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He said, she said- I've pulled an amazing Amy! It had started from a story...
He said I hate you,
She said I love you.
We are nuclear,
Destined to explode,
We are at each other's throats,
Yet we are in love,
...or supposed to be.
But you are not in love with me,
And I am not in love with you,
We are in love with the idea of each other being in love,
Of people we've built up and dreamed each other to be.
You put the gun to my head,
I pull the trigger.
He said, I want a normal life.
She said, I know you don't.
He said,I don't need you.
She said, you are nothing without me.
I am your edge.
You only loved yourself when we were pretenders.
He said nothing.
She said, play nice.
Falling out of love each time a new flaw was discovered,
Like some defective product we all seem to be.
We are toxic together,
A couple forever.
When I am gone,
You will find me,
Become a better man because of me.
Our chemical infused romance can be listed as catastrophic,
Nerdy Love 2I walked in the store on the curb of 4th and Fremont. When I pushed the door, it hummed the Superman theme song as I passed through. I scanned the room as I spotted some X-Men, some Iron Man, some adventure time, and- Something caught my eye. It was a boy, about my age or older. Sitting behind the counter reading a Spider-Man comic. You wouldn't believe it, but he looked like superman...who just happened to be my favorite superhero. His dark hair curled just the right way, inhumanly blue eyes that twinkled like the night stars, and just the way he carried himself in his worn out flip flops and blue Chicago hoodie, and...I sound so incredibly gay now, don't I?
"Checking out the employees from behind comic books Spence? Stalker much?" Ryan's voice startled me as I jumped. He laughed cynically, "It's okay Spence, you can tell me, I won't judge you."
"Tell you what?"
"That you're gay and are checking out my work buddy Jon from behind a bookshelf?"
"...so that's his name? Jon?"
Love exists in pills and powder...we are addictsLeave me alone
So I can tell you goodbye
This desperate dream of a life
Selfish, conceived darling
Blind and naive
To see that girl who's petty emotions drive her to love him...
But she knows it will never be
Wishes they could just mess around
Without any strings attached
He is her comfort, her counterpart
The source of happiness
The reason for tears
The reason for life
Yet ironically he kills her everyday
His blindfolded actions
He sees her as a male companion with a vagina
Only she wants more
If only he didn't care and would just let go
She would find release
...but we don't live in that dream
We live in shades of nightmares and haunting melodies
"Love me" she says
"If you can't do that break me"
He does both
He will never know
Pathetic, she cries
Self indulgent, she knows
But her sins are her best attribute
Such a tragic world, aren't we?
My Own Personal ComaPlease take the time to read this and think about it.
Okay, so for the past couple of months I have been observing life because it's just all too predictable. Sometimes the reason I say certain things is to receive a certain type of reaction. So we are all brought up a certain type of way. Everyone is brought up differently but the same. Some guardian and beliefs, some sort of religion and attitude, something or someone to look up to or follow. We are all built up the same way, having people admire us and add to our self-esteem, constructing false hope and Hollywood dreams we can never achieve. We are put into schools where they measure our IQs and teach us nonsense that is unnecessary to reality since we all in one sense create our own reality. We all complete our needed education to apply to work behind a desk for just another mediocre job everyone else has just to get some cash in your pocket, start a family and let the whole cycle continue.
So no matter what race, gender, or
You're three sides of my eight sided circle"I would never try to decieve you."
"You do everyday."
Lovers juxtaposed behind shuttered eyes
holding broken glass for hearts
I said 'hello' as you said 'goodbye'
hopless hurts, romantic's worse
you should know
addicted to the ghost of you
you drain my everything
your touch is my relief
one last form called bittersweet
your tears fall beautifully like rain
teaching little birds how to fly
with sarcasm dripping from your lips
you're so pathetic you lick it off
pathetic taste I know you love
Swimming through my dreams
as repeated lines turn into the dirt
Teasing the trigger to where you are
Free. Release.If I could have everyone from my past again
to be my friend, lover, or ghost
If I could relive my faults
through a mirror my vainity released
shattered scowls for happy hearts
inside smiling but outside dark
alone is sad,alone,tempting
Unhealthy so now I let you free
Away from me
For the best it seems
Happiness to fill my void
Understand the concrete maze
Mind filmed black and white
too complex for comprehention
Count to Ten 31-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10
"Ready or not, here I come!"
