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Never Gonna Be Father of the YearNever gonna be father of the year
I try desperately to remember so semblance of home
Where love and acceptance should cover me
But it is all spoiled by my father's rage permeating though
He knows how to hurt us best
Another aptly chosen insult causes the darkness inside of me to twist
His white hot temper hits me like a blow to gut
I learned long ago not to answer his anger with my own
But still the white hot rage within me swells to the surface
I feel it harden my gaze as a I lock eyes with him
Almost unnoticed a voice in the back of my mind screams at me to back down
I listen averting my eyes and digging my nails into my palms causing crescent moons to form on the heels of my palms
As I swallow back swirling mass of shadows that are my rage
His voice has risen as I was focused on my internal battle
Ignoring him when he's like this will never work
He can tell when I try to retreat in my head willing myself somewhere..anywhere else
So I do what I always do I stand there and take it
THESE BOUND WINGSTHESE BOUND WINGS
These fragile wings are bound by such heavy chains
Desire burns and resounds deep within me
I stare at the clear night sky
Yearning to finally take flight
I'm no angel
What right does a sneak thief have to this blessing
Borrowed wings from one of pure soul and conviction
She fell for my sake
Her final will was to pass this gift to me
As the sun sets over the frozen landscape
The links of the despicable chains
Made of my own fear and self deprecation
For once the loosen and fall away
I will honor those who lift me up
As I reach the stars of Heaven themselves
THE FALLTHE FALL
Through half slited waking eyes
I see him
A shadow of rage no longer a man
A smash resounds as he throws the nearest object
No words are spoken as the fist fist falls
I do as I always do
I go away in my mind
My own world
Snow covered and black and white
I am the only one here
I curl up and cry
Because I refuse to give him the satisfaction
Of crying in the real world
Maybe that's how my infatuation with fantasy started
I still go there sometimes
Its quiet and still
It calms my soul
The physical abuse has stopped
But I think the emotional torture may be worse
This is story of my fall
The White Rabbit A white rabbThe White Rabbit
A white rabbit lies within us all
A fantastical deciet we cling to
It is our dreams personified
Downward through the hole
Falll deeper now, Child
You are home
Greated by potions
Smelling faintly of unidetifiable herbs
A faint voice of aprehension cries
But the note on the bottle urges
As it passes your lips you fall again
Let it hold you
The doubting voice echoes
"Now you see..Sleep is the Enemy!"
I Am Become...Who?I Am Become...Who?
"I am become Death, destoryer of worlds,"
said Oppenheimer when he saw the first atomic bomb test
I....I have become the destoyer of all ties I have left
I have been consumed by this Krutch I cling to so fervently
My drug...it rushes into my brain
Swelling and multiplying
Everwhere it touches it alters the chemesty of my mind
Endorphines run rampant
Without it the dark depression would consume me
But slowly the dependance formed into its own shadow wihtin me
Every lie I let loose so artfuly
All the times I played the thief in the night
I lets ribbons of darkness that bind me to who I have become
Who am I without it?
The Music Finds it's Way InThe Music Finds it's Way In
The lyrics are a mystery
As a language I cannot understand fills my ears
But still the emotion gets through
No need for comprehension as a crooning voice
Let's me know that she is free from a failing relaionship
I feel the beats all the way down my spine
Like a morfine injction
Faltering and Failing
And music still finds its way in
Stronger now the music's much more furvent
The drum syncs with my pulse
Beating so hurridly
Back to the music that pulled me through in the past
A familiar voice lilting with her tell tale Italian accent
Her voice reaching hights that take me heart with it
SO LET THE MUSIC IN
Lord knows it has saved my life many times
Hearing someone sing so beautifully about the same horrors I feel in my own life
Knowing you are not alone it is a melencholly comfort
But comfort none the less
Even if I'm only finding help in anonymous serenades doesn't make the helping hands I grab so blindly for any less real
And know to any who read this that my
I am a MouseI am a mouse.
I am quiet, I am nothing.
I am a book that nobody has read.
