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The Boy in the Bloody ShirtHe called me last night.
I could hear his voice shaking, a quiet and painful tone.
He was crying, tears dripping down his cheeks from suppressed sobs as he sniffed.
He said to me he didn't want to be alone.
And that if I could come over to be with him quickly.
I put down the phone, pulled on my brown bomber jacket, and ran down the street to his.
I rang the doorbell.
He didn't come, so I let myself in.
I walked through the hall and up to his room.
Giving a few gentle knocks on the white wooden door, I eased it open a crack and slipped in.
My eyes scanned the room and...
I panicked.
He was on the bed, eyes barely open, skin pale.
I could see t
Mozart HeartDear boy-with-the-mozart-heart,

I find myself comparing your eyes to Christmas morning- looking into them and feeling the comfort seeping out of their muddy depths and into my chest- the look you give that practically reaches out through the bite-sized gap between us to curl my lips up into a smile.

We're just an equation, you and I. Not that I mind, of course. Me and numbers haven’t always been the best of friends but I'd do it if it meant you'd be the end result.

I'll say your name in that sing-song way you like so much- the letters metamorphosing from breath into melodies like butterflies and I'll watch as you turn them into music
halfway?Oh shit… I’ve been running from you and you finally cornered me in the kitchen. How stupid of me to think that you wouldn’t check the kitchen…
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Uh, nothing.” I slam the fridge shut and chew my lower lip watching you closely.
Your luscious lips curve and you take a step towards me.
“You know this isn’t… I mean this isn’t right…”
Your smile grows and you take another step. I step back into the fridge and you giggle soft.
“No more running…” you mutter leaning towards me, those dark coffee orbs invading m
Strung HeartsA pillow heart; crafted ever-so-neatly from single threads
Able to be ripped out and put together again,
But it'll never be an exact replica.

As for us, our hearts have thread, too.
But the strings aren't of fiber,
They string us to our emotions,
Named heartstrings. You can't play with them
Like pillows or stuffed animals.

So you decided to take my heart
When I didn't want you to;
Tore it straight from my chest,
Heartstrings still throbbing,
Blood still pumping.
Blood still dripping.

From your fingers down your arms.
And in that moment, I wished I were a pillow,
Or something mass-produced, cris-crossed with stuffing,
Layered with fibers, f
Learn to Trust ~ for REQUIEM-OF-INSANITY Gaara sat on the grassy edge of the lonely cliff; a light breeze ruffling his short red hair. His eyes closed, he let the stillness of the night sooth him.
He was thinking about his mother again. He couldn’t believe that he had once allowed himself to think that she didn’t love him; how could he have ever done that. Deep inside, he felt a hate towards Yashamaru for telling him such lies, but on the other hand, he now understood why he did what he did, and said what he had said. He understood now. He was also able, though it was quite difficult, to forgive him. In his heart. He would never tell a single soul that, but inside he w
So I've Seen the WorldThese eyes have seen most of the world. There are landscapes more dreamlike than anything that I've seen with my eyes closed- and I've touched every inch of them with bare hands and determined feet.
  I have seen life begin on the first morning of Spring, the rain dry away and the flowers come to a vibrant life, touching rays of sunlight with their petals. I've seen someone's last moments in the dead of Winter, watched as their gaze kissed the face of Death.
  I have seen days of endless oceans, the shadows of whatever things the depths hide away from us.
  I've even seen the entire world from the top of a mountain I climbed with only m
finceline trinagulo------amoroso parte 11MIZZUO DEJA EL CHISME
-tenemos un trato niño?- jota tenía la cabeza abajo la mirada perdida y no parecía responder, estaba pensando en la primera vez que vio a marceline el día en que nació, -todo parecía estar oscuro pero había alguien que resaltaba de entre todo ese desorden, alguien que parecía ser diferente a los demás… alguien que comprendía lo que era no tener alma-, el silencio se interrumpió por unas palabras que penetraron en el alma de los tres seres que estaban allí –ACEPTO- mizzuo se preocupó mucho y salió volando a busc
Indulge In DarkI took a deep sip from the wine glass in my hand. Bringing it down, I let the bulb of the glass rest in the palm of my hand and amused myself with twirling the liquid inside. The clock on the wall in the kitchen read 2:28am. The room was almost silent save for the tick of the second hand on the clock and the light hum of the air conditioner trying to keep out the hot mid-summer night air. The chair I sat on was wooden and quite comfortable but I knew as time wore on that it would soon become hard against my body. All these trivial things spinning in my head only served as a frame for why I was really sitting out here.

A psychologist might ha
Maiko - DecadenceIf you went to a dictionary and looked up "decadence," this would be the definition you would find. This was not just a fruit tart. This was the most impressive fruit tart Mai had ever seen. This was the fruit tart of fruit tarts. It had the ripest, glossiest, plumpest strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and kiwis she'd ever seen. And, of course, it was topped with rose petals of a deep, dark red.

From over the top, Zuko looked at her with one side of his mouth quirking up, his eyes saying very clearly, "do you like it?" Hoping so hard that she would like it.

