~kho13

Khodor Ammar

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metro by ~photosmile

Omnimo 5.0 for Rainmeter by ^fediaFedia

Expelliarmus by ~spacemonkeydr

Llama love stamp by !prosaix

My love shivers, like the sun.- Tell me what you see.
- I see you, and.. that's all I see.
- Don't look at me.
- You're beautiful. How can I not look at you?

She blushes.

- Look right in front of you. Stop looking at me.
- Okay.. He nods.
- What do you see?
- I see… I see the horizon.
- …and?
- And it's beautiful.
- Find another word for it.
- It's something far.
- What's the horizon?
- What is this? An interrogation?
- Not really, I just like to tease you.

He smiles

- So? What's the horizon?
- You're stubborn.
- You're breathtaking. And cute too, but only when teased.

They laugh; he looks at her and says.

- They say the horizon is this fictive line, riMy love shivers, like the sun. by ~Prtoujours

MDRS-FD01 by ~mindriders

Reinvent mei. My head aches terribly.

        You don’t understand.
        You see me smile, but you never say,
        that you like it.
        Perhaps you would rather see me cry.. Perhaps.
        Your hand still slides on me, and I want to rip it.
        That for once, just once, it stops,
        surprises itself, glues itself on a piece of skin.
Reinvent me by ~Prtoujours

My ear doesn't want...It’s true that I advance (still), that I could become almost somebody, be almost beautiful, and that I can, sometimes, be proud of myself.

I know that words fly, that they come and go. These things never change, and always make me lose my head.

With your eyes of a lost young man, touched by life, you came to find me, in me, even where I never wanted to go again. Never let anyone in.

I wanted to detest these nice promises, these light illusions.

Here I am, naked.

Do you see this open heart that’s beating constantly, feeding itself with dreams of easy girls?

They sell themselves, they try no matter what: they should live.
So thMy ear doesn't want... by ~Prtoujours

Mahmoud Darwish by ~Mawasi

The sweetness of my solitude,uI told my head to stop talking about you. But my head wants to write you. And it’s writing you all the time. I told my head to kick you out of its corners, but it won’t listen.

I am controlled by your presence in me. You keep wandering and I can’t even tell when you’re here and when you’re not.

My love, I forgot. I didn’t want to lose a thing. And I forgot. Forgive me.

My love, I was scared. Scared of myself, scared of you, and you could never know.

I can’t sleep. There’s a dance of regrets in my mind and unhealed wounds in my soul.

I want to love you at least for a lifetime, and always find you, bThe sweetness of my solitude,u by ~Prtoujours

you can't make them love you.He is beautiful, new, unexplored.  He has wanted to kiss her ever since they met one week ago and fell prey to helpless chemistry.

         “Don’t,” she says, moving her hands in a subconscious “yes” pattern along his arm as he rubs his cheek against hers. “You don’t even know my favourite colour.” The wind cuts through her thin jacket, and his chest is so warm.

         “Red,” he guesses, improbably correct. His ears are cold.

         “And hyou can't make them love you. by ~estallidos

The Thing About ClichesI.
If this were a cliché,
A poem, or both
It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.

There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. We’ll throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.

This is not a cliché anymore.

So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.

II.
If this were a romance,
A message in a bottle, or both
It would still be cliché, to capture electric fingers and longings locked away with skeleton keysThe Thing About Cliches by ~summernightangel

10-01-09

The smell of death choking their innocence
The salty drops on their cheeks mark their fears
The heavy storm of bombs stretch their sleepless nights
A big confusing cloud of smoke blurs their little empire of ashes & blood
Collapsed houses, fragmented bodies, crumbled lives, broken dreams
The ugly sight boils your blood to death

15 days, 827 dead, 3360 wounded

Rockets dropped from the heavens, bombs fired from hell
aimed at civilians, universities, hospitals
The mosques are down, journalists are caught in the crossfire, ambulances burnt
230 children with their heads blown off
100 bloodless, breathless women
The killing ofGaza by ~Benet

gestalt I hope this is more than inebriated romance.

I watch you in the diner.

I'm always watching, through mirrors, through doorways, seeing you and seeing me and knowing we're reflections of the same hypocrisy; I'm outside the television, this tellingvision, I'm disconnected, broken, the nerve between me and the rest of existence is strained and I see beyond your charades. I'm on the outside of the window, our interactions are equivocal, ambiguous, filtered and muted. My reality is a drunk prism, and your reality is an insane labyrinth of pattern, schedule, and bullshit.

The coffee at dinner makes remnants of the vodka at breakfast taste lgestalt by ~synapticattack

Poisons by ~Dain22

Clear Diamond Revolution Skin by ~giannisgx89

King Pomegranate by ~arghavan

ManuscriptI have written us down, typed us up, and sent us out.
they will edit us, and say some parts are no good.

but I want your run-ons, your lack of punctuation; and you are so easy
on my weak binding, my damaged spine.

Manuscript by ~nonamepsalmist

In Action and Apprehension by ~Lady-Az

MollyCool. by ~Fezat1

compulsive liar.once i asked you your favourite
colour, and you said, "the brown
of your eyes," so i put in one green
contact and told everyone that i
came out of the womb as a factory
defect, half-priced, damaged goods.

-

sometimes i am from canada and
sometimes i am from england and
sometimes i am from spain.

i've carefully tempered my accents
and plotted out my stories with
yellow and purple coloured pencils
on index cards. my origin changes
like the seasons.

"why do you lie to everyone?" you
ask.

"why not?" i reply.

-

i wear nametags that read "alicia"
and "liana" and "samantha," because
i want to know how it feels to be
someoncompulsive liar. by ~estallidos

I Can't Swim - Wallpaper Pack by `manicho

Make Me Pretty by ~yanjin

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