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Soul Burn: Bruised Amanda paced back and forth beside the brick courtyard wall. Her chest heaved, her hair was torn from its usual ponytail, and her clothes were scuffed with dirt. She pressed a piece of cloth tightly against the cut below her eye, a faint trail of pink staining the rest of her cheek. Her face contorted in a sneer against the pain.
Amanda whirled around to face the shadow standing behind her. "I- No, I didn't mean-"
"I'm used to being addressed that way." He gave a small chuckle. "Although hearing it from you is new."
All these months after joining their company, Garrett's voice creaked out of his throat as if he were still unused to talking. But his presence no longer made her feel threatened. In fact, she enjoyed his quiet demeanor. "I apologize. I was angry and... well, talking to myself."
"Does that happen often?" Garrett inched forward, glancing at the b
Soul Burn: Last Moments The bed hardly made a sound as she laid Garrett down atop the mattress. His paper thin body floated, while her weight created valleys as she lowered herself down beside him. Their bedroom was silent, the air heavy; she could hear the rattling in his lungs with each breath he drew in.
"I'm not oblivious, Garrett. I knew that as soon as F'neir died your body would begin to deteriorate." Amanda reached up and cradled his face against her palm, her thumb stroking his cheek. "I just hoped the process would take time, a lot of time.
Garrett snorted. "Hey, get that sad look off your face. I could still kick someone's ass if I wanted to."
Amanda wrapped her arm around his chest. His ribs visibly pushed against his skin and scar tissue. She pulled herself into him, her lips fluttering down just below his collar bone. "Shush. You need to rest."
Soul Burn: Death Amanda sat surrounded by a tableful of councilmen and traveling ambassadors. The only familiar face in the crowd was Logan, simultaneously conducting this meeting while watching over her. Her black clothes matched the bruises under her eyes. She cradled her face against the palms of her hands, hair falling limp against her cheeks. She didn't want to deal with this right now; their arrogant words, their pitying looks cast down upon her, their plans on what to do with him. Him. Just the thought of his name made tears spring up behind her eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them well over.
"Well, he may have been a hero, but he didn't exactly have a clean history."
"...can't believe their going to build a memorial in his name."
"Ah, he's just a corpse now. Dead bodies don't deserve much-"
Amanda slammed her fist against the tab
Soul Burn: Choked "What were you fools thinking? Protecting women! Hah!" Laughter rolled out of this bastard, his chest shook with it. "Women aren't worth anything. Certainly not your lives."
Amanda turned her head to view the damage he had inflicted on her teammates. Garrett and Logan sprawled out in the dirt on the floor of this cave. Both were covered in their own blood and barely hanging on to consciousness. Gods damn it! I've lost track of Naz. This was not a situation she wanted to be in; two friends on the brink of death, one missing, and she herself looking this murderer in the eye.
Please Naz, please be alright. I'm going to need your help. Amanda forced herself up off the ground, gritting her teeth. She was covered head to toe in bruises and cuts. Her muscles began to spasm, voicing their objection to her slow, labored movement. She barely had any strength left. But you have to do this. Y
Soul Burn: Observation Amanda stood in the shade cast by the northern wall the Academy’s emerald green courtyard, watching the younger students practice today’s lesson in physical attacks. She was stationed here not only to instruct and correct mistakes, but also to provide medical care. Just in case things got out of hand. Students were paired together based on their opposition in strengths; they differed in everything from physical size, aptitude, and personality.
“The goal of today’s lesson is for you to incapacitate your partner while inflicting a minimal amount of damage. You’ve trained alongside each other for years; you know their strengths and their weaknesses. Out think them, and take them down,” she paused, slowly sliding her worn brown leather gloves from her hands. “Go.”
Some students dived into their fights, others stood still and assessed their partners. Aman
Morphological Bairn glared piercingly at the woman across from him. She winked back, the color of her hair slowly shifting from red to brown. Her eyes shone a brighter blue. Her skeletal structure melted and reformed under her face.
She was toying with him.
First impressions don’t matter much anymore, but he already didn’t like her. In one fluid motion she stepped forward, turned, and let her shoulders rest against the wall. The brick scratched against the fabric of her clothes, which were-
Nope, he didn’t care. Not one bit. Especially not with her willingly flaunting herself like this in public. She leaned into him, whispering, like a child sharing a secret with a friend.
“Come on, big guy. Loosen up a little.” She rolled her shoulder into him. “Play a little game with me.”
