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Escape this reality with your headphones
Even if her name is carved into your bones
Don't forget to write this poem
Because that's the only thing you can do
When the only color you can see is blue
And this loneliness sticks to you like glue
But you try to pull away
Hoping to find a way
But you end up with noting to say
And your mind drifts to her
And your hearts about to commit murder
And everything is really just a blur
Because you can't sing her song
And you can't play a long
Because you know it's wrong.
Because she'll see through your lie
And won't even ask you why
She'll just say bye.
First you'll have to change
And you might think this is strange
but this silly goal is out of range.
Second cut the sin out of your life
But the only tool you have is a dull knife
No wonder she'll never be your wife.
Thirdly you have to have a pure soul
And in order for that you have to be whole
So you'll never reach your goal.
Next you have to knock at her door
Beg and grovel on the floor
It's there.It's there
There's a lingering feeling in the air
It's making me and you dare
I wonder if it makes you care
I wonder if you ever think about me
Am I something you can ever see
Or am I just another annoying flea?
These thoughts run through my head
And I cringe at all the things I ever said
I wonder if it left you seeing red.
But that would mean I touched your emotions
Do you wonder if I'm drowning in your ocean
I wonder if I should start a commotion
I wonder if that would make you glance
Or will it possibly enhance
our chance of romance.
But I'm not on the same level as you.
But I could be up there too
I wonder if that's true.
Because I live in a world of sin
And I hide behind a fake grin
Do you ever wonder what's really within?
Can you look past a life that I've scorn?
Can you look past a heart that's been torn?
Do you even wonder why I look at animated porn?
Can you love someone who was never real?
Can you accept what I even feel?
Do you ever wonder about scars that can't heal?
A Ring, A Kiss, and a Broken Engagment.A ring, A kiss, and a Broken engagement
I had a dream the other day
And it touched me in an odd way
But I found it hard to say
Because it was rather bright
And there was only one thing in sight
And it was you Ms. Wright
And I felt like a king
Because you had something to bring
It was a simple ring
A kind of ring that came in a pair
But the other one wasn't there
But you didn't seem to care.
But you had a smile
And I felt embarrassed for awhile
And you could add this to your file
But you wanted that thing
And my engagement was a fling
Cause you were the true owner of that ring
And you wanted a simple kiss
And I could take the risk
And embark on this trist
But I woke up instead.
I shook my head
And dismissed what my dream said.
Because I already gave that ring
To an eternal spring
And I thought I didn't have to worry about a thing
But that was a cruel lie
Because that spring had to go and die
And I found myself asking why
Because I received a letter
That left me feeling cold even with a
The Closest I ever got.The Closest I ever got.
I had a dream a couple nights back
It was about what I lack
It reminded me of already known facts
I dreamed of her face
I dreamed we were in the same place
And there was no me, not a single trace
Instead it was something she wanted me to be
The fashionable and cool me
I wonder if I can ever be he
I stood up in front of her Congregation.
I talked about my salvation
I talked about my motivation.
She said it had been years
Since that I've been near
She couldn't help but cheer.
She dragged me to a closet
Held onto me like a precious locket
And we went off like a rocket
I tasted her lips.
I placed my hands on her hips
From her dress I took a dip.
I could feel her underwear
I was almost there.
Until I open my eyes and saw what the ceiling had to bare.
And I was brought to a reality cold
And the lingering feeling was quite old.
Even in dreams where I was bold.
I could never quite get it.
No matter how much I threw a fit
I still was only a worthless piece of shit.
Not Even in my DreamsNot Even in my dreams
I follow your post on facebook
I never leave a word only a look
I guess that makes me a crook.
But you look rather joyful
In a life you call wonderful
But I think I had my full.
Because I can't take it any more
I can't open your closed door
I'm tired of sleeping on the floor.
I'm tired of thinking about the choices
And listening to my doubting voices
While I watch you rejoice.
Yeah, I'm bitter and you don't have a clue
Because you can't see the invisible world of blue
So you should just keep on walking through.
Because I got nothing left for you in my heart
Your rejection made a piece of art
Or maybe a car that just won't start
Now I'm going to start calling you names
Because I'm just that lame
But your the one who fanned these flames
You're a bitch
An ugly witch
A dead snitch.
You're guilty of casting a devilish spell
You illegally locked me in a cell.
With a wink you through me down a well.
And occasionally you come back to laugh at me
And bring your friends to
I have a job with money
I have a beautiful honey
And the sky is still sunny
Yet I can't seem to smile.
In my head I walk miles.
And all my writing ends in a trash pile.
All these feelings in my head
All the sleepless nights on my bed
Everything I ever said.
What was it all for?
When they just ask for more.
I felt this feeling before.
I try to hide it behind a girl
Who I claimed to be my world
But I won't buy her a pretty pearl
It made me not text her for a couple of days
I really had nothing to say
But I end up texting her the third day anyways
Because I was tired of the gloom
And all this stupid doom
I felt like I was going to pop like a balloon
But she only said a few words
That wasn't heard
Because I'm not part of her herd
I can't dance around in the sun.
