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Graveyard TalksWhen you said my name
for the first time
did you know
it would fall
so heavy on your lips?
With every syllable
your voice grew weaker
as if you couldn't
stand the sound anymore.
I could write a eulogy
if only to put my
memories of you
LimitlessI drank the sky
with a desperate sound
rising from my throat.
Not even the clouds
could stop this
a violent longing.
I sipped the stars
like cheap tea
and I dreamed
MisplacedI cannot control the anger
or stop my hands from trembling
like a leaf
browned by the bitter autumn winds.
I cannot put out the fire
that is raging in my fingertips
or stop the wild animal
that is stirring in my chest.
There are no white winged angels
debating my salvation
because monsters have no place
among the gods.
Dear Little SparrowDear Little Sparrow,
Your wings were clipped
In a fit of a feverish rage,
Fists clenched with whitened knuckles,
I can see you in my memory.
Your song was sung
But never heard
And you cried out,
“What is this life I have to live?”
With false smiles
And a monsters
Brooding in your ribs
You saw no hope
Even on a distant horizon
With a chaotic existence,
Of cages and of spite
And of things
Out of your understanding,
you are not crazy.
It gets better,
My sweet little bird
your wings will grow
And you will fly.
From A to BI searched
to point B;
from my apartment
to the bus stop
in the pouring rain;
It had to mean something,
I knew it did.
I could have made
a thousand similes
about how the rain
is like my life
but I didn't
Rain floods and destroys
but nourishes and cleanses
and I'm trying to figure out
the right words
to explain how strongly,
that fits me.
with the promise of winter
kissing the brown leaves
and leaving empty scars
against the horizon.
Crisp mornings come
on the breath of the wind
and stealing the warmth
from our bodies.
The Perks of Being a PoetToday feels like
sort of day.
All I can do
is see metaphors
and I can't help but notice
and both sad I feel.
It’s cold outside
and my hands have turned
red and white
from clenching this pen too hard.
All I want to do is
take pretty pictures
and write pretty poems
and listen to The Beatles
and The Smiths
for hours at a time.
I want to read books
like Robert Frost
or e.e. cummings
and drink the words
two tablespoons too strong.
I don’t know why
I feel this way
but with blank pages
spread in front of me
like a universe of
“You can make this future yours”
I don’t want it to stop.
I can’t stop.
Autumn Thoughts I'm still around. I'm actually rather ashamed I haven't kept this page updated, seeing as I check DeviantArt every.singe.day. But that can't be helped.
How is everyone? I'm pretty well myself, if not down here and there. I'm going to try to get active in the writing community on here, though I'm not sure how well that's going to turn out in the end. Feel free to note me about needing help or someone to edit or even just to chat.
I'm so happy it's fall. I love sweaters and chilly days and coffee and tea and...aaah I could keep going on a tangent. Also, this is an awesome time of the year because apple cider and Halloween and stuff.
Death To Those Who Hate MeDeath to those who hate me
Hate me for who I am
What I am
But what exactly am I?
I'm just a human.
A small, useless human
One who dreams
Dreams and wishes
Amongst the words of a book
Amongst the images of a comic
Amongst the tales of a game
So why am I hated?
Because I'm different?
Everyone is lost in a book
So why me?
Because I like things
Things that people consider repulsive?
Because I read things
Things people consider sick and mortifying?
Or because..... because?
Whatever the reason
It matters not.
I am who I am
You can't change me.
Not my family
Not my friends.
Only I can change me
But I won't.
Simply because I see no reason to
Therefore I've but one message to all:
Death to those who hate me.
HelpShe carries weight
Upon her shoulders.
For a while she stands strong,
But at last she crumbles,
It didnt look like she was fighting,
But she was,
Long and hard.
She wants to scream,
She tries to scream,
But to the wrong people,
People that can do nothing,
Even if they wanted to.
She wants help
But is so afraid of it.
Shes being crushed
By the weight on her shoulders.
All she needs to do
Is simply roll up her sleeve
No Understanding, No lies"I've been there before"
"I feel your pain"
"I can understand you"
NO YOU CANNOT!!
You think you can understand me?
Do you even know me?
Have you seen the horrors I have?
Have you heard the screams I have?
They're in the breeze
They're in the rain
They're in my head
Once you look upon it
You cannot un-see
Do you really KNOW me?
No, you don't.
I hate it when someone says they understand
When their eyes are shallow pools of water
Not even a centimeter deep
I hate it when they say they can help
When their words are just sweet whispers
That change into deadly spears
I hate it when a person says they have been there
When they have not suffered as I have
And use some dumb story that couldn't even compare
You cannot know me
I have seen too many things
I am always alone
Are you trying to comfort me?
