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My Worst Enemy.She's staring me down.
I can't look away.
Her eyes are cold, criticizing.
I shrink under her gaze.
My heart races faster by the second,
Yet she never notices.
Her eyes trail over every inch of my body,
Analyzing every little detail.
I shiver, seeing the look of disgust on her face.
She looks into my eyes again,
and I struggle to breathe.
"You're disgusting," she says, her voice like acid.
"You don't deserve to live."
I can't fight her."You look horrible. You're not even human anymore."
I nodded again, holding back tears.
She smirked, laughing humourlessly.
"Go ahead- cry. I don't care. I'm concerned about your appearance, not your mental and emotional state."
I choked back a sob, trying not to succumb to her words.
"...You're pathetic. A waste of space. An annoyance that no one wants to live with."
A single tear rolled down my cheek silently,
And then another,
Until I was crying my eyes out,
My body shaking with each loud sob th
No way outI lay across his bed
The blade parallel to my wrist
I could see my veins
The deep blue contrasting with my pale skin
I realized how easy it would be
Just a little more pressure going in the wrong direction
I wondered how something as complicated as life
Could be ended so simply
FakeDo you see the girl in the center of the room?
Her eyes sparkle and reflect the joy
Of being with her friends.
She moves with the easy grace of a person
With not a single trouble.
Her long, flowing hair
Is like chocolate brown silk,
Shining, without a strand out of place.
She is the closest being to perfection possible.
Yet she is fake.
Do you notice the girl in the shadows?
Her sad and lonely eyes betray her wisdom,
Which is far beyond her years.
She stands in the darkness,
Watching the movements of those around her.
Her short jet black hair is sleek and glistening.
She is not perfect though.
They call her Emo.
She has seen things
That would make others shudder and weep.
She knows things
That would make them tremble where they stand.
The other girl is perfect. But this girl is real.
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More