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hope is in all of us.i want to shed this snake skin
over and over until
i am raw, and new, and alive again.
i want to sew my eyes shut
and be blind until
there is something worth seeing.
i want to hibernate through this era
and stay asleep until
the next ice age comes
and the slate of this planet
has been wiped clean,
i want to begin again,
i want to change,
i want to transform into something
that can survive her own mind.
i want to escape,
i want to run away,
i want to create something new.
i want to be found in every lonely soul-mate,
in every last goodbye,
in every broken home,
in every single person,
under 'new-found hope.'
they said: use the laces to hang yourself.i hate buying shoes
because, my tattered old loafers
may be falling apart
but they're only crumbling
under the weight
of all the memories we shared
while i was in them
i'll admit, they're heavy,
but it feels like losing something
when i drop the soles into
some abyss, or adventure,
and i'm not ready to
give us up
fear of life.i have not a fear of death,
a definitive end does not
entice the dark recesses of my mind.
my real fear is so much harder to hide,
a fear of the opposite, a fear of life.
you couldn't understand, you
take comfort in the feeling of
your heart beatbeatbeating
and in the rush of blood
through your young veins
you embrace life, constantly
being grateful just for being
alive. but i, i just don't.
i can't, really. my chest shudders
as i pull in breath. it only calms
at the attack of nicotine,
my blood sloshes lazily through
the hollows of my veins. it only rushes
at the prick of the needle.
these warnings of impending
death are the only comfort.
i always hated astronomy.you were not the first
to send lightning down my spine and
grow galaxies inside my chest
and now that you've made galaxies
between us, i can see
we were from different solar systems
to begin with, and
i should have seen this coming
from light-years away.
soft spoken with a broken jaw.and i can feel my mind whispering to my heart,
you strengthen that which you fight.
and it persists, what you resist.
i know it,
but i can't seem to
rip my grasp
from the burning iron.
the pain is tangent,
this is not.
the scars are answers,
this is the question.
i couldn't voice it if you asked me.
but you begged.
and i tried to
force the words
from my throat,
but i don't have a gag reflex.
house of wolvesand the snakes are in my skin
underneath, the sin is sewn in,
my bones drip deceit and unhappiness
i can lie for a time but
wont you please just let me in
accept me for who i am
i can share all the skin you want
but i don't have a heart for you to stop
i'm afraid i don't have a heart
for you to haunt
but i can lie for a time
if you'll please just let me in
into your bed, under your skin,
i cant fall asleep in your arms
but i can make your head spin
i'm sorry if i wasn't what you were looking for
but it was you who knocked on that door
saying, love, please just let me in,
into your heart and your heart i'll win
i couldn't make you see
that there is no heart within
but i lied for a time
i faked what you couldn't find
i forgot my conscience in the dark
i hurt a friend and left my mark
so tell me, what's the price
of forsaking love to fill a vice?
some die lookin' for a hand to hold.and this storm has been raging for weeks,
but you gave me your eyes, you didn't see.
we loved the same way a symphony crescendos,
softly at first, all smooth skin and gentle whispers.
and then so loud, it hits you harder than death.
you cant sleep at night, choking on sobs and crying out like a banshee,
the unmistakable call of those all alone in love.
to wash away and away and away.i watched the rain melt my car away
it flowed into the spillway,
with all the fish and a stingray.
my street is flooded and it's flushing
all my bad dreams into pipe drains
but they don't quite fit
like how my bones don't sit right in my skin
the rain water seeped down beneath it
and under my sinew to fill a girl who
doesn't think right with thoughts
of evaporation and polarization,
no memory of this medication or my hospitalization,
i stopped worrying about time zones or cell phones
rain is more than the weather, clouds mean more than
"you should put on a sweater," and air currents
were there when you weren't and birds sang before buildings
saplings grew before the airplanes flew
the wind blew through the seasons changed
and the sun rose before the earth was even composed
but i am not the sun or the clouds, i'm just a girl
stuck in this town who can barely keep her feet
on the ground, who barely knows up from down
much less where any sort of answers are found
so i sit on my driveway a
anxiety. [full up.]and i'm all full up
with that feeling.
you know the one.
it pretends to have a cause.
but it's useless.
and it clings to my bones
like a sinewy second skin.
i tear at the flesh
with my nails and teeth and blades
but i can never get it off.
and i'm full up
with that feeling.
it leaves no room for oxygen
in my lungs
so i drown.
i drown and it
with boney fingers
d o w n.
until i can't see the surface,
i can't see the sun.
and i'm full up
with that feeling.
its pitch black
i don't know how
long it holds me
but just as i
against its claws
i am gulping in
gallons of air
kept in little tanks
inside a hospital.
and i'm empty.
Inside Out.Inside Out.
Do you love my insides?
You know the parts you can’t see.
The parts that constructively divide,
All the places where you can’t be.
Do you love my internals?
You know all my unexploited crevices.
All the words I leave out of my journal.
The soft tissue areas that offer no benefits.
Do you love my fleshy, raw fillings?
