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My Worst FearShe is more a part of me than any other person
I grew within her
She who gave me life
The disease ravages her brain
Taking from her everything
Including her Art
That she traveled half a world away to master
It pains me to no end
Knowing that the stories I grew up hearing
About those hot summer nights listening to the cicadas
In the land of the sun
Those memories like her dexterity are stolen from her now
My worst Fear is the day my Mother looks me in the eyes and doesn't know who I am
Too Broken for RealityI'll disappear for a while at least
All my lies, deceit, stealing, and cheating
It will no longer exist
I will go away from the horrible person I have become
I'm a character on a screen
In a realm walking alone and unseen
I live through the artful characters
As I read their heroic words in subtitles
The virtual world is where I belong
Not the so called Real one
Staring at my feet
Unable to meet anyone's eyes
I don't want to come back to reality
I can't deal with it
I wasn't meant for it
I have always been so deeply, mournfully, sad
I AM BROKEN
TIME TO LIVEWatch me fall apart again
Such a child I have become
Lazy and at a loss of ambition
Those that care push
Their hands lifting me up
Past my apprehension
Pulling out of my virtual world
Anime, video games, and online chats
This is the world that has consumed me
I am terrified of change
New people leave me staring at my shoes
Can't meet their eyes, afraid of what I might see there
I have always been perceptive
Even when they hide it I see how they perceive me
In a word I'm fat
That cripples my self esteem
I know I have a lot to offer as a person
But my subconscious still cripples me
But I can at least try to Live, right?
My MoonThe moon has always comforted me
The silver light that seems so ethereal
Just knowing it only shines from borrowing the suns rays
It reminds me of how I am feel so hollow when I'm alone
I only ever feel alive with others around me
But most of my life if techno solitude these days
I detest the day
The sun is far too harsh
Shut alone in my room
My only joy is waiting for the night
Alone with a cigarette watching the smoke cloak my moon for but a moment
The NightSo set in the ways of my solitude
Giving into my naivete has never been my style
As I walk boldly into the darkness
Dripping shadows provided by the tall tree line
A cigarette in my left hand
For I am right handed my friend
No matter how Safe this neighborhood may be
My dominant hand is still buried in my pocket
Clutching a blade I know well how to use
An overprotective big brother that is not mine made sure of that
My night vision is superb so I leave the porch light off
It would only serve to ruin my sight
My ears abused by years of blaring music though headphones
Still pick up the rustle of leaves
And are attuned to the neighbors dogs
They are like my own alarm system
But when they grow silent is when I worry most
Inexplicable as it is I feel something out there in the dark sometimes
But as always wrapped in shadows I trust the Night to hold me safe
Taking a Smoke BreakThe burning embers flash before her eyes
Another fight with good 'ol Dad
He swears his incompetence is a lie
As he rages on again
The nicotine high fills her mind
As she misses the condolences of an old friend
The cigarette butt says good-bye
She prays the night to cloak her as she goes back in
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
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever and
crossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,
I could only believe those words
lodged in your heart
like they did mine
because every time I think back
I can't help but remember the
under star lit constellations,
and study sessions where we
learned more about each other
than we did Biology
but now it's clear
that each beat of your heart
has made those words fade,
and you could care less
about crossed pinkies
but I'll still see you,
and hear your voice
and I'll still wish
the meaning hadn't changed-
At peace within this tranquil garden,
I picture the moments where I've made you smile.
Those times are endlessly precious to me,
I think they're worth the while.
They're worth the time I've spent with you,
Even if it wasn't long.
I only wish I'd spent a little more,
Before our love was gone.
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,
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,
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
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
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.
between my vertebrae, you are (cemeterial)oh, these writers never speak; they
claw words out of bird carcasses,
poets pecking viscera like necropolitans.
they count their ribs to remind you
of a corpse or of a matchstick. dry bones
between fissured wrists & funeral pyres,
these have been dying days &
they're all mortuaries.
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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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