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Three ReasonsI knew it wouldn't be her when I opened the front door. I had just hoped that maybe she had seen her mistake. But it was silly to think that she would come and apologize, wasn't it?
"Is you mother home?" the young woman asks as I open the door.
"No," I answer simply.
"When will she be back?"
"When she feels like coming back,"' I retort. Then I slam the door in her face because that woman is really pissing me off. There are three reasons why her questions made me angry. One, I am 21 and I don't live with my mom. I live in a house with two roommates. Two, when I opened the door, she looked about ready to come inside; I don't want a desperate saleswoman inside my lovely home. Three, when someone starts a conversation without even saying "hello" or "how are you?" I feel as if they don't respect me enough to simply go through the obvious actions of trying to be polite.
"Hey, who was that?" Sonya asks.
"No one," I answer.
"You mean her?"
"No. I mean no one. When I say one thing, I don't usua
Stolen LivesWhen I got the news yesterday, I didn't shed a single tear. I simply looked up and bit my lower lip so hard it bled. "You'll be OK," my mom told me a million times. But I wouldn't. Even though I didn't cry, my heart shattered and my world fell apart. He was everything to me and I didn't know how to survive without him.
When my mom had said that I'd be fine, I knew something was wrong. This was her son after all. How can you not feel anything after your only son dies? "Ella? Ella? Sis?" I looked up at my younger sister with the same dead eyes I've had since yesterday. "Are you OK?"
"He's gone," I answered stupidly, not sure what else to say.
"Yes, he is. But we'll always love him and we'll always remember him, right?"
"Mom won't," I replied bitterly.
"She loves him, Ell. She's just shocked," Allison told me gently.
"No she doesn't. Nothing could be further from the truth. Mom pretended to love him after he was accepted at Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Stanford. She loved his
This is BeautyThe snowy mountains
And the whitened trees.
White animals following me.
Sparkling ocean as far as I can see.
And the yellow sand squirming beneath my feet.
Orange, purple, pink, blue sky;
Making the world even more beautiful
Than it ever could be.
Orange, yellow; warm-colored leaves
Drift to the ground,
And the shade diminishes heat.
Sun shines through the clouded sky,
I wave to the warmth; good-bye.
Birds sing their beautiful songs
And crickets chirp all night long.
The wind ruffles the green leaves,
Making me happy; sick with glee.
Flowers, grasses, blossoming trees;
What more do I need?
All the beauty in the world
Is right here before me
In the season,
The lovely season of spring.
Immaturity is confusing...You and me both know that we
Can not stand each other.
Every day and every night
I sit in my room and cry.
To you, for you;
I wish you'd shut up.
Quit complaining of meaningless things.
When I hear your voice
My blood boils,
My heart trembles,
I feel the need to scream.
But, oh, the words will not come out
I can't seem to yell at you.
Because every day and every night
When I'm sitting alone and sad
I think of you and all of your pranks
I think you might not be so bad.
But your jokes amuse me
And your words make me mad.
Your face stirs up bad feelings
And your laughing I just can't stand!
So why do you listen to me?
Why do you stay
So near to me
So far away
I tried to yell at you,
I tried to scream,
But all that came out
Was a meaningless thing.
You rolled your eyes and laughed
Do you really think it's funny?
Because it's making me mad.
You won't be laughing in a second,
When I come over and cut off your hands.
Writer's Block...It doesnt come anymore
The words cant flow from my mind
Drift to the paper and form a song
Everything was so easy
It all just worked out somehow
But now I cant think
And the words dont mean
The same thing
Nothing outside has changed
Inside of me
Theres a disease;
It makes my hands tremble,
It forces my eyes closed
Everyday when I lift my pencil
The paper stays blank
I stare at the white sheet
But nothing has changed
When did this happen
How can I make it stop
Will you lend me your hands
So I can start to write again
My Real Lovedo you miss me?
now that I need you
doko ni iru no?
hold me TAITO
I wanna be close to you
watashi no kotoba
anata no kiss
ima, kowai yo
Anata mo atashi mo
You run away itsumo
Hold me TAITO
I wanna be close to you
Watashi no kotoba
Anata no kiss
Ima, kowai yo
why did you leave me?
kimi no sasayaku
you know I can't hear you
hold me TAITO
I wanna be close to you
Watashi no kotoba
Anata no kiss
Ima, kowai yo
kimi no atatakai te
boku no tsumetai HATTO
I wanna be with you now
kore ga watashi no honto no love desho？
Bokutachi no RABU wo hajimemasu yo
demo, kimi wa doko ni iru no?
The woman from ParisI took much pleasure in losing my way in Paris' morbid and dangerous streets,
Where sole the high arrogant walls whispered me words I was able to understand,
These stretches of granite trapped me like the grave I've always dreamt of.
The Ladies' ice-cold and distant beauty inebriated me with all the bitterness of temptation;
Under a dirty, driving rain, I gazed at them and suffered
While the parisian mist permeated on my heart its burning frostbites,
And hearses of madness couldn't stop from parading through my mind.
"Veux-tu voir la face cachée de Paris ?" - A slender voice dragged me out of darkness
The Seine flowed, flowed, flowed...And stopped.
Her voice, like a carillon, announced Summer's return,
The breeze blew the rain, the sun revived these leaves dead for centuries,
As if she saved me from a waking nightmare.
