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Item #: P3T (“Patches”)
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:
Subject needs to be kept in a four by five meter room with jean fabric on all walls; floors are carpet. It can have any type of lighting or any temperature.
Subject request small couch made of various materials. Granted.
Subject request to see SCP-D13 once a week. Granted.
Subject resembles a small boy with snow white hair and looks like it has stitches on its mouth. SCP-P3T is 1.06 m. tall and 22.6 kg. Its eye color is unknown as it will not allow scientists to look at its eyes. It wears an orange jacket with one sleeve shorter than the other. It has multiple patches fabric over its body to replace skin. Wears grey blind fold whenever scientist are in the containment room, must knock on door before entering. It wears pink socks; don’t remove under any circumstances. It has no feet, socks filled with cotton.
Body parts are very sensitive, and sometimes fall off. Subject can
Rage In The LakeJust watching you dwellers walk around
But can’t you sea that I’m stuck in this lake
I’m stuck because I can’t breathe up there
No one pays attention to me because I’m quiet
You people make my fins flare up in anger
With your role-playing and filling up your quadrants
But there is nobody in here
In my little lonely lake
I try to talk to you all but you people push me aside
I’m just a stupid lake dweller and I don’t know anyfin
Yeah I know I can be a little slow
I sometimes to forget to breathe
But that doesn't give you the reason to look down at me
I know I’m a little odd but I’m higher than you all expect one
I’m king of the lakes so don’t think I go easy on you
You are not aware of my rage that is build up in this lake
Man in woman's shoesWhen she looks in the mirror she sees a man.
His head held up high and he has whatever he dared to dream.
But when she looks down she sees a woman.
Whose head is tilted and barely even there.
She urges to be this man she sees.
But what will her family think?
What will her boyfriend think?
Will she have to find a new family, a new loved one?
A man walking in woman's shoes
That's what she feels.
A man that has to wear woman clothing.
A man that bleeds once a week each month.
A man that has been knocked down because he’s the opposite gender.
Where people think he can’t survive on his own because breast lay upon his chest.
Where wearing makeup is the only thing that can make him pretty or beautiful.
All he wants is to live in world where he can actually be a man and not a woman.
That’s all she, no he, wants.
A world that can love him for him.
Not where he gets knocked down and beaten for wanting to change.
Thurkear miirikKwi nhee vrak hush
Sia nhee dretri
Ssifisv dout saurivic vur wurunwa di aurix
Ssifisv dout fothisev acht wer svant
Si geou ssejinw wer l'graic mrith sia nhee miirik
Hush sia danthe thric rigluin ekess l'gra
Dask geou troth jacioniv vrak
Jaka ssifisv vur wurunwa di aurix
Si geou clax wer whedabra vur fold
Xurwk mitne sari coi
Vi isk ihk wux
Vi regipre mel'thurkear
Ssifisv sia moxt vrak
Vi z'ar treskri itheikic persvek wer z'ar mitne
Nhee vrak ssifisv
Mobi thric dril ekess resist
Dask nishka troth persvek wer thurkear
Wurunwa di aurix nhee vrak
Ditch DemonsShe tried to climb out but nothing work
Her nails digging into the dirt walls
Her face beaten up
Blood slowly dripping from her mouth
All she wanted was to be happy
But she was thrown in the ditch
Beaten and crushed
Only to be left with her monsters
Spitting out words and curses
Them repeating negativity that was coming
Digging their nails into her back
Sorrow and agony being injected into her veins
No matter how much she screamed
No one came to save her
Just left her there
Hurt and bleeding
The ThirdsWe didn't mean too, it just happened
I just wanted to help
I wanted to be left alone
I just wanted to kill
But we couldn't decide which side we'd be on
We spilt ourselves into three
But we couldn't be our own
All I wanted to was help but it fell apart
I just wanted to hold you and understand
But two-thirds of me didn't care
I was afraid that you would leave me for her
She hurt you but you kept talking about her
A third of me cares
A third of me doesn't give a shit
And the other hates you
I just wanted to be left alone
But I was given this stupid job
How can I keep this thing equal?
When I just panic and run around
I didn't want to talk people but they pester me
I hide away from all the things I don't like
Hide from the world for it can kill me
I can't take much more so I'll just disappear
I hate you all
I want you all dead expect one
You people are so imperfect
I can't trust you for I know you'll kill me
You all are out to get me
So I'll get to you first
No one can stop me expect this
What would be the pointWhat would be the point?
Your heart can't stop bleeding
Then why try to sow it up
What would be the point?
If you couldn't breathe
Then why try to take a deep breathe
What would be the point?
If your mind was broken in pieces
Then why try to solve it and put it back together
What would be the point?
If you couldn't feel and understand
Then why try to have sympathy
What would be the point?
If you were hurt and bruised
Then why try getting up and only to fail
What would be the point...?
