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:iconpardonm3:
Not shitty, just unedited.

Hooray for the repetition of vomiting (never thought I'd ever say that), and

Disappointing, he says. Excuse me? You asked me how my home life was, he says. Pause: chalkboard, pencils, keys, half-read eMail, desks, ties, Literary Devices:, blue door, white ceiling, brown tile, shaved head, fat green wedge eyes. Yes, but—what did you say, exactly? He says, I said, 'disappointing.'

Devious Comments

:iconrottenpeeches:
You amaze me more than words can say. You can take the english language and transform dull words, sentences and bland emotions and suddenly make them real and pure, cutting and stunning. It's like you've felt so much that nothing else is as real and fluid and beautiful as this. :heart:

--
"Don't poison everything."
Saul Bellow.
:iconalyssaattack:
Disgusting.
Stomach-churning.
Beautiful.

--
Paper wings, catching plastic air. Are you there?
:iconpardonm3:
Not shitty, just unedited.

Hooray for the repetition of vomiting (never thought I'd ever say that), and

Disappointing, he says. Excuse me? You asked me how my home life was, he says. Pause: chalkboard, pencils, keys, half-read eMail, desks, ties, Literary Devices:, blue door, white ceiling, brown tile, shaved head, fat green wedge eyes. Yes, but—what did you say, exactly? He says, I said, 'disappointing.'
:iconghost-of-ink:
And we all wonder why fireworks are in place of roses. Not those roses, the ones back behing the shed, growing in the darkness, unable to feel the light.

Very, humbling, I guess the word is. I can't seem to find one that fits any better.

--
"The world is rarely seen in color, because no one wants to be holding the paint brush."

"It's never about what you get in the end, it's the wisdom you gain getting there."
:iconfrancesdance:
see you're lucky. nobody yells at you for having poetry thats in prose format. The only reason it ends up like that, is cause its written like a poem. right? ugh. I'm sorry. enough of my inconsistent ramblings. wonderful way with words as always my dear. keep up the good work. :heart: :+fav:
:iconangelalkony:
You never seize to amaze me. :heart:

--
No sig -_-
:iconprairiedaisy:
I echo ~pardonM3. Unedited but so definitely not shitty.

Just wondering...is this a typo? he legs his hands droop

--
:idea: epiphanies are the spice of life.
:iconolobocanta:
you are incredibly talented.
"Someone is throwing up in the bathroom, making a scratching sound throughout the house, and it doesn't evaporate, assimilate into the walls and up into the sky where it can die in the open palms of stars."

i particularly loved this line.
your use of imagery and blending the dialogue with it is really awesome.

for me, the 4th of july is sad, too, and i wrote a short prose piece involving that to some extent.
here:
[link]
:iconlivingcomforteagle:
:blush: jesus. where are you seeing all this beauty? thank you so, so much.

--
dark pictures, thrones, the stones that pilgrims kiss,
poems that take a thousand years to die;
but ape the immortality of this
red label on a little butterfly.
-vladimir nabokov
:iconlivingcomforteagle:
stomach-churning is right. i wrote this with a shudder.

thank you. :)

--
dark pictures, thrones, the stones that pilgrims kiss,
poems that take a thousand years to die;
but ape the immortality of this
red label on a little butterfly.
-vladimir nabokov

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