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'My son lives on the Ceiling.'"My son lives on the Ceiling."
I used to work as an in-home nurse (I am a man, by the way) for an older gentleman named Mr. Kurt. It wasn't a fantastic job, seeing as a lot of the time it involved wiping butts and other things that you don't even want to know about, but it got me by. This experience with Mr. Kurt, though, was a lot different than any other I had ever had. It definitely changed my views on reality.
Mr. William Kurt, born in the summer of 1928. His legs were rendered useless in a car accident in his early fifties. He was a widower, his wife, Molly Ashborn-Kurt (who decided to keep her maiden name of 'Ashborn'), died in the birth of his Son, Billiam. Billiam later drowned in the bath tub at the age of Six.
In a nutshell, William Kurt had a very sad life story-Immobile for years, widowed, and childless. All other family were either Dead, not close enough to see him or trying to get as far as possible.
Mr. Kurt was not well-liked in his neighborhood. At one point, he was ev
OC bio: EsperanzaName: Esperanza (Esme for short)
Looks: very curly and dark red hair, with mossy green eyes. Petite body shape, somewhat strong Spanish accent, dark grey-almost black-fur.
Personality: She has the personality of a typical preschooler, only a little more patient. She enjoys playing, watching the clouds, and being with her Aunt, Daybreak, and her father, Asphodel. Her mother died when Esme was younger. She likes to learn new things, and while she doesn't have the most active thinking mind, she is very imaginative. She dislikes complaining, arguing, and rain.
Bio: Esme was born in the winter months, but there is never any snow in the jungle. She spends most of her time with her Dad, and somewhat with her Aunt and cousins. She hasn't done much in her life, yet, but she will.
Dune-Silverwing OCName: Dune
Species: Vampyrum/greywing Halfbreed
Age: 1 year, 3 minutes
-Cynder (Unborn sister)
Dune has greyish-dark brown fur, a mixture of both his mothers dark copper fur, and his fathers dark grey fur. He also inherited his fathers eyes, which his younger sister did as well. What he did not inherit was his mothers size, rendering him the size of a normal northern bat. He is Average in stature and build, but he has a bit of muscle on his arms.
While he is sly and cunning, he also has a sence of goodness and doesn't want to become a nuisance. He often times notaces small things that others wouldn't. He is daring, has a nack for getting in trouble, and he is somewhat sociable. He tends to talk little, but enjoys a good conversasion when he can find one. His Diet consists of mostly bugs, sometimes meat.
Dune was born all but three minutes a
Wolfsbane-Silverwing OCName: Wolfsbane.
Age: 2 and a half years.
-Willow (mother, Passed away)
-Monsoon (Father, passed away)
-Cynder (unborn daughter)
Wolfsbane has dark grey fur, somewhat black, which his daughter (Ember) inherited from him. He Has dark blue eyes with small specks of green, which again, both his eldest son (Dune) and his youngest daughter (Ember) have both inherrited from him. He has a black crest atop his head, which is spiked and messy.
Alot like his mate, Wolfsbane is a daredevil and likes to get in trouble. its almost like a second nature to him. At times, he will hold back when he knows its good for him. He is, as well, stubborn. But he has a good heart, and will do whats right, even if he isn't sure what will happen. He is all around a family man, and has a bit of a dark side he keeps to himself. he would never harm what means everything to him, and would
Rhiannon-Silverwing OCName: Rhiannon
Age: 2 years, 5 months.
-Cynder (unborn Daughter)
Rhiannon is what you would call a "normal looking vampyrum", Save for her dark copper fur that clashes with her bright green eyes. She is a fair size, allthough a bit frail. She can hold her own, mind you. Like her daughter (Ember), She has a small tuft of brown fur ontop of her head, but not as long or curled.
Rhiannon is both nurturing, caring, and gentle, a perfect mother figure. She does have her adventurous side, allthough. She is very shy at first, and tends to stick to the shadows. When you get to know her, you will find that she can be somewhat impulsive, and tends to blurt out what she thinks. She can be somewhat posessive, very resourceful, and a bit of a daredevil. Her diet consists of meat.
Rhiannon left her jungle home at a you
Ember-Silverwing OCName: Ємвɛя
Species: Vampyrum/graywing hybrid
Age: Yearling. (1 year)
-Cynder (Unborn sister)
Ember has dark Grey fur. It is usualy seen either messy and spiky, or smoothed down and curly. She has Dark blue eyes with small specks of green in them. She has a frilled Brown-black tuft of fur atop her head, but it isn't very long. She is dainty, and feminine, but not frail.
Ember is a bit of a jack of all trades. While she is caring and protective, she is stubborn and curious at the same time. She has a nack for being loud or wanting to be herd, and sometimes causes problems by speaking her mind. She can also be very moody.She can also be sometimes solitary and easily anoyed, and prefers her time alone when she needs a break. Bust most of the time, she is very sociable and friendly. Her diet consists of mostly meat, and occasio
the hours of standing byDo not cry for me,
for when we cry
we are as wolves,
howling in the wind.
Their cries disolve
as water does in air,
as it turns to steam
then nothing at all.
when i say i'm so tired
it means i'm tired of everything.
tired of all the silence,
tired of all the hours.
the hours of waiting
for someone to talk to.
of standing by.
Maybe i'm not from here.Its raning,
pitter patter on my window pain.
mummy says i can't go out,
mummy says i won't like rain.
but i want to go out
because i do like rain
it reminds me of things
that i've red in my books.
daddy says thats silly, though.
