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Literature
The Girl Led by Shadow
Once there was a girl led about by her shadow.
When it moved, she moved.
Where it went, she went.
What it did, she did.
It pulled her away from the rest of the world, dragging her off into its darkest corners, beckoning her away from the light that only burned her skin as it touched her.
While others saw themselves as children of the Sun, lit up by its brightness and worthy of its light, the girl was hit by its rays and was blinded, unable to face it, and incapable of seei
Literature
Vision of Love
It was a day like any other. Soon, people would be waking from their restful sleep, ready to continue with their mundane, little lives.
As I gaze out of my murky window, just like so many other days past, I can still feel her watching me. There's a comfort there, a chill, and perhaps even a little excitement. Her eyes always had a way of finding my deepest recesses. Even now, detached from their usual perch, they bore right through me.
Literature
Mommy loved...
Alright, we're going to go visit Mommy.
Why are we going?
Because it would mean a lot to her. She loved you.
No, she didn't.
How can you say that?
Because it's true. If she loved us, she wouldn't have left us.
That's not fair. She had a problem. She tried to give it up.
But she didn't. She loved the pills more than us. That's why she left.
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UPDATE: My piece was featured by DailyLitRecognition!
Thank you Steve-C2 for suggesting my piece, and thank you Naktarra for choosing Death Beads for the October 6th, 2014 feature.
Daily Lit. Recognition for October 6th, 2014Daily Lit Recognition for October 6th, 2014
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Recognition!
You can show your support bying this News Article.
Please comment andthe features and congratulate the artists!
Poetry
Featured by: AyeAye12
Lighting a Matchstick Against The Howling Wind by BackShelfSouvenir
Distinctly rhymed, distinctly brilliant.
Some great lines in this.
Suggested by: hopeburnsblue
Featured by: Medoriko
Courage by haphazardmelody
Suggester says: This power-packed
micropoem is full of hope and light,
reminding us that even the sun has to
break down barriers from time to
A short story inspired by the lovely, TwilightPoetess!
Complete at 2,511 words.
Death Beads began as a narrative poem and evolved into this romantic, dark… comedy.
I blame TwilightPoetess entirely. 
She recently posted this poll, asking the following question: "Due to budget cuts, Death has removed the "life flashing before your eyes" part of the process and replaced it with piles of colored hemp, a bucket of beads, and a few odds 'n' ends charms. You're allowed two colors and up to 3 beads or charms."
After responding to her poll and having a further convo with TwilightPoetess, I was inspired!
I started writing this short story yesterday and finished around 7 p.m. this afternoon [taking breaks to sleep, pee, and eat.] 
Despite it’s length - I hope you attempt to read it. I’m quite pleased with how it turned out and hope that you will honor me with your comments and critiques!
OfOneSoulCheck out some of TwilightPoetess’ amazing lit. pieces!
Parchment ThinYou left pencil lead bruises
smudged on my thin ivory skin,
your harsh fingers tracing the lace
of the baby doll lingerie
you pasted to my curves.
The angel wings
tied with tape around my shoulders
(the missing piece of innocence
you thought you could borrow)
weighed me down;
with flat eyes
and marker-blotted lips,
I watched you admire your handiwork.
A nimble flourish of knuckles later,
you slipped me between the plastic
of your photo album
and left my name dripping ink
in the corner--
just another parchment doll
too fragile for holding.
CensorshipEvery time you tell me
I need to
"let that shit go"
or
"quit holding a grudge,"
you stick another layer
of metaphorical duct tape
over my mouth.
The problem is,
you ask me what's bothering me
and push me to tell you
even when I know
you don't want to hear it.
Be careful, please.
Next time,
I might not tell you anything
at all.
Breathing RoomI leave chrysanthemums
scattered at your feet on tile floor
like the pencil shavings piled
on your desk.
"The flower of death,"
you murmur;
with Rorschach roses on your knuckles
and the hint of a warrior
in the line of your lips,
you sketch bears with open jaws
and black-shadow eyes
in the margins of your math book
with permanent ink.
The hooded abyss of your gaze
masks everything
you can't bring yourself to say:
Love is short
and prone to fading.
It's a good thing I don't mind breathing life
into negative spaces.
EDIT: 10/15/2014
I am slowly editing this piece and wanted to thank everyone that helps me make it an all-around-better-read.
leyghan, thank you SO much for the suggestion to make the sentence, "No, I'm you"... "No, I'm just like you.". It made a WORLD of difference and I truly appreciate the advice. 
Mature
© 2014 - 2024 OfOneSoul
Comments71
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Overall
Vision Originality
Technique ImpactI can see several areas that need to have gramatical assistance but I think I would rather focus on the overall impact of the piece <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="391" title=" (Smile)"/> So, I must admit I think that I needed a little more guidence where you were focusing in on the car. You seem to just suddenly continue the story without much explination that you rushed from the past into the present. I found myself partway through their dialogue before I realized what was going on. I admit that the idea of arts and crafts replacing the life flashing before your eyes because of budget cutbacks was quite humorous! I loved the comparison of her almost erotic love story bringing her to realize that she was dead to the pot head... Just make a fucking bracelet, AWESOME!