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Here, AgainHere's another heart break,
Another dozen lies.
And here I am again,
Tears falling from my eyes.
Here I am again,
Caring way too much.
All I did was sacrifice,
But still it's not enough.
Here's another razor,
So tempting on my skin.
Do I keep on fighting?
Or do I just give in?
Here's some some time wasted,
On another stupid boy.
You put on such a good front,
But I was just your little toy.
But I still don't understand,
How it could all just be a lie.
If it really was,
Then why can't I say good bye?
For the Best
Old memories and photos,
so long they caused me pain.
Everything about you,
would make me so ashamed.
For so long I thought you were like the others,
and for so long I was wrong.
It was my mistake,
and because of that you're gone.
I was so ready to put you in the past,
forget what we had,
forget about us.
I didn't know at the time,
but what you did was for the best.
We shared a wonderful friendship,
and we shouldn't put that to rest.
Now looking at the pictures,
bring a smile to my face.
We shared pure happiness,
and that doesn't have to end.
We can't have what we had then,
but we can still share something great.
Hopefully one day,
we can both look back.
And smile at what once was.
What's the point?
Everytime I close my eyes,
I can see you with her.
It's time to face the facts,
I can't go back and fix it.
I see you with her,
I die a little inside.
Because what's the point,
of taking my next breath,
if you don't care I'm breathing.
What's the point of living,
if you don't care that I'm alive.
But I know it's all my fault.
I made the mistakes.
But if you knew the tears I've shed,
and how much I want you back,
then maybe you would realize.
that I mean what I say.
I was just seaking perfection.
But what's the point of wanting that,
if you allready have it,
When Stars CollapseThis is how you bespeckled my bones
with bewilderment: you kissed hushed heart
whispers and slumbering secrets
into my fingertips. You infused awe
into my joints, causing me
to ask how snowflakes got their
shape and how long would it take
to get from the Sun to Capella.
You taught me that energy is neither
created or destroyed; stars do not die.
Eyes washed with emerald sorrows you
told me that they evolve, they change
into something entirely different,
or not so different.
I now know we are made of the same
particles as someone or something else.
We began someplace together.
We're made of so much more than "star-stuff",
we are made of each other.
In a world with no mercy
Day after day
Until the end
The day I die
And then maybe
I'll find some peace
The Breaths Between Usi'm minutes away
from the collision site
the breaths between us
and the lost time
clock guts, sprung
our hallway uncoils
his walnut lean
i'm seconds away
from the before
of our near-miss
the beads of air
and the imperfections of
in a rumored heart
a stuttering mass
this broken belled
has lost hold
of the lives we live
its skullsong rings
the same vibration
I am me. Who are you?I am fragments
of every person
I've met; every
memory made; every
bond formed and tie broken.
I am an orchestra
of people's opinions;
each snide comment
each casual remark
each passing compliment
I am a library
of forgotten lies
and fake smiles
and empty promises.
I am a sky of hope;
filled with stars
which carry the wishes
of the people I have encountered
I am never alone
for their influence will forever
taint my soul and
remind me of their hopes,
dreams and pain.
This is who I am.
Who are you?
on remembering to breathe:i.
you can't hold it in for forever.
your lungs weren't
made to bear the weight
of this world, they weren't made
to left unexpanded
and unexplained -
it is not phenomenon that wakes you
when paralysis hits in the
night, it is physiology telling you that
not everything happens on automatic, okay?
(at least not for always)
you're born like a time bomb, with
only so many beats of
your heart in place to tick away day by day -
your words, they're the same.
there's a time limit
on your tongue, so say something that
means something - use words
that dig in and rip out hearts, use words that
curl around your fingers and worm their
way into your soul.
use words to make something
beautiful. something remembered.
never leave three things
left unsaid because they can be three
words that mean everything -
i'm not telling you to save your breath.
i'm begging you not to waste it.
sing. sing enough to take your breath
away because even though
it leaves you gasping, it fills up that
That rebuilding trust is difficult
Would be an understatement of the highest order.
It's a lot like relearning how to walk.
With each small step,
I keep thinking I'll fall--
And I may--
But I haven't yet.
My heart and left leg
Throb in protest,
But there's a certain joy in progress
That keeps me moving forward.
Blooming Through CrevicesBlooming Through Crevices
People are characters;
their personalities are not to be cracked,
but to bloom.
Codes and signals
Setting our sights
On how to see
Through the cipher.
Optics opting for options
As opposed to conscious.
Ardor replaced by harder
To break through exteriors.
But mortality is only one facet
Of the entirety of humanity.
It is a compass of one being,
But merely a piece of the puzzle
That makes up human composition.
let us not break through empathy
with deductive methodology
but rather with the rhythm
of a honeybee whistling along the hymn
of the wind whispering in the leaves.
humanistic, holistic ideologies
is what the standard can be.
it is the notion of being a metaphor
rather than being something to decipher.
because there are more stars and galaxies
in poetry than there will ever be algebraic
expression curls up with ambiance
under the window pain of a picture frame
because we write more about
How are you supposed to find yourself,
behind that painted on face?
How are you supposed to see yourself,
when you're hidden behind a fake smile?
You're all so plastic,
you're all so fake.
You've lost yourselves in a sea of similarity.
Don't you realize they can see right through you?
The ones you try to impress.
They don't really care.
So why do you fake it?
And why do you pretend?
The truth is we really don't care,
about the people we see on TV.
Sure they're fun to look at,
but their lives aren't our reality.
All that make-up can't hide,
What you really feel inside.
You're say you seek independence,
yet you're just sitting on the fence.
Why can't you just be yourself,
Instead of taking a personality off the shelf?
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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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