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UntitledI've stepped too close to your fire. and singed some hair, how may hearts aflame.
My only memories, a kindling, my thoughts the billow, my roots ungrounded; but it is spring now, and soon i shall see my new colors.
Part 1. Still a work in progress.
Spending TimeThese years pass like no other. One would believe that time begrudges; spending it so nonchalantly as if it was a poorly made investment.
Perhaps my bank will accept my watch as a deposit. Or perhaps i shall invest my time in these pages, and when I want to withdraw back into my head, back in time; I shall be the richest.
Angelic wings(Its a bit jumpy, i had some idea where i wanted to go with it.)
She holds a coffee cup in hand
as she waits for winters frosty kiss
Her hoodie, always pulled over her knees
She sits up, looking at the night sky
each star a suspended snowflake
each star a loving soul, embarked to find home in the eyes of the created.
Snow fall like tears, crystallize, become angelic
and her wings known to all under her.
A sparing gift, so willingly given.
Her eyes a majestic beacon of hope.
Stare into her star-lit eyes.
For winter has no hold over her,
follow to her now, her star-lit eyes
and now again, be free.
and as he snuggles into her hoodie,
know of her love and kindness
she may not see her wings,
but we have seen her eyes.
Natures BlessingsThe rain drips from the tips of leaves, preciouslife, so fickle to stay.
The grass below holds the dew of the midnight rain, on the tip of the blade it holds. Unrelenting, to quench the soils thirst.
In between, the birds do fly, softest feathers gently kiss the earth, as the wind whispers apologies of broken trees. the sunflower bends to the sky,
Its brown eye stares into the sun, the pedals flutter to wave hello to its distant cousin.
Each sun beam shines on the flower, the sun beaming with pride.
When the wind pick up, a supportive friend, as the red breast takes flight.
She is destined to learn the skies. And the wind is proud.
Pens and PuzzlesHow do we piece together a puzzle?
when the edges are worn out and torn.
so forlorn are we, under the cratered moon
so where do we begin?
Search for the tape, the safety pins, the gauze,
thread the needle,
stitch it up,
Dress the wound
Pressure the cuts.
We carve out puzzles on our skin too difficult to solve
never trying to resolve them
they become more complex as the maze races along our wrists
But we soon forget why we were running.
Eyes become the pens and pencils,
tracing our mazes, and in the confusion, they give up.
As we gave up the resolve to finish our own puzzles in our head.
Great Fire of RomeCertain boys used to press their fingertips into my skin
as if they were cigarette butts and I was an ashtray.
They stamped out leftover guilt that wouldn’t burn away,
grounded it into my skin so that when it rained,
I could smell smoke and their brands of cologne.
There are burn marks on the insides of my palms
from all the times they held my hands with bonfires between theirs.
The scars on the inside of my mouth taste like copper and woodsmoke
from where they left their candles
as if I was a faulty altar.
They picked flowers from every garden my body
grew and left them at the feet of some makeshift effigy
as if they had given me a gift.
They burned me to the ground like Rome and dared to call my ashes beautiful ruins.
I have let people ruin me.
Then I found a boy who set my ribcage on fire
and illuminated my lungs with every breath.
His fingertips were fireflies
and my body was a warm summer night.
The lanterns on his lips lit up every corner of my being until my body c
1901, SomewhereI am tired of opening my eyes and immediately wanting to empty myself out. I am less like a garden hose, a vessel of water pouring itself onto death, these days and more like a watering can. I have to be filled up first. I have to be tipped head first, hands over knees, before I can give up. I run out, often.
And I know what they will say. It is not beautiful, in any way. The priests at my old church call it praying but I feel more and more like the mantis these days. Preying. I keep trying to climb trees that are dead in the hopes I will be the one who finds the one live branch. I am trying to find the one inch of live wick in my own self too. I keep cutting and cutting but I never find the green.
It’s all black in here, you know. I am less the color of obsidian and more coal, more the color of gray darkness. I am ___. I cannot even manage to exist bleakly enough to be called night, to be called eyes closed forever, to be called keyboard keys when no one is touching them. I am t
Inner StrengthYou feel it again
That burning in your breast
When you want to speak up
You know who you are
And you know the rest
But instead you hold back
Clutching to your sacred words like a cross
Don’t let it get lost inside you
Don’t let yourself go unheard
Like all those defining moments
You let fall through your fingers
You could have said something
But you chose to caress
The thought of another hanging on a moment
Passive aggressively taking control
Of a truth or opinion that is yours alone
Close your eyes and count to ten
This is one of those moments
When your life will never be the same
You can start again
And relieve your pain
If you would just speak up
You have the power to change your path
You can find the courage
To not hold back
It all starts with you
What do you have to lose?