She understood what he was doing here. It was an anniversary reminder of that
My Sister's Teacher 1: Meeting Someone“Yumi, I love you.” Teru confessed.
The night was still young and even though it was dark the moonlight shone on his face perfectly. His cheeks were a bit red but his face showed no trace of shyness.
Yumi froze. She loves him too, in fact, she loves him too much. She was all but waiting for this to happen but always thought it would be a dream. But she tried to prepare herself nonetheless. Sadly, all those practicing in front the mirror went down the drain. Her heart beat too fast, her hands trembled and tears started forming in her eyes. She felt so happy. She was so happy all she could do was cry.
“Why are you crying?” Teru asked, concerned.
Yumi shook her head which meant nothing. She couldn’t even form words; she had no idea what to say. So she said the only thing that was on her mind.
“I love you too!” She shouted, in fear of him not hearing her through her crying and sniffing. She tried to wipe her
CatacombsHis gaze caused the catacombs inside my heart to rumble, crashing in on themselves with little care for what it left of me. I suppose others call this love. I, however, being less reckless than poets, call it fascination. His was a light I could never extinguish or forget, and mine was a darkness he simply couldn't see. Our lives, you might say, are opposing ends of a beautiful spectrum. Him the hero, me the playwright, conducting his every move while he just smiles like the marionette that he is.

But I can see quite well, and this marionette is adopting a mind of his own. Perhaps, too, a heart of his own. And I'll be left as defenseless as
Entry Twoholding the hand of his dying lover,
he cried
AmbedoThe scent that rolls off skin, the soft skin against rough abused hands. The steady strong beautiful beat of the heart. Each and every breath, the hitch in the deep breath taken, and the sound as it flows from the body. The vibrations of the vocal cords, as the words are spoken softly, “my love.”

The detail in the eyes, the way the colors explode and seem to shift so beautifully. Hazel and green entwined into the iris. The little details that make up the person, that separate them from any other person and make them special to you physically. Mentally they claim you, capture you in an iron grip, leaving you shuddering and fightin
LoveMouth slightly open, a breathless whisper slipping through supple lips.

A lock of hair, brushing slightly over the other's cheek and leaving behind a tingling sensation.

A delicious friction when their arms brush against each others.

Trembling fingers curling and uncurling beneath the sheets.

Not an intimate moment, but a delicate one, one that hovers between longing and bliss.

After a long silence, their lips barely graze each others for a butterly of a kiss, lasting no longer than a second.

It comes back stronger, and for about ten seconds lips meet lips surely, but gently.

A stirring in her chest, in her ribcage.

This is meant to b
Alma llena de amorTe diré todo lo que he hecho: he llorado sangre, he vendido mi alma al mejor postor, he roto el caudal de un río con mis manos, he hecho arder el agua, he retado a Moisés por tu corazón, he respirado mientras los demás aguantaban su propia respiración, he guardado el secreto de un Dementor, he escuchado a Cupido hablar sobre sus noches locas de lujuria sin amor, he descubierto la oscuridad del sol, he gritado la verdad cuando los demás callaban la mentira, he descubierto lo enano que es el mar sin los peces, he volado sobre aves que valían más que estos versos llenos de amor que t
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More from ~ThePurpleRosex

Room Of GreenIn a little nowhere, a little nonsense, a little fun
In a little girls mind is a place she shuns
It's not a corner nor a cul-de-sac of the mind
Although, at first, it very much so looks quite that size
This little room of green, with two white doors
Are more than the things she can ignore

In one door rests the quiet of the night
But not the quiet that it seems
There's a captivating lack of light
No, this is not the realm of dreams
This meadow of forgiving feeling chills
Are the flowers that they lay on graves resting upon hills

In the other, with a twisting handle
An opposite will reside
Brighter than a thousand lit candles
Whe
Need vs. AddictionI looked at myself. What had I become? And yet as I thought this question, I grabbed a small bag of what I craved, poured a little into a paper, and I rolled it.

I stared at the enticing little object, so close to my lips, all I had to do was kiss it to feel it running through my veins again. I inhaled, smelling the vile yet delectable scent of my addiction. I got s buzz from juts an inhale. I wondered, exactly, how something so bad could make me feel so good.

Bad. This was bad.

I tossed the ciggarette into the trash, but after I found myself reaching for it again, I grabbed the bag and cigg, tossed them into the toilet and flushed. I was
To See While PlayingI stepped out, with a hand in mine, and walked forward to great my grand beauty.

She was smooth, soft. Silk to my fingers as I touched her and light as a feather as we played.

This grand was like none. It was mine. I loved the silky feel of the ivory glistening on my fingertips as they danced across a melody in a whimsical memory I never had.

The things one could imagine while playing! But I only sat there and played. I tried to imagine...

And then I skipped a note. And all went absolutely wrong. I was lost. I scrambled to find the key I must've slipped over while trying to imagine...

I brought my hands to my face, pressing into my eyes

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January 23, 2012
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A project I expended on recently. I hope to expand on it more.
~
Comment/favorites/critique is wanted and welcome.
:icondreamsinstatic:
`dreamsinstatic Jan 27, 2012  Professional Writer
Your fantastic work has been featured in Friday Night Features
Reply
:iconthepurplerosex:
~ThePurpleRosex Jan 27, 2012  Student Writer
Thank you for the feature! :D :huggle:
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:icondreamsinstatic:
`dreamsinstatic Jan 28, 2012  Professional Writer
You're welcome.
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