A huge thank you to my firends and watchers for all their support! Every month I will try to give back all this love with a big feature, including works suggested by you


_{The works are featured in random order, for variety. So sorry if I missed anyone, I'll make it up in the next article!}


Sit back and enjoy!



:thumb193414293: :thumb244080746: :thumb245541545: :thumb224691457: Unleash the Demon
The headlights of on-coming cars,
the tone in which the birds call,
they are all judging me;
judging with the same intensity I experienced
only in my growing up.
I don't use physical violence,
that look in your eyes,
questioning if I was really going to strike.
When I did, I didn't know how to deal.
I kept on with my assault,
and finally collapsed in fear and sadness.
You let me hit you,
with every bit of raw emotion
coursing wildly through my veins.
In your gaze, you asked me to unleash.
The demon broke loose from its chains.
Looking in the mirror,
I stared into the eyes of a stranger.
True friends do not let someone use them as a punching bag.
I didn't sleep at all, it seems.
If I did, it was only four hours.
Tell me, where do we go from here? Face In the Reflection
This face in the reflection is nothing but a monster.
You let your rage take over just once, and after,
a debilitating shockwave of fear
and embarrassment/disgust in yourself knocked you to the ground.
As you cried uncontrollably,
you became aware of the demon unleashed.
The face in the mirror is now a familiar stranger. :thumb243793682: :thumb244550476: :thumb215963892: mercyrazor-sharp cheekbones rip flesh to shreds; acidic tears devour integrity. i am detestable. devastated.
ceaselessly, you ravage me. bulimia nervosa, in d minoryou're very pretty, in a heart-wrenching kind of way.
your scrawny arms, usually sporting silver or gold bracelets which look more alive than you sometimes, your skin is so frighteningly pale.
he loves you, you know.
yes. you know.
your arms lead up to your shoulder blades, like branches on a delicate tree. a willow.
a weeping willow.
shoulder blades. razor sharp, those, sticking out of your back as if they had been wrenched apart and away
from you.
he wonders whether you want to fly. one day you told him,
sometimes, i'd like to fade away. have you ever thought of that? just close my eyes and disappear.
i wouldn't die, no, not exactly. i would still feel the wind blowing through my hair, i would still see the grass rustling, maybe i could even stand up and feel
it beneath my feet. i love the feel of dew, you know. it's such a gentle complement to the scratchy blades.
you always go off on tangents such as these. other roads. other ways. other trains
of thought. you aren't very
concrete, :thumb204989630: :thumb212651535:

Mature Content

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Previous Volumes

Watchers' features - July 2011
Watchers' features - June 2011