Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2014 calion
Emily
Asexual
 Feb 2014 calion
Emily
Asexuality
Being attracted to no one
Having no *** drive
They say it can stem
From confusion
Who do I want
A boy
Or a girl
Or both
I don't know
But I just wish
I could have ***
The mental blocks
They hold me back
And I'm just here
By myself
Someone so selfish tried to argue with me about my feelings and who I'm attracted to. Thought they knew everything about what's inside of my heart and my mind. Seriously irked me. I just wrote this quickly.

© Peyton 2013
 Feb 2014 calion
Kagami
-Year fifteen.

Normal girl, tall and slender. Bright eyes and developing body.
But her hands, oh... Her hands were sculpted by something else. Beautiful bones,
Long, pink nails and the skin on her palm smoother than silk.
The veins show a dull peppermint on her snowy skin.
Her thin wrist and delicate movements.

She cracks her knuckles so her sharp joints will show more.


-Year twenty three.

The life she lived previous was pressured by the pollution in the air. ****,
Drugs, and alcohol. She slouches and shivers on a warm summer day,
Huddled in a corner of her house.

Her hands show no more snow. The veins seem shriveled.
Her joints were swollen and unmovable.
Her palms are coarse from rubbing them together and her nails...
Oh, her nails were ****** and torn off. She clawed too much at her neck
As she was held down and suffocated.


-Year twenty four.

*"I am sorry." The note read.

It was a deformed hand. Bite marks on her fingertips, shriveled skin with blotches and sores.
The veins drawn over in pink scars from jagged blades and old attempts.
It was a miracle she could write at all.

She now lays in an open casket. Eyes stare at her contrasted beauty.
Her childhood friend had always loved her hands. He reconstructed them.
A shriveled old body, only twenty four years old, but seemingly ancient.

But her hands, oh... Her hands were sculpted by someone who truly loved her.
Beautiful bones,
Long and pink plastic nails. The skin on her palm made of silk.
The veins are drawn with a dull peppermint pastel on her falsely snowy skin.

He cracked her fingers so her prosthetic joints will move less.
We were told to describe a timeline of either hands or hair of a character in a class today. Since I am not a student yet and had no previous material, this is what I came up with.
 Feb 2014 calion
E. E. Cummings
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new
 Feb 2014 calion
Bird
Elephant Tree
 Feb 2014 calion
Bird
The green leaves
The turning autumn leaves
The branches barren from leaves

The strong dark bark
Initials and hearts with promises
carved into its thick skin.
The perfect curve of the branch,
bending but never breaking.
Taking our weight as we climb, sit, and bounce
Constantly testing its strength.

The passing cars
oblivious to the tree
hidden by rocks and neighboring branches.
Safeguarded by the promise of a tourist’s ignorant and focused eye.

The quiet rustle of a hunting coyote
The sweet melody of a Spring Robin
and the answer of a nesting squirrel.

The worn and weathered marble table.
The rusted water fountain that fails with each attempt.
I wonder who ever drank
from its bronze spout
in the woods.

On inhale:
the crisp, fresh air
and scent of miles of blooming apple trees.

Trusted family and friends
discovering a place
old and dear to me.
Next page