"Je t'en prie, ne me regarde pas comme ça..." - An embarrassed smiled was being painted on her magenta cheeks
That was her, th
stupid love poems for stupid boys.he was the
smoke in my
saved for when
i'm so lonely
that i cannot
but the problem
with giving your
heart to a boy
with a pack of
for ribs is that
he will want your
well– and after
all that blood and
blue lip kisses,
he will leave you
with a coughing
lighter and a
burnt tongue (but
it's really a great
Soles (Forest Girl)Soles (Forest Girl)
i didn’t believe in carving initials into trees.
i always told you that was corny to me.
i told you i was a city boy,
comfortable in car drafts
and gleaming lights
that dilute natural shine.
to the sight of airplanes,
police cars and helicopters
than anything else.
but you dreamed of wings
so much bigger than aspect ratio,
so much wider.
you were higher.
so that day you took me there,
i knew i was out of my element.
your forest stories teased me;
sitting on the edge of your shoe soles.
and that riverbank that you tiptoed on.
little smirk always flashing your white pearls
when you were whisking through this place.
holding my hand in a tight grip
as you gave me a tour of your hidden burrow.
i had never been so in--
and out of place before.
the atmosphere was brisk
glancing the hairs on my neck,
goosebumps rising on my skin
as i swore feathers fell from your shoulders.
purple streaks nuzzle orange bands
that hold together golden twines
Parchment ThinYou left pencil lead bruises
smudged on my thin ivory skin,
your harsh fingers tracing the lace
of the baby doll lingerie
you pasted to my curves.
The angel wings
tied with tape around my shoulders
(the missing piece of innocence
you thought you could borrow)
weighed me down;
with flat eyes
and marker-blotted lips,
I watched you admire your handiwork.
A nimble flourish of knuckles later,
you slipped me between the plastic
of your photo album
and left my name dripping ink
in the corner--
just another parchment doll
too fragile for holding.
homesick for childhoodshe was a carefree little girl
with smiles hidden deep down
in her pockets, and she'd only
give them out to the most deserving.
when the quarter hour of her life
struck, however, things changed.
her world was painted black
on accident, millions of shades
turned ashy due to a sickness
that breeds on those empty
spaces between words.
she was dropped into summer
covered in homemade scars,
and with summer, her innocence
was eaten away.
pinned to a bed
like prey, she watched herself
consumed into another
(this world is the 7 a.m. frost
left on winter windows.
and it scares me)
The Cracks Of RealityI traced the tips of my fingers over her porcelain
Felt the skin raise in bumps of sensation.
My mouth fit so well into the crook of her neck
And as her her eyes closed, her breathing shaky,
I found myself swallowing and my heart beating twice as fast.
As her hips rolled into me, as her nails clenched into the sheets,
She told me once more that she loved me, and I assured her I felt the same.
But then reality came, settling into the cracks of my fantasies.
And she slipped from my fingers.
And I was alone.
the days spent on the front stepsevery time you rip the lid off
the shell of styrofoam
questions your motives.
every secret you whisper into her naphthalene
stays there. it dies a little
as protein is scrambled. home is not a place.
her curve is ejected
as unidentified. it is bile
rolling back, the sheet of ebbing tide.
you always speak of horses
armoured, whisky clattering on their breath,
kingdoms burning and knights
riding off into the valley of deep sleep
you always speak of ships
leaving, pearly cord
as a farewell extending from coast
to hull forming an image of crying Mary
it shines in front of you
it calls out your name
Goldfish OriginsGoldfish Origins
little feet patter against hardwood,
windows painted by jet clouds
adorned with light studs like earrings
as the children squeal and run,
swimming in and out every room
like a school of fish.
their arms play fins
and their lungs play gills
as time is laid to rest
with each step.
but as some younglings glide
in the waters of childish antics,
there is one that has strayed from class;
nearby, a teacher frantically
looks for the little girl lost at sea.
a field trip to an invisible building
now an adventure
to prevent a disappearing act,
waves of emotion spike
as the woman searches every corner
for some semblance of the mini hellion.
“Amber! Amber! Please say something, honey!”
Mrs. Johnson searches high and low,
from the closet to the dust-hugged kitchen;
the child is nowhere to be found,
and there is only place left to trawl.
the panicked teacher
throws the bathroom door open
in hopes of finally catching her student,
only to discover a lonely fa
darknessHave you ever woke up and you feel like their is darkness all around you?
You are battling your own mind
You have the worst thoughts go on in your head
Don't want to be around anyone
You feel like you are doomed
You think no one understands
Waking up in the darkness is not a good feeling
Try to think of a good place in your life and let the darkness fade
IntoxicatedYou hold me down
I need to breathe
Numbing words and bleeding words
Just let go of yourself
This will change the rest of your life
And youll never make it out alive
What builds all this pressure
Inside my head
What sends the room spinning
Its only the first time
My head is aching
But I feel so alive
Flashing city lights
Neon burning my eyes
What is going on?
Where are you taking me now?
Forcing me down the busy streets
Cold air touches my skin
The illuminated city becomes pitch
Hollow eyes and empty words
Where have you taken me?
I cant take another minute
I cant even speak
When my mouth opens, all I do is scream
Pain shoots through my body
As you take my hand
It was so easy for you
When I wasnt really there
Easy to take advantage
And steal what wasnt yours
My ending was so slow, but it was painless
Body numbed with alcohol
I didnt feel a thing
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