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Oh sweet catstropheHave you finally lost your self,
In the abyss you call happiness ?
Have you finally been baptized in darkness,
And seen the inken realm that holds you captive?
Have you finally looked in the other side of the mirror,
And seen the cracked side of your relection?
Have you discovered that the lines between sanity and reality are jaded,
And a feverish malice throbs inside the darkest caverns of your pristine heart?
Don't ask me how to fix them,
The nightmares that feast upon your soul at night.
You've become transparent as to let the dreams show in your eyes.
It's better to hide the fear deep inside.
Has the inner turmoil finally spiked;
ripped you apart and ate you inside out?
Has the memories of the past come back to haunt you,
In the hours you're so vunerable and impressionable?
Come, take a walk with me.
Oh.. the numbess has set in and you can't breathe?
Pity. Have you finally found the truth hidden behind your eyes?
Wasn't close to what you thought you'd see in yourself, was it?
What is real, What is fiction?What is real,
What is fiction?
Whats the difference?
Is there any distinction?
Are we awake,
Or are we still asleep?
Is it possible,
That this life is just a dream?
What is Darkness,
What is light?
What if good is wrong,
And evil is right?
What is happiness,
What is hope?
Is it the ability,
To pretend to cope?
So are we real,
Or are we fake?
So many questions,
That we always mistake.
Isn't nothing something?
ISn't love a doube edge sword?
The only way to know anything,
Is to cut the golden cord...
11 things I miss about freshman year11. That sparkle in our eyes before we lost our way and met reality for the first time.
10. Being able to actually smile and not wince at how fake it looks.
9. Not feeling like crying every 5 minutes.
8. Being able to sleep at night without having nightmares.
7. Being able to trust people who say they care about you.
6. Being able to like someone, but still be friends.
5. Being able to talk to the both of them about anything without hurting or hurting them.
4. actually laughing at a joke instead of forcing it.
3. Being able to feel something and not worry about getting hurt.
2. Living life like there is nothing in the world that can get you down or scare you.
1. Being able to have that one person hold you, hear them say that they loved you, and know that they actually mean it.
NamelessI can not see,
Beyond the walls of this disorted dream.
Hidden within a land,
Where nothing is what it seems.
Clouds of gray form the sky,
as I sing my sorrowfilled lullaby.
I lay my head on a pillow of grass,
Trying to hold on to what will not last.
Slowly I'll drift off to sleep,
Silently counting hundreds of sheep.
Peacfully living my cyanide dreams,
Yet, the world that I know is comming undone at the seams.
Madness brew deep within,
Feeding off of my virtues and sins.
Deeper into this dream I will fall,
Hyptnotized by the sirens call.
My conception of reality is starting to slip,
And before you know it I've lost my grip.
Soon I'll awake in a dress of white,
Still unclear of wrong or right.
I can not see,
Beyond the walls of this disorted dream.
Hidden within a land,
Where nothing is what it seems.
Dear youI can't believe it...I just simply can't. I'm so happy yet I'm scared at the same time. Who knows where our future is going to head from here. I'll need to get a job, and find us a place to live, so that I can support the you and momma no matter what. Hell, I'll even drop out of high scholl if that what it takes. You and momma are my world, and the only things I live for. I love you and momma both with all of my heart and know that no matter what, I will always be there. Luca, or Romey... My baby boy or girl, Who ever you may be, I'll love you, forever and always. Even if... You may not be "mine", you are still be mine to love and to hold Because blood is not thicker than water, for water can thin blood. I'll tell you, Momma and I met a long time ago in 8th grade, and maybe then, I wouldn't admitt it, but I fell in love with momma. I held it in until ninth grade, But her and I didn't really start dating until sophmore year. From there, her and I had a l
..Mixed with the dark,
She speaks endlessly.
Then she thinks to herself,
"Will anyone miss me?"
Theres no reason to stay,
But none to leave.
If they never see her again,
Would it be hard to believe?
She stands all alone,
Inside this cold, empty room.
Thinking to herself,
"I'll leave this all behind soon."
Do they even know her,
The girl who cries at night?
The one who puts on a smile,
And swears that shes alright?
She pretends to be perfectly happy,
All for their sake.
So she'll sing herself to sleep,
While I stay awake.
I'll protect her from pain,
Keep her from harms way.
But I feel her growing weaker,
As the sun rises each day.
So If I can't save her,
Than maybe you can.
But I doubt you can save,
What has been enternally damned.
I made a promise to her,
To stand by her side.
And I'll be there to protect her,
Untill the day I die.
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
Roses fade from red to grey,
As your face begins to fade away.
Haunted by all the memories,
Of what had use to be.
Wandering through a maze of broken dreams,
Watching the world come undone at the seams.
Lurid darkness engulf my soul,
I've been forgotten, I'm invisible.
Everything seems so tattered and dark,
Like the torn pages of my shattered heart.
It has become so inevitable now that I look back,
And it collects within my scarred past.
My ambiguous, blemished heart now sees,
How cruel and cold this world can be.
I still can't help but to wonder why,
All hope begins to die..
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More