Its better to leave me alone
I hear misery everywhere, even in my steps
Can you ever imagine what I have been through?
I have been to
SorryIt doesn't matter if I've kissed anyone
Since you've been gone.
And I haven't,
I meant it when I said I wanted
Your lips to be the last ones
Maybe I'm only missing you enough
To make my heart sink.
And I want to be held in arms
That care because I don't
Remember what it feels like.
But I do remember the feeling
Of your hand in mine as we
Fell asleep together.
And I just want you to talk to me.
I want you to smile because of
Something I said, but maybe that's
Too selfish of me.
I was always that way.
I don't know how to live,
There's really no point
When I keep dying every day.
But my lungs keep taking in
The air and I breathe.
Just a Taste.I knew what would happen.
That's why I slammed every locked door wide open for just one single night with you,
let my lips crash into yours, tasting you like fine wine, getting intoxicated off your texture.
I dared to sink into the pool of warmth you made, limbs desperate to touch, to brush,
your eyes eating me alive, tearing me apart, my freshly tainted lips confessing my desire,
while yours strung out fogs of smoke, hinting that this, too, was merely a guilty illusion.
Just a kiss, just a moment, just a memory relived a thousand times.
But I knew what would happen.
That's why I didn't push you to finish the sentences that you dropped, forgot unexpectedly,
why I didn't clutch you to my chest, whisper a coo in your waiting ear, dream of tomorrow.
My mind knew before my heart could accept that strange gaze that struck your coffee circles,
The past memories I choked up, that old flavor resurfacing when I finally put it all together,
But still I bathed in the emotion, luxuri
True Love: A Painted Myth?Forgive me if I intrude,
If I'm a little bold,
I've always been a little odd,
From all that I've been told
But something about the way you smile,
Something about the way you trust,
Good Lord, send me a soul to love,
And forget this useless lust
So many tiring hours spent,
Looking for his name
Trying to find a hint,
If he's still the same
I could have been the secret girl,
Chosen at a whim,
I threw my heart at his chest,
But still, I did choose him
I don't know what is real anymore,
My mind does war against me,
Somehow I must get the patience,
To tame the visions that taint me.
So please forgive me if I'm odd,
My heart is just too hopeless to worry with,
But also because I am scared,
That true love is just a painted myth.
Forever MineTeardrops stop to an awkward kiss
Their eyes lock and the moments missed
Caught up in perpetual bliss
He guides the razor blade down his wrist
She sits alone in a dark room
Hoping heaven will save her soon
But there's nothing except impending doom
In the blanket of darkness that consumes her
He wishes that there was some way
To tell her that he was hers always
And that he still had so much to say
But he screwed up and this is the price he pays
She cries alone with her eyes shut tight
Pretending that everything is alright
But she can't keep going, she's losing the fight
She says these will be the last tears she cries
Now full of regret he bows his head
Dressed in black another tear is shed
He never told her he loved her, instead
He kept pretending that it would never end
I never meant to hurt you, love
Didn't want to watch you from up above
But I'm just one girl with the weight of the world
On my shoulders, I lost my composure
I gave in because I'm weak
Please don't follow my lead
You have the audacity to call me a hypocrite.
When you can also be classed as a syndicate.
It's easy to judge someone objectively.
When it comes to it you choose what to forget selectively.
I'd be lying if I said I this situation has not affected me.
Too hasty to label and condemn others.
When you sleep keeping the truth under the covers.
In the morning the lies emerges and everyone suffers.
I'm left lieing in a bed of illusions thinking your friends are my brothers.
My actions offend you and I apologise.
When your actions offend me, you refuse responsibility and colonise.
My eyes have been exposed and this truth has left me traumatized.
This injustice is displayed regularly but no one ever gets penalised.
Now what was once assumed has now forced me to think twice.
Double standards have revealed their identity.
Confused me to the point where I'm no longer sure of things are meant to be.
This virus has spread worldwide and no one can be bothered to find the remedy.
MercyOh sweet God how the grassland
ignites in moonlight tonight
I must thank you for creating
her tangled fingers' slow pace
through the handsome rain Her
trochaic kinesthesia to rhythms
in Stravinsky's The Rite of
Spring Is this how you meant
for us to love you Yahweh
Tumbling clumsily down hills
of sheets into perpetually
immutable silence I could love
you like that I think I've been
practicing on this Savanna
for days and months Lost in
her crystal canvas Rolling crests
and troughs And when she touches
me Oh fair Lord I'm dragged into
your city past Gethsemane's
pulsing green and gold
Please hold us together
under this luminous stretch
Oh Father We are live
unclothed Our reflections awash
with the skin of your sun
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More