deviantART 11th bdAy Countdown!
Today's Feature was selected by the following deviants:
EAT-MY-PAINTINGS, Sailor-Pikmin, and TimberClipse
Is It Love?If I hugged you,
would you never let go?
If I kissed you,
would you cherish that moment?
If I reached for your hand,
would you take mine gently?
If I needed a shoulder,
would you let me cry on yours?
If I needed to talk,
would you really listen?
If I needed to scream,
would you do it with me?
If I needed to go,
would you come with me?
If I fell for you,
would you catch me?
or just let me hit the pavement?
Living in the LightYou make my tummy feel light; like spring-time and somersaults. Like the breath of wind tangling in your hair and unusual smile is curved on your lips. I know it's silly but you're a silly guy, and it's easy that way. Just being more careless than carefree, to spend less time knowing than not. but the way you talk is nice and your laughter is nicer.
Like a tunnel bellow water; it's a lot like watching a world through a snow globe; or in the gentle sparkle of snow drops and rain flakes and falling into cushions that are more cloud-like than cotton against your skin. It's like living on prayers because suddenly I've found myself to be quite religious. it's feeling like part of myself has turned to mush and most of me is focused on re-assembling cell types and restraint while the rest watches other parts crumble slowly downward. It's funny; when it feels good for some of you to fall apart.
Courage Is No Good - Prologue.I once read a poem that taught me that death was nothing to be feared.
In a way, it's almost the strangest thing about all this; that I can remember that particular poem so vividly. Everything else in my life has become a hazy blur, time-lines merged together in a swirl of fear and panic. And yet, something as simple as a verse remains. Like my mind was wiped over with a damp cloth, but the words were scratched into the surface. A warning that was always there, just hidden by the intangible mess on top of it. Kinda apt, really.
Of course, it's been a long time since I've read something that wasn't in my own handwriting. In my current position, I can hardly afford to be picky about my reading materials. In fact, I've learnt more than anything in the three months since it all started that being selective is going to get you killed. The slow and messy sort of killed.
Here's my point; if you're reading this now, one of two things has happened. The first, I've been rescued by an imaginary g
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