

White Matter The hard wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room offered little physical comfort, but Anne sat back in it, smiling calmly regardless. She preferred mild buttocks pain to the insufferably irritating interaction the other patients provided.White Matter by ~nautishko
She sat, eyes firmly shut, listening to the sound of the rickety old chair moan in protest as she rocked back and forth. Around her she heard quiet voices reciting nonsensical monologues repeatedly, the shuffling of feet on squeaky tiles and the occasional energetic outburst as 'Mr. Sporadic' jumped up out of his seat to proclaim that he had 'won'. What exactly it was that he always insisted he had


Illumination He had been only fifteen years old when he was shut away, but now, after enough time had passed for a beard to grow on his hollowed face, his yearning to return to the pleasant family home of his childhood ceased; this dark, dank-smelling room was where his heart was.Illumination by ~nautishko
It wasn't as though his needs weren't catered for down there. He had a small bathroom with a toilet that lead off the main room through a decaying archway, and though a majority of tiles were broken being the cause of numerous light-deprived mishaps it served its purpose. Food was lowered down to him twice a day via an old-fashioned laundry chute, and he could ide


Ephemerality Part IEphemerality by ~nautishko
Head and body push upward,
breaking through surface tension
to breach above the watery nursery.
Time for dormancy draws to a close
and the prospect of full maturity empowers.
Skin is shed and wings burst forth;
exposing their tender membrane to the morning air.
Not alone in his consummation,
the mayfly emerges;
surrounded by the presence
of a thousand sailboat wings.
Though unlike the rest of the armada,
the first hesitant flight,
the desperate swarming,
searching,
and the twirling, airborne insemination
will not become a reality:
they are to stay the dreamed future
of a blossoming nymph
For these years spent develo
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- Making your ideas look pretty since 2K10 -
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Sometimes I think.
Sometimes I don't.
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Its not the fall that kills you...
it's the ground.