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The ballet of a SilhouetteSlippers the colour of moonlight slide across the slicked wooden floor.
A skirt the shade of blood fans out with each step.
One twirl after the next- a slim back arching as toes leave the floor for a second.
Then they touch back down with the grace of an angel.
Hair glistening gold- no, bronze -flutters in waves to a small waist,
And illuminates the owner in a halo of light.
Pale skin stands out, flawless and youthful as it curves and dips with each movement.
Then vanishes past a smooth collarbone and beneath a corset that hugs the slim torso.
Eyes that shimmer with the brown of milk-chocolate focus on the lights above,
And cherry-painted lips part to exhale through two rows of ivory teeth.
A silhouette of beauty, of song, and an angel of delicacy,
Dives forward and arches out once more before landing with the gentleness of a swan,
Arms extended like the pale wings of the bird itself.
A chest heaves with exhaustion, but dewy skin glows with pride.
Applause erupts from the once-awestruc
I Can't Lose to You.My blood rushes.
My head is light.
I can't think straight anymore,
My only thought is; Fight.
Fight your criticism.
Fight your words.
Fight your taunting.
I hate myself like this,
Where all I see is red.
It only reminds me,
How I wish I were dead.
That way, I can hurt no one.
I can not give in.
I can not lose.
I can't. . .
I can't let you win.
I want to scream,
But I don't want to lose again.
It's Worth It
We walk alone
We hide our faces
We put on a smile
And go through each day as a shadow.
We are so busy making others happy
That we don't even try to cross our own abyss of challenge.
We can't balance on that wooden beam and so
We fall instead.
And we keep falling,
Unable to grasp our solid hold of the world
And we lose ourselves, relying on others
To catch us again.
Well I say forget that,
I will rely on you
But I will not be turned to scrap metal in the process.
I will continue across that beam
No matter what bullets you have to shoot me with.
And the day that I cross the abyss
Of people trying to drag me into its endless depths
Of sadness and self-ridicule
I will turn
And I will wave for you to follow,
Because I will give you a smile
And remind you that
It is worth the fight
It is worth the struggle to keep balance
But you must outstretch your arms
And walk with one foot in front of the other,
A straight line across the wooden beam
And as you cross
You will see the light
FrancexReader: Was I set up? Sitting on the meeting room, you let out an exaggerated sigh. Today was such a stupid day in which you gave to care to. Valentine's Day. And somehow, you managed to get dragged into a world meeting by Prussia and Spain.
Simply sitting there, you tried to ignore the hectic noises of arguments around you. The sad part was, this wasn't even the worst of it. The meeting hadn't even started yet.
You lay your head gently on your arms, you tried droning out the annoying and consistent yelling that was making your head pound. "Bonjour _______." A voice from beside you snapped you out of it.
Beside you sat the country of France; a very suave young man who thought not with his mind, but more with his heart...and other parts that shall not be named. His longish blond hair was pulled back into a small pony-tail and his blue eyes were shimmering as they usually did.
Holding out a rose to you, he grinned, brimming with confidence. "What are you doing here today of
Dark!FrancexReaderxAmerica for MoniXSakuI stare at my reflection in the mirror
Why am I doing this to myself?
Losing my mind on a tiny error
I nearly left the real me on the shelf
You sat slumped against the cold bathroom wall, knees drawn up against your chest, expression blank. The bright neon lights reflected harshly off of the white tiles covering the floor, the glare somewhat dissipating in the misty haze of steam that floated around the room.
You sighed deeply, chest constricting, a strong sense of hopelessness and helplessness crushing the very air from your lungs. You leaned your head against the cold tiles behind you, eyes closed. You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself letting Francis build you up and break you down time and time again.
You did everything to please him in the vain hope that he would finally see you as a person often doing things that almost made you lose who you really were. You honestly didn't even know why you were with the sadistic Frenchman anyway.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More