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GLACE: a yaoi romance 1GLACE
~A Yaoi Romance~
I sigh as I begin to unpack the box of canned food. I am already exhausted from my morning job; I deliver newspapers to local stores. After delivering the papers I check back in with the office, then I head home and take a shower, eat, then driver over to this grocery store. Once Im done here I have about a two hour break to rest. Later I head over to an office building where I work as a janitor.
I dont particularly enjoy any of these jobs, but they are all Ive got. Without them I would not be able to live on my own like I do. With these jobs I am able to buy my food, pay my rent and my odd number of bills. I can also feed my silky black cat, Shadow. I understand the jobs I do are needed parts of my life, without them I would not be as well off as I am. Ive been working since I was fourteen years old; at a grocery store, but not this one. When I was seventeen I moved out of my mothers house and moved out into my own little apartment
AkuRoku - Another Life - Chap4---------------
What could I say? With him staring at me with those eyes that have haunted me for years. The way he smiled his knowing and slightly arrogant way. It was everything I'd been hoping for since I decided that I wouldn't be happy until I met my dream friend. I was jumping to tell him that yes! That was my name. I was Roxas, I'm the one he's had to have been looking for. I'm the one… I am….Just say the words… say the words and tell him exactly what he and I needed to hear.
"I don't know what you mean. I…. I don't know that name. My name's Corey. Not Roxas. Never known or met anyone by that name." My teeth found my bottom lip, the part of my mind that still denied my dreams had won victory over my ability to speak. I looked down the moment I noticed the happy gleam fade from those beautiful eyes.
"Oh… my…. my mistake then. I'm sorry Corey. You just kind of… remind me of someone really dear to me." His voice sounded so sad that I couldn't help but loo
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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