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 February selection!



:thumb331567324: :thumb348591519: :thumb348704564: R.I.P WordsDo you know what it feels like?
To feel something, but...
be unable to express what it is;
to be silent;
to fight it alone.
I know how much it hurts,
but I don't know how to show it.
Poetry used to be my refuge,
a place where I could be alone -
express all my emotions,
without being judged.
I'm losing it.
I can't connect to poetry.
Everything sounds so stupid...
Everything I write sounds stupid.
I have to erase all my feelings,
because they don't sound right.
The words aren't real.
They don't show what I feel
And maybe this will be the last.
Maybe I'm gone:
lost of all emotions.
I'm truly alone...
I used to have poetry.
Now I have nothing. :thumb271340882: :thumb350381466: :thumb350086545: :thumb350956527: There was a time before Moria fellIn here rests a piece of Dwarven lore
about the purest vein of mithril ore
found deep within the rocky earth
not too far from its molten core
Down, down in to the depths we tilled
with desires of empty pockets to be filled
So far beneath our burning hearths
hauling up stone and gems to be milled
A blinding light then pierced the dark
"Cannot be real!" We thought, "Just a lark."
Falling hammers and chisels soon gave birth
The expectations soared beyond their mark
Its lustrous gleam of pale radiance
left us in an inescapable of trance
"Just look at this vein, look at its girth"
We dug till we could craft mithril pants
But shadows filled their gold laden hearts
and crimson fires flared through ancient arts
before they could proclaim an age of joy and mirth
The Balrog of Morgoth had come to play it's part
The cracking whip, its fires flared
A searing sword, Dwarves in cloven pairs
What could this vein possibly be worth?
We ran with tooth and nail up the layers
Some fled, many died but our That Girl In The MirrorHappiness will remain forever out of reach
When love from your life you omit
To the girl in the mirror; you are beautiful
Yet somehow you never quite fit
Not the girl they thought you’d turn out to be
When you were a neonate child
Born with a raging heart and a raging mind
But with a manner ever so mild
Your scars aren’t always visible to them
And not only hidden under attire
Lacerations to the mind are just as abhorrent
When memories and dreams conspire
So girl break the mirror if you have to
And reflect on your life as a whole
Do you really want to spend the rest of your days
Behind a façade of self control?
Please be strong enough to go your own way
Indeed go against the grain
In your field of dreams stand up and be counted
And maybe others will do the same
You are unique and you are so beautiful
You’re everything someone else is not
The light of your reflection will shine on
Through the looking glass your childhood begot Driving LessonsSunday afternoon, July 15th
"So you mind telling me what happened again?"
"I was punching my father in the head when I managed to ram into the damn pole, okay?!"
"Why were you punching your father?"
"Because he is an idiot, all right?! If you had to handle his crap for the past nine years, you would wanna hit him, too!"
"Look, what happens in your family stays in your family, kid."
Isshin pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that even thought Ichigo respected the law, there was only so much of the police and their frustration he could handle. "Ichigo, call Yuzu and tell her we'll be late. I'll handle the rest of this."
Ichigo gave a look of pure joy at that before jogging away from the mess of police cars, an ambulance, and their ruined mini-van.
It had started out as a simple outing an hour earlier. Isshin treated Ichigo to a nice birthday lunch at his son's favorite Chinese place, Ichigo getting a rather cryptic (and strange, as far as he was concerned) fortune cooki

Mature Content

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