December Feature!

Each month our admins picks their favorites from the gallery, and we put them in the featured folder for a month.
And here they are, the December selection!



:thumb334437255: :thumb337346603: InvisibleIt was like something out of a dance.
She stood across the room, staring at him. He was washed in a cold white spotlight in an otherwise dark room. He wasn’t directly facing her, angled slightly away. The light slowly faded in around them.
It revealed two others with whom he was laughing and chattering. They all seemed very happy, but she couldn’t hear them. There was no sound except her footsteps, as she marched up to him. Then her voice: “Talk to me.”
She had spoken to him directly, but he turned obliviously and spoke to someone behind her. She readjusted, stepping in front of him again. “Talk to me!” He continued conversing with the other two.
“Listen.” He kept talking. “Listen! Talk to me!” The person directly behind her silently laughed.
She took his hand. “Hear me.” She paused, waiting for a response. But nothing.
Cold silence.
Her eyes welled up, and she angrily blinked away the tears. “Hear me! Please :thumb332183388: :thumb337110451: Dear Daddy's GirlDear Naive 15,  
You're ignorant as Hell.
You dress in baggy blue jeans, wear an oversized hoodie every day, and never let your hair down. Students at school, and even your mom, think you're gay… and you don't even know.
All of your classmates blame you for a burn book that circulated after that Mean Girls movie. Everyone thinks you're a jealous bitch and secretly they mock you. How can you not see that?
Your teachers are all positive that you cut yourself and that you're always on drugs. Even now you have no idea why they ask you to take your jacket off during class. Could it be that you always wear long sleeves?
It's okay, sweetheart. I had to find out the hard way, too.
Right now you're probably wishing your dad was home. He's the only one that will read your stories and tell you how creative you are. You don't have to beg him to watch movies with you, and he'll listen to your favorite songs without calling you suicidal. Right now, living wi Our DuetThe bar line starts the chords in the prelude
We had a harmony I can't forget
Your eyes accel. my tempo when you're cued
The timbre of my world in our duet
Your touch is the vibrato in your tone
Your smile, a romantic serenade
But then the key turns minor, darker, and
Legato measures are no longer played
The horns all rip and woodwinds start to trill
To build the dissonance and the fortes
Crescendo, held fermata, cutoff, still-
The symphony in your voice to end the phrase
Remember in the movements we're apart
The rhythm of your melody in my heart.
~M Letters Across the SkyDear Dusk,
It's not very strange, that I miss you. You were the closest thing to a friend I had. When you revealed your chosen path, it was a bit like a betrayal. I had known for months, of course, but I always hoped that maybe you would change your mind…that maybe, I could change your mind. So I showed you science and I told you about wonder. But in the end, only you could decide to see and to hear.
You obviously did not.
I knew it wouldn't matter. I knew we'd remain friends, that we'd be even closer as the years passed and you realized how much I valued your existence. I thought it might be better this way. You were the spiritual and I was the physical. You dealt in faith and I in knowledge. The eternal duality was perfectly represented between the two of us. Perhaps, the eternal struggle could finally be resolved between the two of us.
I was obviously wrong.
You chose to shut yourself off and to isolate yourself from us. Yes, I am a scientist. No, I do not agree with your bel Burnyou've run blind for miles on inches i handed you,
cut the road to ribbons with your crooked teeth.
driving through the night with your lights off
like a strung-out junkie with an apathetic death wish.
you're setting everything on fire and i'm tired of putting you out,
this time i'll let you burn because i've got no fucks left to give.
you drag your cocaine fingernails down the hallway walls
like an asylum patient taking the time to read your horoscope in the chipped-paint Braille.
the vacancy signs in your eyes contradict the medicated Chelsea smile,
tomorrow they'll find you hanging from sheets knotted to your bed rail.
you've blown out every candle for your fear of the sun,
now you're up to your throat in shadows. AngelThe few remaining trails of sunlight slipped between the trees in through the open window. He still was laying partially on top of her, keeping his arms tightly around her. They were both shaking, though not because of fear, nor pain. It was blissful. She felt herself shiver slightly, curling closer to him. He squeezed her tightly before moving and pulling a blanket over the two of them. He leaned down, kissing her gently before rolling towards the edge of the bed. She heard the flick of a lighter, a plume of smoke coming soon thereafter. She gave a small smirk and shook her head as he rolled over on his back.
"Those things'll kill you before you know it. There's a reason they're called cancer sticks."
"They won't kill me before you do."
"Oh, I'm sure."
"Yeah, it kills me every day I don't see you," he gave a teasing smirk.
"God, you're so full of it."
"No, I can't be. I'm an angel, I give everything to you."
"Oh yeah. An angel giving me secondhand lung cancer," she said, rolling her e :thumb327469469: :thumb338968144: :thumb338459352: Season to SeasonFrom  green,  to  gold  and  red
the  color  that  describes  autumn
begins  to  shed.
Like  rain,  the  leaves  dropped,
one  by  one.
Jumping  into  the  heaps
were  really  fun...
The  weather  is  already  cold,  fast.
Oh,  how  the  heat  has  whipped  past!
Each  day  I  walk  this  road  of  gravel.
I  see  the  changes.
Winter  slowly  unravels.
The  trees  are  now  bare,
and  brought  in  are  the  heavenly  snowfalls.
They  are  gone,
those  chirping  bird  calls.
Grab  some  hot  chocolate,
we'll  sit  by  the  warm  fire.
Sometimes  the  bitter  cold  out  there
gets  too  dire.
But  the  frozen Ophelia's MarchShe stands tall
Alone
Amongst the ashes
Of her all
A child in a misshapen form.
Spectres of memory
Melancholy
Joy
Adoration
Anguish
Cloud her countenance
Her eyes, bright and keen.
Scanning the horizon
She traces the unchartered peaks with her tongue
Delighting in the worn roughness
Of cracked enamel
And the taste of metal.
She is far
From her bloody body
Scarlet marring translucent white.
She takes a small, teetering
Step
Finding her new feet
Feeling the comforting crunch
Of Bone and sand and dust
She advances
Never
Looking
Back
Over
The
Edge
Of
The
World :thumb304688129:  :thumb339068120: :thumb336459333: :thumb337795635: :thumb316057850: :thumb299622396: :thumb339652609: :thumb339103564: 10 CutsOne for the love I once felt for you,
Two because I thought our love was true.
Three for how I let you play with my heart and mess with my mind.
Four because I thought I could change your ways.
Five for how much time I wasted on you,
Six because all you did is throw it all away.
Seven because everything we shared meant absolutely nothing.
Eight for the fact that I lost you,
and I can't do anything to get you back.
Nine because you chose her over me,
Ten because I'm sorry I am not perfect,
but trust me I will never stop loving you :thumb339698658: :thumb338289862: :thumb339539911: :thumb340147974:




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