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StainedShe is stained.
She spends hours under a constant stream of steaming water, scrubbing, scrubbing till she bleeds.
But she is still not clean.
She is stained.
She tosses and turns at night, trying to push the images out of her head.
She wants nothing more than to be a normal teenage girl, awake at night for an unrequited crush, or a traitor of a friend.
But she can't have that. She never will.
She is stained.
She flinches at the slightest touch, backs away from the slightest gesture.
She knows that they will conjure the images again, the ones she so desperately wants to forget.
But she also knows that it is a lost dream, a mindless desire.
She is stained.
Beautiful EyesThey speak to me, spilling your secrets, opening your soul.
There's nothing you can hide in your beautiful eyes,
As golden and magical as the morning sunrise.
They're a kaleidoscope of emotion.
Whispers of unwritten stories in each little fleck of green,
Murmuring tales of broken hearts, visits to the between.
The depth of your pain, your albatross
Spins in those eyes, plunging down, down, fathomless;
Yet, they sparkle at a distance, boundless, fearless.
I drown in those eyes, listening eagerly to the stories.
I am lost in your ageless soul...
her own face
Grimacing at the
Time after time
to tell her
Typical.Splish, splash through gentle rain,
I make my way to try to gain
Just one quick glance at your smiling face,
Before vanishing without a single trace.
For if you know that I've been here,
The mask would fail to shield my fear.
Even without that, my heart's awfully loud;
I'm sure you'd hear its relentless pound.
I accomplish the mission and sneak away,
But my breath's still rugged after one whole day.
What is it about that mischevious smile
That makes my quests always worthwhile?
I must apologize for this typical rhyme;
It's hardly what one could call divine.
I scoffed at a similiar verse not long ago
So imagine my shock at being its echo.
Now, dear reader, I must close and say:
Goodbye and good luck with your loving days.
For mine have come and will surely go
With my chance at love remaining zero.
BeautyOnce upon a dream there was a boy
who whispered metaphors into his blankets
in the dead of the night. he pǝuɹnʇ them
over and twisted them and s t r e t c h e d them
searching for the melody that would define him.
what he didn't know is that his ears were traitors;
they rejected every rhyme without a trace of shame
and never allowed him to realize that his melodies
were real music, were beauty and love woven
into delicate threads; he only heard cacophony.
night after night he struggled and agonized
never satisfied with any combination of notes
always concluding that he was inferior to the world.
on the other side of the fence, close and far away
a girl with with stars in her eyes cried; her tears
were of the purest silver, the plainest pain.
she cried for verses lost to the valley of her strife
for missed opportunities and bro/ken hearts of iron.
their paths strayed along the leafy jungle of time
l i t t e r e
Shh. (Extension II)Shh, to hear the silent scream
of the girl you used to be.
Don't blink; she'll flash before your eyes.
To let her escape would not be wise.
She's a monster, built of tears and pain.
She'll rip at your soul till no joy remains.
She's out of control, a tangled mess,
Screaming for sorrow, for pain, distress.
It's imperative to keep her locked in cage,
Sealed with your agony, your accumulated rage.
Remember: she'll hurt them, too,
the ones who mean so much to you.
For however you choose to lock her away,
She will demand of you what you cannot pay.
Dialogue: Indifference"She's going to forget about you."
"It's true. You may think you guys are going to survive this, but you won't. No one does."
"What she and I have is special."
"That's what you think, sitting here in this tiny classroom in the middle of nowhere, while she's an ocean away having the time of her life."
"She had more fun here than she's having right now over there. She said so, and she'd never lie. And while we're at it, just say her name, would you? Sydney is not going to forget about me."
"Yeah, that's what Sydney will say, while she's adjusting. Wait till she finds a place there, and you know she will - she's that girl no one can hate."
"She and I understand each other, and we've both been through this before. We've both lost best friends to distance. We won't let it happen to us. Always a skeptic, aren't you? Why can't you ever believe in love?"
"She doesn't love you."
"Now that is absolutely ridiculous. Of course Sydney loves me."
"Even if she does, she'll get too
Shh. (Extended)Shh, and hear the silent scream
Of the girl you used to be.
Blink; let her flash before your eyes
Let her smile take you by surprise.
Isn't the sight of those curved lips strange?
Stranger - how quickly this life can change.
Notice how she doesn't reek of pain.
The purity of her soul is difficult to obtain.
Wait...do echoes of the past have a soul?
Take Me To the NightTake me into the night,
When the city's lit so bright
That the stars are faded behind the light.
This darkness is beautifully sweet;
Let's hide inside it, inside our dreams,
Show me that you're what you seem.
Count the stars with me, my dear.
Though this request may sound quite queer
It's only to keep you longer here.
Are you feeling the adrenaline rush?
Does the darkness hide my reddish blush?
It arises at your gentlest touch.
Let's walk in the light of the half-moon.
