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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.
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
The PointIt’s the taste of cake mix on the spoon, that first time you ‘help’ bake a cake.
It’s seeing the bright world afresh after a dark nightmare, when you first wake.
It’s when you make them laugh and, in that moment, everyone loves a clown.
It’s when your heart stops before the roller coaster plummets down, down.
It’s when the lights go out before your favourite band plays and you scream.
It’s that moment you look around and everything’s perfect enough to be a dream.
It’s the anticipation of waiting for a new episode of your favourite television show.
It’s the first time you listen to your favourite record and you just sort of know.
It’s reading a book cover-to-cover and a million times more and still crying at the ending.
It’s the stiff, tight, real feeling of a smiling scab as you watch the wound mending.
It’s when you first meet your best friend and you hate each other (but in a good way).
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.
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..
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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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