Gonei am woken up
from dreams of you
burnt brain matter
in the hollow of my
thump, thump, thumping
goes my heart
my pulse snaking
venom through my veins now
blackening my skin where
bruises blossom and bloom have
taken up residence un
Lock and Keyi keep an image of you,
you know, caged inside my head
he talks to me wonderfully,
and oh, how he smiles
but his eyes are dead.
it may be high time for me
to hand you the key
Young LoveI was so young
when I first heard
the beats of my heart
pulse lightly upon my ribcage
My toothpick bones,
to the powerful palpitations
And I was still young
when I heard again
the throbs of my heart
pound forcefully upon my ribcage
My metal bar bones,
to the butterfly-wing beats
So you better hurry, boy
as my ribs are becoming
thick as steel
and you’ll soon need a metal cutter
to reach my heart
(And I don’t want to become damaged in the process of being loved).
how to love a girl who can't love herself.get lost under the sun, then
fight the break of dawn.
i am nothing in the dark,
so show me
walk with me,
to the secret place
where i met you
(those turquoise city dreams)
when the sun goes down,
when the moon shines,
(girl of the ocean, let's go
somewhere only we know.)
please, i beg you.
winter me gently, because the earth laughs in flowers, and
red red roses, they're so beautifully
from the back of my throat, i promisethe world is made of talking trees and cloudy water,
and the way you look at me
i'm no artist but i think i've painted your voice at the base of my neck
it's not something you can come back from
and tomorrow won't be a victory any more than it will be a loss
they don't make maps for a place like thisI'm stuck somewhere
between great rollings hills
and a sweet-calm sea,
but the air doesn't smell
of salt or dandelions.
Only this heavy
cloying breeze that sticks
in my throat and fills
my lungs with the sharp tang
of musk and pine
reminds me that I'm
not far from home. And
in the distance there
is a rolling clamor;
a whistle crying long and low.
But there are no signs,
Though I've wandered days
through this strange
traipsing across smooth plains
and sharp plateaus, I've
never crossed the
same path twice...
One thought rings true in
this foreign land:
dear, don't be alarmed
I only lose my bearings so thoroughly,
only become so
What Shall He Be?Oh what shall he be - the one to steal my heart?
Many a man is there in this vast world,
But what sort should I desire?
My sisters have oft said to see him in my thoughts.
To know him there and appease my dreams.
I am slow to act, for what reality could compare to a woman's dream?
But, alas, I do believe
That even I find myself dreaming of him now and again.
And so you ask, what sort of man is he?
Well listen close, for here I shall tell of what sort he would be:
He should be tall and graceful, elegant and fair;
With sweet golden locks of his curly hair.
And have blue eyes that sparkle in the light
Of the sun, bright, as does his smile shine.
His tender words and gentle touch
Would so sooth my heart and troubled mind.
His strong arms would hold me fast in the darkest nights
And chase away my fears 'til dawn.
His sweet lips would kiss me tenderly, lovingly just so.
He would have a heart of pure gold, and be loyal and good.
And looking into his eyes, he would see my soul
And I, giving my
to hell with goodwill (que sera sera)his tale-weaving tongue
tastes of crisp linen
drenched in bergamot
locked in by lips
of brown sugar that bubble
a blueberry melody
on his siren songs
drunken on an unearthly state
i drown my earl grey eyes
refusing to abandon the atrocity
that is his bedspread
his vesuvius temper
keep me on the verge of tears
on the ledge of limitations
i know all too well
i can never repel his touch
his gaze glazes over my beehive body
and i break open
raw and wild
sucking on the saccharine serendipity
of seeing this scene
in some long lost dream
his lambent limbs
though scathingly swollen
spread far and wide
such is my
i am peeled
past my quivering
he polishes and pencils
past my profanities
his life oeuvre is
to have me obliterated
come what may
the desolation of this delusion
will one day leave me
to inferno with goodw
Sleeping VolcanoWhen you kiss me
thousand little needles
pierce my skin
delight and pain
both burning calmly
like sleeping volcano
slowly consumed by
heat and fire
and I bleed
poison and nectar
embraced by your need
and even if
we grow distant and old
fire burns out and lava turns to stone
my blood keeps
screaming for your lips
I won't forgetI will always remember
you quietly waiting in the corridors
and opening doors for me to pass through
you drifting in and out of office spaces
and as we walked with matching paces
your smile would quietly etch itself into my memories
of what we were when we were not together.
I will always remember the feelings I wanted to forget
as I walked the limits of darkness every night,
my loneliness like a silhouette
that knew no respite
from the resounding cries
of the kookaburras in the trees
weeping for the heart that wanted to be free
to be with the you
who could not be with me.
I will always remember the voice inside my head
uttering a love that could not be said
across the oceans and the miles
that stretched like a chasm before us
but it was never a distance we did not surmount--
each night a transgression of space and time,
a compression of our imaginations and our minds.
I will never forget these slivers of a past
that used to haunt us with the pain of our non-existence
in a reality we'd
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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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