My feet are floating, light as a balloon
And so are yours, I presume?
So, without futher ado,
Take my hand before these shady hues
Fade, ending my night with you.
Hanging by a MomentI will always wonder what she was thinking that day.
Though I wasn't the kindest or bravest,
Nor was I the smartest or most charming,
For some reason, on that day, she chose me.
I was plenty surprised to say the least;
Certainly with her charm, beauty and wits,
She could have had anyone in the world,
And yet she choose me, a spoony poet.
It was as if an occult hand swooped from
The heavens and turned her gaze towards me,
For it could have only been divine work,
To make me worth an angel's attention.
Here I am, clutching to that memory,
Hanging by a moment.
a silent reminder of
all the nights
she spent in
Be Mine ForeverHold me tight; stroke my hair,
Kiss my lips and twirl me in mid air.
Call me Luv; watch me pray,
Lock me in your arms and caress away.
Sing me songs; brush my tears,
Just let me clutch and my fears shall disappear.
Recite my jokes; and the silly bed-time stories,
Make me accept and bring back the glory.
Be my hope; the one who always inspires,
As you are the one who my heart desires.
Be my strength; show me light,
Watch the stars be aligned tonight.
Show me reality; make me believe.
Else love is the last thing I shall ever perceive.
True Love: A Painted Myth?Forgive me if I intrude,
If I'm a little bold,
I've always been a little odd,
From all that I've been told
But something about the way you smile,
Something about the way you trust,
Good Lord, send me a soul to love,
And forget this useless lust
So many tiring hours spent,
Looking for his name
Trying to find a hint,
If he's still the same
I could have been the secret girl,
Chosen at a whim,
I threw my heart at his chest,
But still, I did choose him
I don't know what is real anymore,
My mind does war against me,
Somehow I must get the patience,
To tame the visions that taint me.
So please forgive me if I'm odd,
My heart is just too hopeless to worry with,
But also because I am scared,
That true love is just a painted myth.
Heaven and HellThe sweetest rose has the sharpest thorns,
It pains me to smell it,
The clearest water from the rain is born,
It chills me to drink it,
The brightest light pierces the darkest night,
It blinds me to see it,
The most peaceful rest is after the hardest fight,
It tires me to feel it,
The kindest words sooth the deepest wounds,
It hurts me to heal it.
Life is a hell born from it’s own fires,
But now I know,
Is a heaven on Earth.
Ink GravesLetterless words and pageless books-
and ink blots on the flowers;
Ghosts scratch their heads and tap their pens,
all across the hours.
Winds can howl and cease to be,
by one twitch of my pen;
I spoke of writing a poem tonight,
and by dawn I've written ten.
Emily sits aside nobody,
the Raven, above, waits;
Frost dances in a yellow wood,
among the long lost dates.
A tall, well spoken willow,
looms over the grave;
Protecting every dated word,
and every thought they gave.
I crumple another masterpiece,
with thoughts I'd thought to save;
and as it strikes the baset bottom,
it rests in its ink grave.
The ManThe man who pushes through adversity,
Does have an abnormality.
The man who ignores the whispers,
The man who brushes off the lies,
The man who keeps his chin up,
when faced with the unyielding tide.
The man who remains himself,
When at first his dreams are denied,
when the man he sees in the mirror,
reflects the soul inside.
The man who pushes through adversity,
Does have an abnormality,
A faith in his own ability,
And a knowledge of his own possibility.
How To Use Life[How To Use Life]
Life a unique commodity.
It is precious.
Though, what sets it apart
from other resources,
is that, it is
Today I DiedToday I died and I never got to tell my parents how much I love them, how glad I am that I was theirs.
Today I died and I never got to tell my best friend I am sorry for everything I've put him through.
Today I died and I never got to tell my boyfriend that I want us to be the cute old couple walking down the street holding hands.
Today I died and I never got to tell my future children how much I love them.
Today I died and I never got to say goodbye.
If I had survived for ten minutes longer it may have been the most painful ten minutes of my life, but I beg to have them. The pain is nothing in comparison to the agony of not saying everything I should've said.
Mom, I love going to bingo with you during the week. You have the biggest heart, a generous soul, and a loving nature. Life hasn't been easy for you, and I know I sometimes I ignore that. I'm so sorry Mom. You've given me such a warm and caring upbringing that it's hard for me to remember that you had to do without when you were
Smile Today, Darling!This mirror does not show me.
All I see is a girl, pale as the moonlight,
The ghost of a heart once pure white.
But when I lift my hand, she lifts hers too.
Who is this girl? She's blurred into ash hues.
There's something, though, that screams out loud:
A sparkle in her eye proclaims, "I AM PROUD."
A twitch at her lips, a fourth of a smile
Surfaces from a decade's exile.
A burst of a rainbow, a ray of sunshine,
'I'M GOING TO LIVE," is today's headline.
So now, I finally see me.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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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