I heard Brendon's voice bellow from my hiding spot. I heard his footsteps echoing.
"Come out come out whereever you are!" His pitch was high and teasing. I sucked in a deep breath. It was silent for a moment. It was silent for minutes. My visions was bluring behind the pile of leaves I was hiding behind.
"Gotchya RYRY!" I screamed, jumping onto my shoulders. Screaming in hysterics and pinching my hips. I let out a strangled yelp and frantically jumped out from the leaves. He was laughing behind me, I pouted and put my hands on my hips.
"That wasn't very nice Brendon!" He rolled his eyes and stuck his toungue out at me playfully. He snickered and hugged me from behind, burying his face in my neck like my mother used to do.
"I'm sorry Ryry."
And that was just the beginning for us ten year olds.
Ten. That's how many times I got beaten up this week by my drunk of a father. A few bruises painting
The daughter of desmond tiny/I am a pop song(normally im all rant rant rant i hate blah, but i am a pop song on replay, and this is now)
the daughter of desmond tiny
just another face on a computer screen
you're not an attention whore because we all are,
just a little
waiting to see who'll take notice of us and who won't
she was the one who ran away from everything if her eutopia didn't coexist with the real world
too clueless to know that she already had it
just a distorted kind that she couldn't see
it was her nature to push away the ones who love her
she likes to self destruct, don't deny it
it's an addiction she feeds on
one I fed on
her fingers tease the trigger but she never pulls it
so instead she says goodbye
juxaposed but seperate souls
i didn't know anything except for what you told me
so this is what I have
you didn't want to be my friend because I was dancing fences
hate me i love you i don't care
you made me feel that it was wrong to love everybody
and I'm sorry for everything I said
but it's too late to tak
OMG! 2I sat on the ugly turquoise couch which clashed with the bright orange walls next to Brendon. Spencer and Jon were glued to the monitors and discussing different tactics for whatever they were planning. For once in the short time that I have known Brendon, he was surprisingly silent. His eyes were bright and widely open, his leg jiggling below him, fidgeting. He looked at me cautiously with puppy eyes, offering a sip of burning alcohol. I refused with a smile, "I'm straight edge for your information."
He looked at me with a goofy grin, leaning closer to me. "Straight what?"
I rolled my eyes at him playfully, "No drinking, drugs, or funny business." I stuck my tongue out at the end of my answer.
Brendon snickered, scrunching up his nose in the process. "I've never met one of those before."
"Well maybe it's about time you have."
"Getting comfy you two?" Jon asked. We instantly broke apart from each other; I didn't realize we were squished together. "Man up, it's go time." He said with il
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,
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
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,
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.
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
Ideationlocked in a room
with only one escape,
or so it seems.
your hands shake and you drop the key.
Suddenly you're unsure.
Do I want to pick it up?
Do I want to find it?
Do I want to leave?
you think to yourself
there's no other choice.
find the key or corrode, or rust
wear down the hinge
use sadness as the key.
You have the answer now.
Just open the door.
Just walk outside and don't look back.
Let yourself leave with no regrets.
And yet you can't.
You're afraid, you think,
but you are actually strong.
Don't run away.
Don't take that leap.
my bedspread is white and so is my coffin.i can feel
the night closing
the stars are breaking
empty glass bottles
inside of my
mouth, and they taste like
ambien. bitter, then
but you still can't close your fucking eyes
little blue pills for
eyes– it was winter and i
dreams of nothing more than
nothing. the devil
tied chains around all the
vessels in my
body. laughed, and by god i
laughed too (and laughedandlaughedandlaughed).
this will all be over soon i swear i will take everything off your skin and bones and burn it up
and then january took the world
in it's grip and i
drowned in the snow that
will never hydrate the
can you hear that it's the night and it's so beautiful so come here darling and we'll watch the sun rise and set and rise and
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.
Bigotry murders religion to frighten fools with heWe are just seperate souls that drift off in the blur of society.
Just passing through without another thought.
I am the apparition who lays beside you under your covers and forms you and your state of mind.
Small talk with fellow students for weeks yet you cannot recall their names.
The friends who were once close, you can't even recognize their faces.
We're all ghosts; transparent and temporary.
But if we're all ghost, how can I remember you?
The sentimental ring your name resounds,
every touch your fingers leave.
Spotlight on the first day we met.
Every memory spent,made,created together more vivid than the next.
Maybe we aren't all ghosts after all...
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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