1:40amthe empty-belly night sky rumbles
Lana aches in my ears
the curtains curl around lightning-flash
my fingers smell like smoke
and I try to sweep you out of my untidy head
but you linger in the corners still
like you always do.
life is the looming monster we never look straight in the face
afraid of its shadow.
I want to wrap my arms around you
I want you to be the future I am so afraid of
I wrapped my past around my fingers so tight
it cut off the circulation
i want to cut all the threads of my never-let-go
and let my truth stand as unaplogetically
as the scars I've let heal
I am learning how to never adjust my views for your approval
my skin is not an apology
this is not an invitation to walk over me
learning yourself is like learning a city
it is continually changing
growing out and shifting under
like our fingernails
or the sunset.
SomeoneShattered wide - a ragged tear,
One the soul cannot bear.
Crumbling mask - a gentle lie,
Hides a face that begs to cry.
Hoped not - a prayer unspoken,
Too many promises broken.
Nothing flies - a crow or dove,
Grounded by voids of love.
Sole survivor - a grain of sand,
Heir to a great drowned land.
Last breath - a man overdue,
Missing happiness he never knew.
Gnarled stump - a failed dream,
Only witness it would seem.
Wilting yet - a confession said,
And blades and rope dress in red.
Delightful Dreams“If you could do anything now, what would you do?”
After hearing these words I gave it a moment or two
And found that swimming in my mind was not the will to be kind,
Was not to end poverty or make a world so divine,
But instead to meet old friend, sister and brother
And let ourselves lose within the presence of another.
For none to control our talks
Or to mandate our attire.
For us to sneak out at night
And set a rebel flag on fire.
Perhaps just too freely talk
Or meet the friends I have yet to.
Oh yes! Simply to slowly walk
Amidst an urban ocean side view!
Perhaps Washington where I once shed tears!
I’ll walk the starlit streets with a date
Whose name I won’t remember in years!
Arm in arm,
Up and down stone steps and sidewalk paths,
Gazing over the shimmering waters,
Surrounded by brilliant architecture at last!
But though I desired to reveal these thoughts
In the presence of the asker, I knew I should not
For it is a sin to dream of such selfish t
Three MonthsThree months
Three lousy months
What can happen in three months?
In three months the planet Mercury
Has already had an entire year of life
Eighty-eight days of rotation around this bright star we call a sun
In the time between my first and second birthday
Mercury has had four
Between my second and my fourth
Mercury has had eight more
In three months a tiny egg and tinier sperm
Can form what passes for a child
It opens and closes its fists, grasping for something it doesn’t know yet
Mommy presses a hand to her expanding stomach and feels the faintest flutter
Life is growing inside of life in three months
From April to June a change is taking place
The apple tree outside my window is budding and breaking blossoms
Scattering pink petals across the lawn
My mother’s tulips open for the sunlight
And almost as quickly wither and die in the growing heat of June
That’s all I had
When people hear, “I have three months to live,”
From the words of a loved
PillsThey gave me those pills
They said they would make me happy
All I had to do was take those pills.
But they didn't make me happy.
Are you here to make me happy?
Do you have those pills?
Please tell me.
Are you going to give me those pills?
The ones that make me happy?
Am I going to be happy?
I don't understand.
Why am I not happy?
You gave me the pills
And said I would be happy.
But I'm not happy.
Please tell me why.
I'm not supposed to ask?
I didn't mean that!
Now I know why.
Why I am not happy.
Why the pills don't make me happy.
Pills don't affect the dead.
Still In LoveI am in love with you.
I am in love with the way you tear up when I say something right.
I'm in love with the way that even when you have no idea what you want to do, you still seem like you know exactly what you're doing.
I'm in love with the way I've made you feel like you're worth something.
You're worth everything to me.
I'm in love with the way you seem so confident even though you're not.
I'm in love with how you steal my breath and make me wish our moments could last forever.
I'm in love with the way you stay true to yourself no matter what people say.
You crushed my heart but I still love you with every tiny broken piece of it.
I'm still in love with the first time I saw you in a dress.
I'm still in love with how soft and nervous your voice was the first time I heard it.
I'm still in love with the way you say that you love me.
I'm still in love with those truths that were told between the lies.
I'm still in love with the flaws you think you have.
I'm still in love with you.
Ice And FireCan one care too much, that one may lose himself? I would rather be lost in snow and trees, than be lost in your eyes. Not that they are cold, nor harsh, but to gaze into them and see such beauty; How did your soak up such warmth if not stolen from the Sun?
It may be cold and below freezing, and you may be away, but as time continues, chosen paths may change, and as far away as you may be, I tilt away from you, my heart still slightly frozen. Yet you still radiate such brilliance, and find away to warm my heart.
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