Photography

Traditional
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Literature

unoxygenated.your words hang like astral clouds in space, the pauses so filled with stardust
parted at your lips. i need you to tell me i'm as beautifully empty as space.
i need you to swirl my limbs into an Andromeda Spiral of yours, mark the scars
in shapes of constellations and explode a black hole in my head to devour all
thoughts into abyss. all of my emotions have been twisted and stripped by
intergalactic gases into a tangled cluster, my bones crumbling into an anaemic galaxy.
i need you to be that strong, ever-burning star in me, to never die and prove that
i am real and alive.

live wirethe live wire
untamed like
lightening
in a storm.
unclaimed like
currents
on a stream.
unnamed like
dangers
hitherto untold.
energy,
that wild music,
dances within.
melodies thrum
through
veins
and on
skin.
the electric pulse that
twists limbs with need,
sets teeth on edge,
laps bones like fire,
drives life to the very foot of the ledge.
a restless soul
bites and snaps
at borders and steel bars,
at flesh and bone,
demanding freedom
or death.
She is all these things,
and she is none.
She is the live wire,
the free spiri

The Banette KillerIt had happened again.:thumb163625587:
Another string of murdered trainers turned up, same as the last three. My God, I've never seen so many crimes.
Oh, where are my manners? My name is Looker, I'm a detective. After Team Galactic finally died down after the disappearance of Cyrus, things have gotten strange in this neck of the woods. Many dead trainers have been found near the Hallowed Tower and the little cemetery near it. People have made rumors about it being a Spiritomb, or the spirits of the dead being disturbed.
They must have not seen the cadavers. Each trainer had been stabbed into the brain with a large nail, along with needles through the eyes

implosionsthe whale ate my hunger
and now i'm a ghost,
pills setting off bombs
in the mine of my body
turning my blood toxic
and bursting the shafts
into a precarious spin.
i'll live in the spaces between
the walls without you
and pretend the stairs don't exist.
you're a tunnel behind my eyes
and it is starting to block my vision
between breaths and false eyelashes
-
sweat is not sweet and i'd like
you to stop
breathing
on
me.
lamb's nectar,
couldn't you tell me which road?
the signs are read backwards and i might be going blind today.
crowned with my own broken chair
i take the graveled road spelling east.
i might be b
Digital

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thank you, i really appreciate it
thank you, i really appreciate it