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For MichaelAt this moment, if I could,
I would wrap my arms around you
and tell you that it's ok to cry. That
everything is alright, that everything is as it should be.
I would tell you that it's ok to be afraid.
I would let your tears fall,
look you in the eyes, and smile at you.
I would tell you that life will go on, and that
one day, you will be reunited,
no matter where your belief's lie.
I would tell you what you already know,
that she loves you,
that she will always be with you,
that she is no longer suffering.
And you will feel her close by
with you at all times. Because
she is part of you. And you are part of her.
You are her son, the one
that made her eyes sparkle,
made her face light up,
made her smile.
But there is no way to force these things
into your head. It's your heart that's grieving.
I know that your heart
is cold and blue, and choked with tears and confusion.
So all I will do is tell you that I love you,
and eventually, although it may seem like life will
never be the same,
The Ashes of my DreamsThose are the ashes of my dreams,
Floating on the wind as time passes by.
Sitting and waiting
As moonbeams softly fall through the sky,
Cutting my flesh like tiny daggers and
Landing gently on the ground below.
Recycled blood just like recycled dreams,
Just like recycled words and thoughts and stories.
And I stare up at the sun as if waiting for some answers
And my blindness leaves me crying out of empty eyes.
Darkness is the light,
Only then will I be able to sleep.
Rest eternally, find my thoughts,
Thoughts on paper,
Ramblings all the same.
Menacing words, hiding within me and keeping me awake.
And it's never good enough,
Only good enough to hate.
The Value of LifeWhile shopping for groceries, my friend and I rounded a corner and bore witness to some confused commotion down one of the food isles. A woman walking towards us held up her hands and splayed them about six inches apart; "It was this big!" She stammered, talking to another customer.
It was a mouse. Or perhaps a rat. I wouldn't be able to find out. Because as we parked the cart, I walked over just in time to see something get kicked into a box, and although my mind was thinking 'wow, that's great! The rodent will be taken outside and away!' It seems that my optimistic thinking was just me, because a customer decided that he would rather kill it than have it saved: he dropped a box of firewood on it.
What was left was a small red smear; it looked like some sort of paint or liquid candy concoction, as 'clean up on isle six' boomed over the loudspeakers.
'Clean up on isle six' was repeated over the intercom more than once, as one of the employees stood watch to make sure that no
Untitled ObservationTo one side of me, my right,
A woman waits for her two nieces to come from the salon.
She paces back and forth, an unlit cigarette sitting in her designer bag.
I had no light to give her.
To my left, a Starbucks, a group of young adults sit in a circle,
The summer breeze carrying their youthful laughter
And caressing their sun-kissed skin.
And me in the middle, my blue hair tussled and ruffled – no 'hair-do' there, just self.
My sunglasses reflecting the surrounding vehicles
I can see through them,
But you can't see me.
Break-up"So, I wanted to talk to you about us."
I lean forward. I've heard that leaning forward really engages a person to listen to you.
"I think that we rushed into things a little too fast."
He's staring at me. I can see his eyes are watering.
"I want you to know that I think you're an amazing person, and I feel so honored that you want to be with me. You've got everything, you know? You're the perfect guy. I just think that we rushed into things a little too quickly."
"Ok." He begins to fiddle around with the straw sticking out of his coffee cup. The silence is killing me. I know that sometimes silence is a good thing, but not now.
"This really sucks, I know," I look away for a moment. It's killing me, really, because I can see that he wants to cry. I want to cry. It hurts me to hurt him. I really don't like hurting people. I've been in this situation before, except I was in his spot. I was the one being dumped, and my dumper, I suppose you could call him, was probably a thousand mil
When beautiful things go unnoticed,
when beautiful things are ignored,
when beautiful things are dying,
there may not be one to save them.
When beautiful things are crying,
when beautiful things will die,
when beautiful things are diving,
there may not be one to hold them back.
But I caught this beautiful thing,
and I kept her from dying,
though she was hell-bent on her ending,
I held this beautiful thing in my arms.
And she closed her eyes in wonder,
at the world I pulled her into,
as she now was as visible as a spirit,
but as immortal as legend.
For she was now my Keeper,
and I held her in my arms,
and she kissed my cheek as I held her,
and all I could do was blush.