Daddy says i should be realistic.
i dont think i would want to do that,
all the grownups look so sad.
so yes, when i speak
i do use big words.
but only because i can
because of yes, my books.
and the kids all look at me
like i'm something totaly different
Maybe i am
maybe i'm not from here.
ZombieI can't remember
the last time you called me
maybe it was a month ago
or maybe it was a year
we used to talk all day
sometimes even all night
but you've gone away somewhere
but you never told me where.
I can wait, i promise you
but i cant hold on forever
if you dont come back soon my dear
i fear i may be a zombie.
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever and
crossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,
I could only believe those words
lodged in your heart
like they did mine
because every time I think back
I can't help but remember the
under star lit constellations,
and study sessions where we
learned more about each other
than we did Biology
but now it's clear
that each beat of your heart
has made those words fade,
and you could care less
about crossed pinkies
but I'll still see you,
and hear your voice
and I'll still wish
the meaning hadn't changed-
Forgiveness takes twoThe words are struggling
to tumble off my tongue,
and despite having
a fleshy cushion
to rest on,
they stain my teeth
and sting like acid
"I'm sorry," I stutter,
but the bitter taste
doesn't leave my tongue-
not because the words weren't true,
but because I know
I won't hear,
At peace within this tranquil garden,
I picture the moments where I've made you smile.
Those times are endlessly precious to me,
I think they're worth the while.
They're worth the time I've spent with you,
Even if it wasn't long.
I only wish I'd spent a little more,
Before our love was gone.
She's an artistShe's an artist.
Always seems to be daydreaming,
She draws to escape her pain.
Cause for a single moment,
When her work is done.
It seems like there is no more rain.
And she could finally touch the sun.
The one that shines so brightly in her paintings.
But then it's gone,
So she keeps drawing,
She's become good at escaping.
Running from reality.
Because dreams are the only things she wants,
Her imagination is the only thing she's ever known.
And it's sad really...
Because she tries so hard to be happy.
But the most beautiful thing she could ever create.
Was that smile upon her face,
And that is the one thing that remains blank.
Waiting to someday be something more than,
Mommy Is A Super HeroMommy Is A Super Hero
Standing before his class, he held his tiny report,
“Who is your super hero?” Was written in yellow chalk on the green board.
Exhaling his breath, the curly haired boy closed his little eyes,
“Don't be ashamed of yourself” His mother's words rung in his ears, “And don't ever cry.”
He began to read aloud, with a shaky voice.
to his class, he told his mother's story.
At age fifteen, she was a beauty queen,
the most beautiful girl in all of the world.
She flaunted her silky hair, bore her bare legs,
prided her breast. The boys treated her like she was a treasure chest.
They respected her rules, they “looked, but didn't touch”,
but there was one older man, who from her, wanted too much.
All alone he met her, he approached her in the alley,
and all his mother told him, was that this man had treated her badly.
But what the boy didn't know was that she was taken against her will,
and that two months later, she turned up ext
Still HereSuicide is a
Thought that frequently lurks
In my mind, wich
Lets it overcome the
Laughter and happiness
Here I still fight, however
Enduring this sad life
Reviving my hopes
Embracing the gift of life
cenotaph of stormsthe first thunderstorm
was triggered by a blunt pair
of scissors, sparking violently
against the lightning,
shaking in the wind.
the downpour pierced,
tattooed with no ink but
the dark bleakness
of an overcast morning,
infiltrating uniformed wrists.
hid behind the music block,
shaky raindrops rioting
fears, she fractured.
the second storm
wept a two year downpour
outline that dripped from wrist
to hip, sidelong silhouette glances
obscured by the rain.
stalictidal waves shuddered
frozen, until icy glass
fell in stained shards from
the stillness inside.
thinner, brittler, growing
in flurries of sleet and hail,
her outline was never filled,
though the floods threatened
the third thunderstorm
was a mist-ridden melancholia,
a dream for permanence
smeared in ink through
fueled by the hope
that just this once,
the rain would spark a
rebirth beneath the ground.
instead, a tsunami
washed away the ink
as tides so often do.
smotherher spine was dusk
and unmade nests,
but he tried to live there
he was neither nocturnal
nor a dawn-believer,
so he suffocated
in the birdhouse of her ribs.
between my vertebrae, you are (cemeterial)oh, these writers never speak; they
claw words out of bird carcasses,
poets pecking viscera like necropolitans.
they count their ribs to remind you
of a corpse or of a matchstick. dry bones
between fissured wrists & funeral pyres,
these have been dying days &
they're all mortuaries.
All over my tableever wonder what was on the moon?
like the little aliens
that lived in the shoe?
what kind of things
lie in those gray patches,
what kind of monsters
leer in the dark.
my fingers always want me to rhyme.
whenever i try to write like this
When i pet my cats, they always hiss.
hey, look at that.
I've never been good at letting go
never been good at letting thoughts fly
i guess my brain is just wired like a bike
it needs to be peddled to get anywhere.
but you know, maybe its like a motorcycle,
because sometimes my brain shortcircuts to.
No, i dont sit there drooling
i just sit there, zoning out.
oh, wow. i'm thinking freely now.
letting my twitchy hands twitch all the want
when i look back and read some of this,
i kinda wanna slap myself, because it sounds so sloppy.
sloppy somewhat rhymes with poppy.
And soon comes the day where we all wear red
and yes, the poppy counts as red.
roses are red, violets are blue,
sometimes soldiers have feelings too.
i think my thoughts are like
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More