicidal mentally ill wreck
I wonder could our past and future be any more different?
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
Twas Silence That BetrayedKeeping secrets will prove to be full of misfortune
Being a secret-keeper betrays
Twas silence that betrayed the friendship
Twas silence that strained it
When it comes to keeping horrific secrets
Ones that are meant to be told
Silence is the enemy
The person’s silence betrayed them
Because, of that silence, irreversible damage was done
Silence hid the truth and it cost them dearly
Twas silence that betrayed them
Twas silence that brought the shame
Twas silenced that concealed the truth
Twas silence that costed them dearly
If only that silence were broken, then the great shame would lift
And, the truth would be out
If the truth were out, the person would be free
But, no, cowardice gave rise to silence
If only it hadn’t, but brought a cycle
A cycle of shame and lies is what it brought
Twas silence that betrayed them
Only when the silence is broken, the cycle of shame and lies will end and the truth will set them free
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More