I am an eclipsed sun and a cloaked moon.
I am irrelevant and unwanted, a broken toy in an attic.
I am the dust in your rear-view mirror that you leave behind.
I am the air that you breathe in and spit out as something different.
I am the palest white. I am the darkest black. I am the dullest, emptiest grey.
I am the old man with forgotten memories and the baby who has yet to make them.
I am a forgotten word, dangling on the tip of your tongue, hanging on the noose of your lips.
I am a dried up stream. I am a felled forest. I am an abandoned cornucopia of resolute nothingness.
And there is Hell burning in my eyes.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
A void within meAlone on this inhospitable night, once again
I let my memories guide my lost steps,
Wandering amid the ghosts of my past.
As I walk along the quay,
I stare at the feeble Seine flowing:
She's dying by the street lamps' hands
While the whole city asphyxiates.
Reflecting my own lack of humanity
Over the river's lighted surface,
Griefs come and go at the water's rhythm.
Once again, on this breathtaking night,
My feelings are sealed and my chest hollow.
Purple rain, chills of cold.... Or regret? I crave
My musical drug, my remaining salvation,
Spreading a sweet poison within me and
Eroding the remaining happiness I still have.
I plug my headphones...
A grin of relief appears on my weary face,
I flee to lenient lands, where a familiar Angel tucks me in.
These notes of violin split the immutable silence,
Fill the hole in, lit a bonfire to my soul.
This mermaid sings my dreams to me,
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
california wintersthe tears
I rationed have all
run out. Tuesday comes
up behind me and steals
my breath; my cat snores.
she can’t sleep soundly
since she lost her seventh
life. I’m like that, I’m always
worried someone will try to steal
what I’ve already given away.
I miss color. newsprint sobs
washed me out. I am a
blank canvas, I am a faceless,
I am one
of you. I wake up sweating
and it’s winter and I can’t
sleep because my memories
follow me between my sheets;
jake still won’t listen.
we never knew we were the
lucky ones, we scarred, too. don’t
touch me. don’t want
me, don’t bare my bones
when you think I’m not
watching. I’m afraid of
myself. breathing loud
enough that others know
I exist; you follow me,
needing, laughing, it’s
a game. who has lost
the most, we all want
to win; I’m so tired, so scared,
there’s no one in the world
who sees me. I can’t cry.
we’re in a drought.
Hold the HeartI.
Your heart is like the old wall,
at the end of the street,
filled with random scribbles,
of names and dates.
Though yours smells of wine and scented candles,
cluttered with faulty promises rather than garbage.
I watched you toss it so many times,
like a useless rag ball, but this time hurt didn't it?
She couldn't bear to see her name,
topping the list of a million others,
nor the lipstick print you forgot to wipe,
mixed with the scent of another's perfume.
She added a new smudge to your wall,
a line of black carefully drawn
across the memories and faces,
and firmly stated:
"No more littering allowed at all".
Then she took a hammer and ripped a hole,
wincing in disgust at the decaying flesh hiding below.
Hold your heart in your hands,
the patches can no longer sustain,
there are too many pieces now,
I think you're even harming it more,
with every sting of the needle,
while you desperately try to sew it whole.
A Fire To Burn Back The CriesIt still astounds me
How no one hears the droning on
Of this Earth shattering cry
I am left prone
Folded over myself
From fear of the scream
Incessant within my own mind
Following it downward
I reluctantly scratch the surface
What remains of the wall
That tenuously holds back
The Pain of my loosely tethered soul
It brings shadows to haunt my vision
Color grows stale before these cold distant eyes
Music...the harsh melodies and fiery lyrics
Which once kept me grounded
Seem fade to white-noise
In the face of such a cacophony
What is left to help weakening legs to hold me up
Only a simple sleeping ember
Awaiting a spark to bring flame back to my heart
So each night I pray
That God send me an angel
That one soul that might meet mine half way
Somewhere between hope and disbelief
So who will bring me back from the edge?
When will you awaken me?
It seems about the right time
Since the alarm has been sounding for quite some time...
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More