Perrelle

My heart is full; it's overflowing pouring into my arteries my veins my skin is flush with it my eyes weep with it my lips are wet with it i am infused with it i am infused with you and you are in all of me

As the music plays, hard and fast, the younger ones dance. At the height of life, emotional and full of vigor, they easily fit in to the swaying, swirling mass. The bright colours of capes and feathers, hats and skirt hems fly by, flashing in and out of the crowd. Candlelight dances across the shining surfaces of rings and necklaces, gems and jewels, trinkets, baubles, and the twinkling eyes of a hundred smiling youths. The music slows. They take their places and slide into the graceful positions of this new dance. The pattern takes form, merges, separates, seems to collide, twists, dips and swings away. Stately steps come faster now, then

In my heart, I remember a time when a person was judged on the morality of their actions, not the deceptive artifice of their words. Manners were a way of life, and instilled for respect of oneself and others. Talent was praised in equal proportion to hard-earned skill. There was always a right or wrong thing to say or do. The world came in black and white, and anything in between was put to the test, judged, and relegated to either side. Honour was more than just a word on a page. It was the deciding factor in every one of your actions. It was not just an idea or a concept, it was your life and how you lived it. Honour, and courage, and br

Kaitlyn knew she had a problem. It was psychological, she was sure. That didn’t make it any easier. Ever since the . . . attack (she supposed that was what she should call it). Ever since the attack . . . she had changed. Everything was so . . . different. She was losing weight, she couldn’t eat normal food any more, and what she did eat, she couldn’t keep down. She was getting sickly, and she was always frightened. She could barely bring herself to leave the house, even when she knew it was safe. She couldn’t look her friends in the eye anymore. Her whole family was worried about her. They were even asking her to move bac

It is the will of the people It starts slowly, a gathering like storm clouds on the horizon. They move as one They speak as one Their voices rise over the pounding of their footsteps as they draw closer Sounds of thunder and shrieking winds Battering against the door Crashing into it, seeking entrance The storm hits Lightning strikes, the rain slashes down like needles There is blood on the streets Buildings engulfed in flame In the center of the maelstrom, a voice rings out The word spreads fast It is done Anger sated, the storm breaks A new leader arises You cannot defy the will of the people

I gaze at the sky, And see the stars, they glitter, Like my empty dreams.

Insignia of a shy girl, Sky blue on chocolate skin, Simplistic beauty, product of her mind, Belied by humble demeanor. Marked. "You are mine now," she says. "This is for my friends." I met her yesterday, She drew it on my arm this morning.

Bright light shines in the darkness, Of a soul forgotten. Downtrodden, tarnished, and alone, Through layers of grime, The light shines through.

There was a girl with porcelain skin, Eyes like flashing opals, Swirling black hair, A smile like wildfire and poison, Her laughter was ringing bells that shook me to my core, Her love was molten lava flowing through my veins, One week, One week when she was mine, and mine alone, She showed me the beating of her heart, and held my hand while we slept, For one week I shared her with no one, I ache, wishing I could have that time again to live over, No more, She walks alone now on a path I cannot follow, A path where I do not belong, I walk along my own path, and watch her walk on hers, She turns to me and reaches out across a gu