Keys Try to stay in the hollowed book that you made for yourself - this is a dare; people will try to pull you out. Some will be jealous and hurtful - some, nurturing and caring and selfless. But they'll all have masks on of the same stormy ilk. That is your punishment for destroying an author's words - pushing your face into the mold to make it your own book. Don't push, just lay down and close your eyes. The author'll be along shortly to make it all better, cradle your jaw with blades made from hands.Keys by ~AlacrityJones
If only you asked to use her words before you hid yourself, would everything be better and bigger and bright. But you are 'demned to always look
Rubber band ball I think of you while I try to kiss the ceiling with my boomerang lips. I crack a smile from jumping too high and there's blood everywhere and I'm paralyzed by how I never make sense in my own head.Rubber band ball by ~AlacrityJones
Lying upside-down on my freshly moved bed, I see how little I care about being stained. These are my badges, my credentials. As my blood flows down my cheeks and lips I can't help but think of the shes and hers and the girl in front of me who is fed up with my boomerang kisses.
I'm thrown by how others act around me. I always come back to the girl that I never knew(but always wish i did). Love isn't a game of knowledge, though. Love distorts time
"you don't seem to understand" "You don't seem to understand," said the duck, "beagles aren't supposed to have wings.""you don't seem to understand" by ~AlacrityJones
The beagle stretched his wings, the feathers softly rustling as he moved.
"Danged if I know," he said.
The duck waddled over to the window. "Looks like the pond is icing over."
Beagle wasn't listening. He was busy lifting his newly formed wings as high as he could.
"I wonder if I can fly" he said.
The Duck snorted, "of course you can't fly, dogs can't FLY. If you could FLY," continued the duck watching the flurries of snow outside the window, "you wouldn't be a DOG."
Duck turned back into the room, looking at the Beagle.
The beagle smiled, "
Vanity Mirror mirror on the,Vanity by ~AlacrityJones
wall.
Who's the most passionate of them all?
I know it's not me; I'd
like to meet them, though. (Such heights we could reach!)
Who's the strongest of them all?
We could fortify from the dark
of the night together. (maybe forever)
Who's the fairest of them all?
I'm just curious, (not that I'd have a chance. . .)
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
show me the object of my desires;
stop showing me all
the rivets and spires
of my face reflected;
show me on your pane etched,
the object of my desires.
Scars My fingers trace yearsScars by ~bad-vibe
across my scars,
faded with time flown by,
pale pink memories,
the promises they bore,
jagged and misleading,
each one a fable,
a tattoo of a different sort,
a lifetime written
between freckles and flesh,
forgotten injuries appearing,
fingertips worn bare
from the years torn away.
Yearning 
Sta.sh
thank you
) ("Bring it on")
!
