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Lonesome FigureThe first thing I feel is the lining of my right sock gently caressing my tired toes. The cushion beneath it slowly compresses as my sneakers wrap tightly around my foot, the soft cloth bending and folding into an intricate origami. I begin to feel pebbles take their shape through the thick foam and plastic, slowly pressing against my sole as a masseuse might. Something creaks beneath these stones, the hard dead cells of wooden planks slowly being crushed beneath my weight. The ground’s support slowly reaches up my leg, my knee locking into place and my hip coming to a temporary rest.
This happens all over again, but this time with my left leg. One wooden plank after another, slowly traversing this bridge on the cold hard dirt. The light angels dance among the treetops, making their passage across the sky at a pace only one truly at peace would be able to perceive. A faint sound rumbles through my skin, but I care not. Trifles such as this don’t matter in the world of chaos
The Borrower Arrietty 2 - Chapter 20 (Finale)It had been a week since Arrietty began her intensive-care period with Aerite. Though each day grew more forlorn, Sho knew that saving her life was probably the better option than to satisfy his selfish needs. Besides, Spiller’s words reverberated within his hollow mind, the surges of guilt coursing throughout his veins every time he thought of the little borrower girl. Why did fate have to do this? Why did fate have to match them together, only to tear them apart?
Jane could only offer so much consolation before she began to grow tired of the same ol’ story of ‘I love her’ and ‘I want her’. Sho’s tie with Arrietty was special, indeed, but if he never learned to let go, chances were that Arrietty would never be able to return to normal. In any case, neither Jane nor Sho knew what ‘normal’ was anymore. To put it thoughtlessly, having borrowers in their lives had turned their world upside-down. Perhaps they were as much a nuisance as
Life in Beacon - A RWBY Fanfiction - Chapter 01
The events that occur in this story are considered day-in-the-life, therefore do not necessarily have a fixed interval or date. Some will weave in and out of the realms of canon, following some episodes closely, while others may fill in the gaps or be completely unrelated. The deviation description often will give you a good idea of the time that the story arc occurs. Do note that the stories are in chronological order unless stated otherwise.
Thanks for viewing this story, and happy reading!
Life in Beacon – A RWBY Fanfiction – Chapter 01 – “Hunger”
Ruby was hungry.
Now, it wasn’t the normal kind of hungry, the kind that made you ravenous for meat or pasta, that made your stomach grumble and made you smell even the slightest whiff of food. No, it was a hunger that ransacked her mind and agitated her more and more every passing moment.
Ruby wanted chocolate chip cookies.
Who could deny that begging face, the puppy-dog eyes, or the sweet voice
The Borrower Arrietty 2: Chapter 18Aerite smiled. “I’m glad you finally agreed.” She stood up, and shrunk into the size of a normal borrower. Townspeople that had once been hiding within their alcoves now began to peek out, trying to catch a glimpse of the mythical borrower before she disappeared into Dore’s house. As she opened the small thatched door, Sho noticed that her features crumpled into a grimace. Perhaps it was a time when Sho did not want to see Arrietty.
Jane hesitantly asked, “How is she doing?”
Aerite looked Sho sadly in the eyes. “I’m afraid this was worse than I expected. I can still save her, but this will take some time. I’d advise you two to spend your time elsewhere, and return when Spiller calls.” With that, she glided into the house and closed the door behind her.
Jane and Sho eyed each other, then slowly climbed back up to their regular heights. Maribel called for Jane to wait, but Dore held her back.
“Maribel, Arrietty will need s
Six Second Poem"We're all the same," she said. "Friend, tell me," she asked, "how are we different?"
For six seconds I paused, then I said:
Some of us ..
love more than we hate,
laugh more than we cry,
work harder than we play, but
live before we die.
Some of us don't.
And that, my friend, is how we are all different.
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
I willI will love you
all the way to the place where ladybirds go to die,
to the lushest corners of the earth
that hold the secrets no man was meant to see
and we will find them, and know them together.
I will love you
all the way to the place where bubbles are made
at the bottom of a glass of cider
that blisters the glass with condensation
as we trade hats and laugh at the way the air smiles.
