|one of these is still for sale. ask if you want it.|
Double Star SystemDark is the night sky,Double Star System by CATtheMinion
silver pools reflecting,
rinsing downy softness,
the twinkling light dries it,
snuggled warmly in its caresses.
Beauteous is the moon,
The stars twinkle approval.
A comet sears the curtain,
streaming its blazing fronds.
Fiery in the darkness,
Restless and bold,
striking static arches,
frantic lightning surges
at each tender kiss.
Warped ParadigmI have always regarded the thing known as "dating" to be unusual. In some ways it signifies a bygone era, the 1950s, of women at home and men providing financial support. I understand that times have changed in some respects and perhaps more people are "going dutch." But then again, more people are also "hooking up." Neither of these social constructs make any sense to me.Warped Paradigm by CATtheMinion
I have a male friend who specifically said that he felt like a dinner charity. That doesn't seem right to me, or fair. There is probably a venn diagram in which the circles intersect at women (usually women) expecting to be treated every time, and society having a history of telling us that is how it should be for at least a couple of generations. Having not experienced ritual courtship of even 100-200 years ago, I'm not sure if it bears much difference to dating of last century, aside from perhaps when you spent time with your sweetheart you would be at group social functions under the watchful eye of most of
ExpeditionWhen I was young and carefree,Expedition by CATtheMinion
you shone before me like a morsel of fresh meat,
and I a fledgling in the nest
springing with heightened vigor for my piece.
The green winds of spring turned.
The heat of summer burned all that was there
and I fell
dead and cold, for eternal winter.
I stay where I succumbed, covered in stone.
Come for me, I rise no more
Exhume my bones from the dust
My carcass cannot refuse you.
Adipose TissueMirrors have always been my enemy.Adipose Tissue by XxWonderlandxX
The hollow, faceless ogre that stares at me
with nonexistent, bulging eye balls
has always been my worst fear.
The veracity encompasses all reflective surfaces
and drowns me like unwanted kittens.
(Inhumane, it's so inhumane.)
Instead of skeletal fragments breaking out,
fat protrudes from around sockets and joints
and swallows my carcass like it's marshmallows,
because it is marshmallows, and potato chips,
and my tormentor is always hungry.
(Starving, starving for something - not food.)
Pretty. I wish I could be pretty.
Pretty like all the other dames, the ones hiding
on the other side of the glass. They roam
the city on the days that I come out
and they send me back into my hiding.
They send me back in front of the looking glass,
back to staring down the ghost within
the walls of my prison, my translucent cage.
(Pounding on the glass, pounding to escape.)
I can't escape.
|art that tickles my senses, by you, lovely deviants.|
I am from New Hampshire. I prefer to be called "Cat" on here. |
Tweet me twitter.com/#!/thecatcameback .
"lobster thermidor aux crevettes with mornay sauce, garnished with truffle paté, brandy, and a fried egg on top and "
I moved all my favorite little icon things to a comment in my gallery because i HATE it when a bunch of crap slogs down a page i'm trying to look at. You're welcome.