Fake a Smile for Today and ForeverShe was okay for the first days
Then she slightly fell across the floor
Skidding across bleeding a bit
She got up and proceeded to only fall
Placing a smile on her face she went on her day
But when the night comes she's a totally wreck
Her wounds open and cause her to cry
No butterflies to comfort her to bed
No sweet words to encourage her to sleep well
She becomes a prisoner of her mind
Her beautiful world now destroyed
Her emotions cutting her throat
But in the morning she's fine
People can't tell that this happening
And she can't explain if she tried
Promises to her are breaking
Her heart is breaking
But she just smiles and goes on with her day
Annoying Little HoarderMy sweet little bird sings to me
I love to hear my bird sing
You wish you had a bird like mine so I shared
But little did I know that you were a hoarder
At first I didn't mind you listening to my birds songs
Then I felt like my bird no longer loved me
But now I feel pure anger and annoyance
Whenever I try to take my bird back you pull its wings
Causing my beautiful bird is not able to fly back
Sometimes my bird calls to me
But you silence it and push me away
It my bird not yours
Have you not forgotten who let you borrow it?
Has anybody not taught about give it back of what you borrowed?
Are you so blind that cannot see my anger arising?
And how dare you not speak to me or thank me!
I could easily take my bird back and lock it away
But I will not for I want my bird to be free
But seriously you need to give me back my bird
Or find your own
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
the only letter I've ever wanted to burni.
if you want to give someone the silent treatment,
the first step is shutting up.
things made much more sense
when I was younger.
I thought there was one path,
each choice a stepping stone upon it.
in reality there are a million roads
intertwined like rope.
I got lost
I chose you.
promises are easily broken.
I knew that,
but it still hurt
spending friday night
shivering in the rain,
choking on cannabis perfume
in a dirt parking lot
your face never graced.
and I hoped against hope
you might appear,
but I wasted my wishing
on ungrateful you.
you died before taking your first breath.
I took a chance
and I should've known better.
you can give somebody all you have
and nothing can stop them from
throwing it away.
you've made this bed,
now lie in it.
you slit this suture,
you're the goddamn reason
I gave up on the month of april,
and soon enough you'll fall on your own blade
like some drunken samurai.
if you want
Die AloneI take apart her heart
And lay the pieces down
In a circular form.
Let her bleed a work of art.
I forgot I’m crazy.
I’ll whisper my secrets
Only if she promises
To die here alone with me.
.What do you want to be when you grow up?
They ask it like a dare.
As if letting your unlikely dreams
slip from the safety of your mind
could bring their own
a little closer to reality.
car crash on an empty roadit happened before
we did. it was more a person
than you or I or that boy
in the park trying
to convince us to
stupid. it happened
before your smile
cracked the sky in half, before
our laughters slurred into
a dissonant song, before
your fingers traced the stories
lying on my face before I knew
just how many pieces of sunshine
were trapped in your hair before
the walls became the ceiling and
I wasn’t claustrophobic.
things I remember:
the red blur of your room like
God was experimenting with the
symbolism in modern art, the
tri-tone shimmering of your eyes
like the surface of the water, the way
you defined perfection as a scale of
women ending with a less than sensible
me, the way you always moved like
you were dancing and no one was there to
RelativityLooking in the mirror
through the mirror
seeing a stranger,
My chest swells and my heart lurches
This girl isn't me, not at all
She looks like someone
but not me.
A movie star, a homeless person.
Even when I look at photos
no memory comes up
no allowing for the thought that I have a body
Or that the cold of my fingertips,
the throb of anxiety inside my ribs
I see my arm, an armband
A scar, a vein, a ring that has no meaning
But it did, to this girl in the mirror
Even if memory fails
Existence is relative
Dizzy Girl,you can't cure sorrow. The drops
on the windshield are swallowed
by this traffic's color and you
are just the driver.
Other people pass
with paint blearing,
though I do wish
there was an ending,
questions spark in halos
of low street lamps as you veer
toward the center,
recollections are ceaseless.
She will be at your left and the gust
through the tinted window
will be humid,
you taste her last spirit
in the smoke and
What Writers AreWriters are people from
both ends of the spectrum.
Those that know isolation
and the thoughts that follow.
Those that know enlightenment.
And those with nowhere else to go,
but deeper down the rabbit hole.
Writers are smiths of the word,
using imagination, experience,
and emotions to temper the
glass and steel we are given.
We fill the page with pieces
And writers are Gods.
Broken or whole or
barely scraping through.
We make you see our world.
We make you feel and care.
All with a bunch of lines,
which we have given life.
Helping handsDrowning the fears
Drowning the yells
Drowning the sorrow
Drowning the drama
I think I have surely fallen
But I feel hands trying to stop my fall
These hands are my friends
They are afraid to lose me to my self
They know that I can not be trusted when I'm depressed
They are the only ones who I really think care
They never gave up on me and never will
I thank them for that
For I know if it wasn't for them I would not be here
I would be in the deepest part of hell
Burning all alone
I great to have friends
But sometimes I do wish I didn't
Too see where I would've end up
But I shall never know for I can never leave them
They're to dear to me
Keep in Touch!
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