You know the boring and bloody parts.
The features that are not made for kissing.
The invisible strokes that add to this body of art.
You see it’s my exterior that attracts you
But it’s my interior that made this possible.
So when my insecurities inadvertently attack you,
Don’t be so swift to class me as distrusting and illogical.
I need to know and to understand.
That you truly love me for who I am.
Even the parts of me you cannot see
Because those are the places where I want you to be.
The CrowBirthed before the white flames of snow, is a crow of intellect with a darkened glow.
A glow from the shadows, deathly and grey, it dwells within souls of the crow's mindless prey.
Such blood-filled specimens without a clue or a light, they wander the deep oceans without knowledge of fright.
Dimensions of fear drown their pitiful eyes, the crow only watches them from above the black skies.
It scavenges their bodies and devours their hearts, nevermore seeing humanity as it ignores and departs.
I, ApostropheLabel me the apostrophe.
Providing union prophecies
and communion plays
to quench your exotic fixations
Coaxing your child-caliber -
through coated girth and doubt.
Naming off syllables of sitcoms
till re-runs act as lungs -
breathing mediocrity as genius
and sewing smiles securely to your lips.
Undoubtedly, the quill tip sips
the prayers you pray for me
because no man's sonnet reeks or bleeds
such as this nomad's need.
Ignorantly, my bliss poises your beauty
and admits that I -
am your sole apostrophe.
Just Like I DoDo you look through old photos
and see me smiling at you
and hear my laugh in your head
then feel your heart breaking all over again,
just like I do?
Do you miss all the little things;
the affectionate pet names,
the goodnight kisses,
the heartfelt messages,
just like I do?
Do you lie in bed
and stare up at the ceiling
until your eyes start to water
and tears start flowing,
just like I do?
Do you feel incomplete,
like you’ve lost your other half,
like a piece of your heart is missing,
like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle,
just like I do?
Do you relive what happened that day
and wonder what you could have done,
or should have said
to stop it all,
just like I do?
Do you miss me,
just like I miss you?
Smile, DarlingHey there.
Yes, you over there.
Has anyone told you lately that you look great?
Yes, with your morning hair. Your “chopstick” limbs. Those things you call fat. Your skin with all the blemishes which make you shine brighter. Your eyes which shine like the stars.
I want to say that you look beautiful, and that you shouldn’t worry about what you look like.
What do you mean you’re a terrible person?
Oh, is it because of the intense jealousy for those who have things you don’t have?
Or maybe because you feel immensely insecure of your wonderful self? Or maybe because you take out that anger and sadness on something? Or is it because you’ve only been getting negative feedback from others? Is it because you can’t fulfill your own duties?
Here’s one thing I should tell you, darling.
Put down that blade.
Throw those pills down the sink.
Drop that bottle of liquor you’ve got there.
Let those tears fall.
I am a GirlI am a girl who smiles
when things aren't always happy
I am a girl who cries
but stands up and starts over
I am a girl who is Bisexual
that loves both of the sexes
I am a girl in love
with 2 people
I am a girl that is strong
when most are weak
I am a girl that smiles all the time
when everything is falling apart
I am a girl that sheds a tear
but starts all over again
I am a girl that never gives up
when things don't go her way
I am a girl with a heart
a girl that is in love
I am a girl that cares deeply
for those she truly loves
I am a girl who is in love
with a guy as well as a girl
I am a girl that is Bisexual
and stands up for what she believes is right
I am not a whore
I am not a slut
I am just a girl
that should be treated fairly
I am a girl with a difference
I am a girl with opinions
I am a girl that does not care
I am a girl who will always be Me
Night TerrorsDepression engulfs the essence of who I am with the nightmares of who i was ,frequently.
The haze that filters my most reeling memories, neglects to censor thoughts when I fall sleeping.
I awake only to realize the sensations have not left my weakened body.
The brain is a rather frightening machine.
Aches,pains,soreness till tender, jabbed ebbing onward.
As my consciousness numbly twists over like a ever turning tide.
I feel, until moments flash that leave me frozen, empty and deadened to the inner core.
Tremors burst forth, as if trying to capture my dull senses, to awaken my bones again.
Forcing myself to grasp daylight, I try in vain, to have thoughts of kisses of sunshine .
But as if mocking me ,happiness alludes and escapes, with my positivity.
Leaving me a dry corpse for shallow birds to feed,shame stares me till I'm blank in the eyes.
Ever hollow ,I begin to weep silently,wishing not to awaken the flesh of love beside me.
My thoughts come back, taunting me, making me peer
this is our burdenmy soul song is the
tea kettles whistle
it expells steam like spirits
and we all wish
we could banish our demons
these walls are held up
by kind ghosts and curious ghosts
they make a house a home
if you let them
why do you think
the sight of a newly vacant lot
is more sorrowful than
the childrens vacant eyes?
we all carry water vapor inside us,
things that tie us down
to this concrete ground
but we are not tea kettles
and my lips
cannot form the whistle-notes
to expel ghosts
so i carry them
we carry them
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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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