| I can write pretty things but it seems so out-of-character. |


SUPER KAWAII YAOI DESUthis morning i watched the news and this guy with messy hair and a tie said that they found like three corpses behind a dumpster on fifth avenue. he said they'd been strangled. they were all women so i bet they were prostitutes. nobody cares where prostitutes go, that's why sometimes after they suck me off i smash in their skulls with a piece of pipe or something. but the bodies they found on fifth avenue behind a dumpster weren't my work, trust me. i'm not stupid enough to get caught.SUPER KAWAII YAOI DESU
it's five in the evening and it's really cold outside, but i'm out walking along some jazzy boulevard with a lot of flashing lights and christmas


Autobiography of a stari was bornAutobiography of a star
in a violent nursery of kaleidoscope clouds and lightning storms, born alone with static fizzling on my tongue. for a long time i dozed in a hammock of stars, waiting for the clock to start ticking, waiting for the curtains to open up and the show to begin.
now i spend my evenings curled up in high-rise window sills, writing love letters to the moon. at midnight the universe flares into existence like an illegal firework and i fold messages into empty beer cans and toss them from the roof. i do my best to aim for the sky but somehow my notes always end up frightening tattered pigeons on the sidewalk below or getting c


if we loved like planesif your ribs were a xylophone i think of myself running my hands along the skin i have never seen and tapping each one i imagine i could feel your ribs beneath the paper-pale shell that i would love if i could know it. your eyes would be traffic lights, green yes yellow maybe red no, and i would understand and proceed as indicated and maybe you would smile like sunlight on the highway.if we loved like planes
if you opened your mouth it would be a dial tone and your laugh would be the popping barks of instant messages. i would want you to be wild and strange like i know you are but when i watch you move the tendons are roads
but your not ugly.
your tears aren't worth your looks.
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Aoi: Don't tell me it's that freak, Miyavi?
Join my Club:[link]
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"Why are you yelling? Is yelling designed to scare me? Because I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to be scared of. More yelling? That's not scary. That you're going to hurt me, that's scary, but I'm sure I can outrun you." Cuddy to House
work is sapping my brains.
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"Why are you yelling? Is yelling designed to scare me? Because I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to be scared of. More yelling? That's not scary. That you're going to hurt me, that's scary, but I'm sure I can outrun you." Cuddy to House
I'm gettin' there.
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"Why are you yelling? Is yelling designed to scare me? Because I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to be scared of. More yelling? That's not scary. That you're going to hurt me, that's scary, but I'm sure I can outrun you." Cuddy to House
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Poetry Admin for =DailyLitDeviations
Send me suggestions.
... <3?
I will now be able to tell you apart from the other icon-less people (because I never read the names next to posts.) HUZZAH, HAPPY DAY!
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Sir Warrick: I know him. And I think he's a psychotic low-life.
Mal: And I think calling him that is an insult to the psychotic low-life community.
I think it suits me rather well, being a telephone pole and all.
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