Haru's Lit - Original PG

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Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Lady Haru » Sat Apr 26, 2014 9:33 pm

ignore early stuff and only look at recent work

-----------

hmm i'm pretty good at essays and other academic writing
but i'm not sure how well i am at creative and free writing like short stories and poetry
but i enjoy them so i would like to give it a try
if that's alright...


Do Not Come Near Me
I am Poison
In the air
Breathed in without notice
By those for whom I care

I am Poison
On your skin
With every warm touch
I kill softly from within

I am Poison
In your veins
I travel quietly through your heart
The unknown source of all your pains

I am Poison
Worst of all to myself
As I Kill the mind slowly
And the body writhes in pain
An ailment to quarantine
and to abstain
Last edited by Lady Haru on Mon Sep 15, 2014 1:46 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Birdofterror » Sun Apr 27, 2014 3:56 pm

Even the most hopelessly sickly of poisons can be transformed into life saving medicine. Sometimes even in small doses, they can heal wounds born of less potent toxins.

Everyone likes a little poison now and then. Otherwise, when a truly insipid strain comes along, we won't know how to react! A kid in a bubble can't survive in this world. Hell, the only difference between a little bit of poison and a little bit of candy is taste!

A poison is only lethal to the untrained being, even the poison itself. ;)
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby GrimlyLoveGunner » Mon May 05, 2014 3:36 pm

Awwww, that's pretty~

......

In a sad way? XD

Bird's right though. Lots of medicines are diluted/purified forms of poison.

Some poisons kill off ailments. Example: Radiation therapy. 8D

Course, that's only completely relevant if this is your own angsty ramblings. XD
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Lady Haru » Wed Jun 18, 2014 7:26 am

here, have some crappy poetry from the morning....

Words to Recite on a Bad Day

I am brave, I am strong
And I won't let anyone tell me I'm wrong
I am resilient, I am fire
And anyone who says different is a liar
I am a human, I deserve good
And I won't let myself be misunderstood
I won't let anyone push down
I won't let anyone take my crown
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Lady Haru » Thu Sep 11, 2014 7:57 am

i hate my poetry so much
it's all crappy
i look back at my writing the same way i look back at my art
like... ashamed. but everyone is their own worst critique, they say....


Blank
Vacant eyes staring into the void
On nights where nothing tastes quite as sweet
As bitter words.
The feel of my heart hitting my rib cage
With not enough room to beat
And growing shortness of breath.
Atone for unknown sins
With the taste of salt on my tongue and
The colour red.
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Comic Kitten » Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:48 pm

Haru, I wish you liked your writing more. It's very beautiful!

If you ever need to talk to someone, please don't hesitate to ask. And if you're ever in Utah, let me know!
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Lady Haru » Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:53 pm

thank you, that's very kind
i can never look at my work and think positive things...
but i'm glad someone likes it

and thank you, dear
i appreciate your kindness
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Lady Haru » Mon Sep 15, 2014 1:26 am

The Girl Who Sees

There is something pretty about her blood shot eyes. They are a deep shade of red that nearly match her cheeks on a normal day. Cheeks now covered in black dust, hiding the lack of color in her face. Nausea sweeps over her body and she knows she won't eat for the next few days. Holding her stomach, It's not like she minds. Her body shakes softly, as if sudden cold air has snuck into her room. Her breath is uneven. Tight moans escape her lips as she shifts in her seat again and again, not quite comfortable. She is plagued by an ailment, that much is clear. Her wrist itches. The girl is staring absently at her computer screen as different thoughts fight for the attention in her mind. Thoughts repeating on an endless cycle, like a broken cassette tape. The strings are knotted and a mess, spilling out of her. She closes her eyes to ease the throbbing in her temples and she is plunged into black. Silence. Such quiet darkness, empty and still. But opening her eyes reveals the harsh light of her screen once more. Harsh. Everything in this world is harsh. Where does that quiet darkness lie, if outside of thoughts? A permanent escape, if one dares to take the chance. If only for that peace that is taken from us too often by time and consciousness. Oh but as they weep for those who reach the peace that waits within the dark behind our eye lids. Those who wait in content stand burning their eyes in the harsh light of life. They do not observe with the blood shot eyes of the girl who would rather lie in the dark. With cloudy vision, she sees clearly. And oh, they weep for the girl who heals her ailment by finding that darkness which lies behind her eyes and deciding it is greater than life.
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Re: Haru's Lit - Original PG

Postby Lady Haru » Mon Sep 15, 2014 12:17 pm

Blood Promise

She speaks softly to the voices that lay before her swollen eyes. Splitting the flesh, solace is offered in the time of barest night. Oh, how the sun would not dare cast light upon those who partake in somber transgressions by her absence. Flow then, the ink that which writes the pact of the desperate. The colour red blooms slow in small bursts in the wake of impatient ghouls, ready to bestow forgiveness clutched in their claws. They creep along her empty vision as her gift of life is drained, their hunger rising. She stares not at her dark givers but outward in distant awe with glass eyes. From the heavens, fluorescent gods weep for their child who has cast her vision away from their glow but looks onward into the shadows and their inhabitants. A child once more taken from their caress matures into another aching body, sore for any eyes. On her lips spill promises of love and virtue, what sake does she lie for? Words choke in her throat as sobbing replaces any intelligible sound she may have wished to express further. Time catches up to this unearthly business and the figures recede back to which they came. The girl lies alone with unfinished thoughts as her hollow chest heaves with a final noise. Oh, do the young squander the gift that flows so readily beneath the flesh for the dimmest hope of greater fortune? What growing hunger will allow such creatures to feast upon if one does not limit their wandering eyes.
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