I can barely have fun
I would rather shoot myself with a gun.
But she will never know.
And as always I'll go along with the flow.
So, it won't show.
Because depression can be quite delightful
And sadness can be beautiful
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever and
crossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,
I could only believe those words
lodged in your heart
like they did mine
because every time I think back
I can't help but remember the
under star lit constellations,
and study sessions where we
learned more about each other
than we did Biology
but now it's clear
that each beat of your heart
has made those words fade,
and you could care less
about crossed pinkies
but I'll still see you,
and hear your voice
and I'll still wish
the meaning hadn't changed-
At peace within this tranquil garden,
I picture the moments where I've made you smile.
Those times are endlessly precious to me,
I think they're worth the while.
They're worth the time I've spent with you,
Even if it wasn't long.
I only wish I'd spent a little more,
Before our love was gone.
Forgiveness takes twoThe words are struggling
to tumble off my tongue,
and despite having
a fleshy cushion
to rest on,
they stain my teeth
and sting like acid
"I'm sorry," I stutter,
but the bitter taste
doesn't leave my tongue-
not because the words weren't true,
but because I know
I won't hear,
She's an artistShe's an artist.
Always seems to be daydreaming,
She draws to escape her pain.
Cause for a single moment,
When her work is done.
It seems like there is no more rain.
And she could finally touch the sun.
The one that shines so brightly in her paintings.
But then it's gone,
So she keeps drawing,
She's become good at escaping.
Running from reality.
Because dreams are the only things she wants,
Her imagination is the only thing she's ever known.
And it's sad really...
Because she tries so hard to be happy.
But the most beautiful thing she could ever create.
Was that smile upon her face,
And that is the one thing that remains blank.
Waiting to someday be something more than,
Mommy Is A Super HeroMommy Is A Super Hero
Standing before his class, he held his tiny report,
“Who is your super hero?” Was written in yellow chalk on the green board.
Exhaling his breath, the curly haired boy closed his little eyes,
“Don't be ashamed of yourself” His mother's words rung in his ears, “And don't ever cry.”
He began to read aloud, with a shaky voice.
to his class, he told his mother's story.
At age fifteen, she was a beauty queen,
the most beautiful girl in all of the world.
She flaunted her silky hair, bore her bare legs,
prided her breast. The boys treated her like she was a treasure chest.
They respected her rules, they “looked, but didn't touch”,
but there was one older man, who from her, wanted too much.
All alone he met her, he approached her in the alley,
and all his mother told him, was that this man had treated her badly.
But what the boy didn't know was that she was taken against her will,
and that two months later, she turned up ext
Still HereSuicide is a
Thought that frequently lurks
In my mind, wich
Lets it overcome the
Laughter and happiness
Here I still fight, however
Enduring this sad life
Reviving my hopes
Embracing the gift of life
cenotaph of stormsthe first thunderstorm
was triggered by a blunt pair
of scissors, sparking violently
against the lightning,
shaking in the wind.
the downpour pierced,
tattooed with no ink but
the dark bleakness
of an overcast morning,
infiltrating uniformed wrists.
hid behind the music block,
shaky raindrops rioting
fears, she fractured.
the second storm
wept a two year downpour
outline that dripped from wrist
to hip, sidelong silhouette glances
obscured by the rain.
stalictidal waves shuddered
frozen, until icy glass
fell in stained shards from
the stillness inside.
thinner, brittler, growing
in flurries of sleet and hail,
her outline was never filled,
though the floods threatened
the third thunderstorm
was a mist-ridden melancholia,
a dream for permanence
smeared in ink through
fueled by the hope
that just this once,
the rain would spark a
rebirth beneath the ground.
instead, a tsunami
washed away the ink
as tides so often do.
smotherher spine was dusk
and unmade nests,
but he tried to live there
he was neither nocturnal
nor a dawn-believer,
so he suffocated
in the birdhouse of her ribs.
between my vertebrae, you are (cemeterial)oh, these writers never speak; they
claw words out of bird carcasses,
poets pecking viscera like necropolitans.
they count their ribs to remind you
of a corpse or of a matchstick. dry bones
between fissured wrists & funeral pyres,
these have been dying days &
they're all mortuaries.
For Your SoulFor your soul
He ignores you during the day
You look at him and he turns away
He's the reason why you end up this way
Struggling for something at night
Struggling with all your might
There's nothing in sight
A picture of him in your hands
Tonight like every night you'll love will stand
Now enter into your own fantasy land
Now begins the first touch
It's not much
So it's not enough
Your fingers are cold
Your pleasure is untold
Your need this more then gold
Your breathe increases and you quicken the pace
Your imagining his face
Right now, he's in this place
Right now he's on top of you
Doing what he should do
Something that will never be true
In reality your a wreck
But right now he's kissing your neck
While your fingers go uncheck
In reality your not the one
But right now you've won
You and him are one
Now your out of breath
Now you wish for death
Because this emptyness is what left
But you need to be whole
So you masturbate for your soul
No one will ever know.
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More