I will love you
all the way inside a branch where buds dream of Becoming,
where those one-day-flowers stir wooden hearts
into an uprising, into a blossoming life
and we will plant our ambitions there, in the blooming place.
I will love you
all the way to the square brackets that hold our boxes
because you are my best friends, and you will be
as we fold papery hands around paper-cut wrists and cry
and mourn eighty-odd years flown by too fast. Even then.
Even then, I will love you still.
love didn't matter, but home was with youi.
there's still shadows left of you
even with the
little that remains. i wish
sometimes the light
would stop it's singing long enough
for them to grow,
my heart spends enough
time aching when
just the photographs
show their faces.
you took me
to a wedding once - it was a cold
night, and the
of stars in the sky made
it seem like God's
breath was reaching out
to earth. i don't remember
the names of the two who
indefinitely, anymore, not
when the wind's taken
in it's hold; but i remember crying because
love's just so damn
hard to find, and you
found me instead behind
the rosebushes that
were too stained to be called
me that sometimes
love doesn't matter, and
i (did)n't want to
you asked me once if anything
mattered, a lighter
gracing one hand and a
cigarette lining your
lips. i wasn't
sure back then
and i don't know
if i am now
(but i think i want to say yes).
my body never felt
unarticulatedtonight I ask myself:
where are you going with all these names
in your pockets? syllables that taste
unauthentic in the desperate American
repression is a series of images
earthbound angels breathing
flame, starving hands speaking
in tongues, glazed eyes
asking are you fucking okay
pale skin becoming moonlight,
reflecting and refracting and
the quiet understatement
I've ForgottenWhen she died
I tied a knot in my stomach
so I would remember
but I've been so busy
trying to remember her dying
I forgot how to forget.
how to let go -
and the doctors said
they would cut me open
and snip her out
a blade between the bows
and the pain, would be gone
but I've forgotten
how to let go -
and I still don't want to.
The Elephant ManHe had elephant hands; swollen and tendered
by old age and wiping away childrens' crying
so they were leathered and carefully painted
with a veneer of the dust made by old books,
but when he read to me the pages didn't shake
and his throat didn't contract about the words
like they were enemies to be spat out, bloodied.
Lungs didn't shiver and eyes didn't milk, then.
Now, I see love ephemeral. I see love half-dead
and carving its riverbed path, slowly eroding;
until it can rejoin oceans once known in heaven.
Now, I see him ephemeral. I see him half-living.
I see the fear of burdenship as the only thing
that makes his eyes flicker how Pernod used to.
I see a beautiful, crumpled drawing of my hero
as my grandfather slips, wearily, back to sleep.
Diamond TearIn silence
I observe them
Laughing and having fun
While I'm in my corner
I feel out of place
I don't belong here
So I leave
And no one notices
Now I'm out on the street
A dark and silent one
Enjoying the breeze
Lost in my thoughts
Suddenly I hear a sob
And I look around
I see a girl
Sitting on a bench
A single diamond tear
Running down her face
I don't know her
No one else is around
I could just leave
But I can't
So I sit by her side and ask
Without looking her in the eyes
For a moment
And then she takes my hand
And we look
Into each other's eyes
And she whispers
SafeI clasped my hand tight shut around my mothers.
I was a possessive oyster wrapped around pearly fingers
bitten white by the freshly whisked air.
We braced ourselves against the frozen metal frames
that, although unmovable by infantile hands,
were not a substantial enough barrier against a tempest.
The sea lashed out its limbs in a fury
and the sky’s face paled grey with worry
at what that grasping anger might achieve.
It rose to greet us, stood on mighty churning haunches
and collapsed heavily around our shoulders
with the dramatic violence of a dancer
crashing down upon a splintered Tibia.
It drenched us, filling mouths and ears with water.
My mother’s hand squeezed mine, comforting,
and as the sea drew back again,
preparing to strike out at us over and over
until its very exhaustion point – and over once more –
As it readied itself to slash our raincoats,
with the force of an evening spiralling into true darkness,
over and over –
for a moment the smell o
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