

Reflection on ReflectionMirror, mirror, on the wall, Hows my hair today? Ill see him later in the hall- I hope he looks my way.Reflection on Reflection
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Need more makeup, too... They say my face is kind of plain; I think it must be true.
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Think I should start a diet- This new one worked for all my friends, I think Im gonna try it.
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Think Id look better blonde? Cause brown hair doesnt seem to get me Kisses and beyond...
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, He


The Eye of the BeholderWhat happens to a butterfly That has a crushed wing? What happens to a daisy When all the petals are pulled off After a silly, pointless game of He loves me, he loves me not? Something thats meant to be beautiful Tossed aside as useless or ugly Because of an accident Or something it couldnt prevent- Why is this world so messed up? We take things that are beautiful And rip them, ruin them, make them ugly, Then put hideous things up on display And talk about how lovely they are. Its the same way with people- We cover reaThe Eye of the Beholder


A High Price Freesias and Tulips bloomed brilliantly around an ancient oak, the sun smiled down upon them simultaneously. I closed my eyes and took in the feel of the wind on my cheeks and the breeze in my hair. It was only in Cross that I could experience such things. I let my wings tear out from my shoulder blades to soak in all the nutrition this sun had to offer. It had been centuries since I felt the throbbing of the split skin, but Id been spending so much time in Cross that it sometimes crept up on me. The pain did not register this time- my attention focused on the tall stunning creature walking towards me throuA High Price


Die Verse CityWill I mourn the broken calls? The ashen halls? The binding walls of this existence Of graphite, of ink, of paper Of all things that, sooner or later, Will break That these feet, however calloused, Will be forced to step upon again And bleed that blackened blood That are my words And let the rains of the future Wash through my every moment So that my frail body may be ripped And torn And shredded And lost And may wash up upon another foolish heart Of which my soul So hard, so empty, so dark Will leave it's mark And was thenDie Verse City


ParasiteRubber, copper, stainless steel Make this creature's central feel. Soft, texture, human-less mesh, Appear to mock a form of flesh. Resist the writhing and its grasps, There's no hope within these clasps. Ropes stick closely to every nerve, Flexing meets your every curve. Try to rip from your life, And you shall end up with more strife. Cut it, burn it, take much care, Risk your movement if you dare. Feel the change, feel the drain, As it fuses to the brain. Take its soul, take its sense, You'll never lose its influence. Someone comes, hands the curParasite
| As you can probably tell from my username, my name is Amanda. I have no deep, eloquent, thought-triggering quotes to put here, nor a work of art dazzling enough to bring even the harshest critics to tears. I don't think I can sum myself up in just this one little paragraph, even if only because, being only 18, I've only just begun to discover who "myself" really is. All I can really say right now is that I have no idea what will end up on here, because I never really know what will inspire me, or what "it" will inspire me to do, make, or say. However, whether you like it, hate it, don't understand it, or just want to say "hi", feel free to send me a message, cause Lord knows I love to talk. ^^ |
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~May the name of our mutual Muse be called "Love", for our future works and future lives, even though she does make us do all the work, by experiences or simple thought, and it will all be worth it in the end.
Sun out, eyes mourn, moon out, love born~
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"...but I believe errors, especially written errors, are often the only markers left by a solitary life: to sacrifice them is to lose the angles of personality, the riddle of a soul."
-Mark Z. Danielewski
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~May the name of our mutual Muse be called "Love", for our future works and future lives, even though she does make us do all the work, by experiences or simple thought, and it will all be worth it in the end.
Sun out, eyes mourn, moon out, love born~
And you'll fill it all back up again, with even better work. You're already off to a great start. <3
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~May the name of our mutual Muse be called "Love", for our future works and future lives, even though she does make us do all the work, by experiences or simple thought, and it will all be worth it in the end.
Sun out, eyes mourn, moon out, love born~
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