When beautiful things touch your soul,
there is no accustomed way to act,
and I felt my heart beat one with hers,
and I cared nothing of the rest.
For a beautiful thing had touched my soul,
like nothing ever had before,
and she wished to hold me longer,
and I wished to hold her forever.
Addicted to Messy Kisses (Visual) I want to sit on the
roof top in your boxers and kiss
you while listening to you telling me about
the stars that made the constellations on my
face. I want to kiss you when you photograph me,
because that's what I want to remember: loving you
endlessly and boundlessly. I want to kiss you when you
are too tired and too drunk, and watch you slobbering all
over me, while I laugh in your breath on my lips. I want to
kiss you in libraries, when you'll blush and tell me to sto
organized chaosHis brain's like
reflecting muted light.
His brain is architecturally sound,
with perfect corners
organized into neat sections,
metal cutting the spectrum
into cautious pieces.
He tells me he's nothing.
He tells me that he's grown up
from the cracks in the sidewalk
like a dandelion,
and he's been waiting his whole life
for someone to come along
and blow his fucking head off.
He tells me he comes from a bad place,
and I nod
when all I want to do is shake him
and remind him
that everything beautiful
must grow up out of the dirt.
I wanted to write you a lovesong.i.
Summer rain has nothing
on the sound of your laugh,
little pinpricks of sunshine
lounging across the cobbled
streets of midnight,
cooled grey eyes, shining
tears of nightlights
glowing like stars in your cheeks;
in darkened archways,
hollow stone walls
reverberating through my skull --
back to earth, loving
taking root under the city floor,
breathing across cool hands
in warmer songs, notes
bundled under my sheets
thoughts that last all night
and drift between the rafters
of my chest
wanting at last;
pure, starry sky and
dawn rolls down the mountainside,
turrets and towers
crinkle-eyed smile batters
falling -- falling --
more delicate than down
softly into the clouds.
one life into another
the moon has sunk
into my soul; I am losing
but the bloodl
BloodlustIn our private heaven
We satisfy our bloodlust
By breaking each other's skin
With a shinny blade
And tasting the crimson flow
The flow of life
A life of lust and love
The love we feel
For each other
A bloody and guilty love
Of voluntary wounds
And beautiful scars
Our reason to live
Our dirty secret
A secret we both carry
With great pleasure
The only way
We can feel happiness
Two LilliesI found my soul,
in a white lily atop a hill,
a red wine sunset
splashed against the sky.
My heart felt her before
I could see,
the flower strongly rooted
petals blowing with a battle cry
against the wind.
The gusts overtime,
testing and strengthening
the precious growth
roots sewn deep.
I sat beside,
your petals open wide
nothing left to hide,
shades of white
despite the soil you came from.
Yet alone you sit
a secret scent,
for me to enjoy
as I read a book,
and talk to you about everything and nothing.
Late into the night.
dew like tear drops,
and I couldn't take you home with me
but I would return again,
Until the day I join you.
How the waves tasted your anklesSince you are the only sailor
of the sea that my moon-
child eyes so easily bleed,
I crumble to shoreline pieces
every time I press my lips
to half-neglected sea glass,
haunted by visions of the way
you rolled cherries on your tongue.
Lover, I will try to forget you.The moon is braiding
her sighs into my hair
as I tell her 'I
dislike the thought
of being perfect.
Even more because
I always tried for him.'
There is turbulence
in these bones as he
ghosts past me and
into the skyline.
Perhaps it is time
I stop following.
StarsYou fill me up with bubbles,
dreams and futures floating for me.
Using a line of chalk to draw my life plans on me,
outlining where we can go together.
Stars scribbled across my forehead,
highway across my belly.
Breathing in the cars, making a map of our love.
The CoJoined SplitIt was the strangest thing
Sitting at my computer,
Room fairly cleared out,
Alanis Morissette blaring out of my computer,
And he walks in uninvited,
Just as she's singing about it.
And memories blend with reality –
Out of my peripheral vision
I saw half him and half him.
But that's all it was – a blending of two things.
Two things joined
Two things apart.
Together and splitting.
I had the mental image that it was
Him, not just him.
That's just the way it was.
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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