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sidestepit never felt so good as when
we sat around our own doubts
and looked at each other through
their purple haze.
i saw a life then, inside a...
no. fuck it. the truth died.
my life held it once, it really did,
but a thought, a single thought
blocked out all others and shades of grey
covered me and then you.
you never forgave me.
once was green, and a girl fell in love
then they lived in a world of their own making
which slowly fell around them. bad
desicions and craftsmanship.
a single thought and it blew away.
i could disgust a person in more ways than one,
there are a million things i could do
right this very moment
but i'll sidestep the problem
and let it all roll by in masked indifference.
i told myself not to look.
now i'm stuck inside out
just waiting for the right moon;
something bigger to show me the way.
isn't that just...?
no. theres no words.
a disappointment, that's what it was.
i wish you would look a little harder,
maybe a little a longer, then i could
feel satisfaction. while they chase and scramble
i will stay here, oblivious.
such a sweet thing could rot my teeth,
instead my spirit dies just a little
just enough of you, to find me lost
just a small favour in a sea of hopelessness
just all this bullshit piling up in order to ignore
the sweet thing turning sour in my mouth.
it's not going to happen, is it?
no. i didn't suppose there were words.
radiancewhere did the starlight go?
tin cans rattling, cards flashing
all different colours
but i just want to know
truth in a lie, where did it come from?
the reason behind this life
or liveliness in the scent of flowers
just because you picked them for me.
stumble to and fro, knocks and blows,
punch-drunk but not loved, not in such a way
that permits one to fall and pick it up again
with blessed little bites and bruises, instead
i sit in a bed, unmoving.
undesired. a precious gem hidden in rock
that no one sees but i feel naked, those
eyes that cut into my flesh. unnerve me.
lie to me.
i awoke this morning to the shape of a shudder
swift in the morning light, nestling
in the lines under my eyes.
and the starlight; beauty shone in it's radiance.
kiss boyssmall drop of honey
to make my lips sweeter
chase after the best prize ever
all about determination
chicken little touching too far
up that creamy white thigh
round the corner, trouble's a brewing
whos scared? i'm not
just a boy, just a girl, playing a game
give us the name
of all the scaredy cats who left this place
when they found out
just how far you had to go.
didnt know how much it would hurt.
we'll make a list and then burn it up
in the fire of our fun, of our love,
while holding each other just like kids,
little buttons of life who don't know
a goddam thing
he squeezed my hand and underneath too
my skirt rode up like crazy but it didn't
seem to bother him
flesh on flesh; touch and go
small drop of honey and a killer of a chase
then maybe i could kiss boys too
Monsterplease, come inside
the warmth in the room
could help me, or you.
think we both have the chills.
got them yesterday
when it moved again
the fragility scared me a little
but it's power over me, well,
that is strength i didn't know
it's funny how fear can take hold
bring everything you never wanted to imagine
into the curve of a belly
so small, and yet...
it strikes terror in my heart.
and i couldn't picture it's face if i tried
but i know the shape of it's clothes well enough
bruiseif the pieces that you just shattered,
and sent crashing to the floor,
could express a truth or meaning in this,
i reckon it would be worth it.
the words escaped your mouth in no line, but
a confused spiel of rage and anger, like a bullet,
hitting me so hard, indenting the shock into my skin
and here i was, thinking that although i had tripped,
fallen a little, i could get back up, keep on going.
no more; i'm bruised and beaten, gone.
we are dead now, a collapsed party.
funny word, as if it were all good times.
my oh my, i am
hurt. so hurt.
it hurts to breathe, it hurts to live
and you can't know, you won't help.
and although i am straying from all this,
with blood on my hands and tears in my eyes
i manage to sit back up again and reach inside my own heart.
a bloody affair, that proves nothing.
i have nothing to show for all of this except,
you will be sorely missed.
bedside manneroh shit.
we've hit a dry spell;
the burn stopped. fizzled,
that's what it did, the fire drying everthing up,
hold on, i'll sweep them away,
it should be that easy.
finger fidgeting with flames and foolish
thoughts about terms of endearment
and how i know the time is right for me
wish i really knew.
i feel like im lying on a table
with lights, faces, fingers,
poking at me, checking my body
making sure the time is right.
you feel so far away from that place;
the desicion is all on me; the pressure
of a man's cold fingers pressing on my chest
assessing my heart, the depth of my love,
and seeing, if that much really is enough.
is it enough for me?
is it even there?
time and place, so crucial
to a thing of this magnitude.
i am thing, you are it, we are us,
and i have to tell you, exactly,
absoulutely, that i
just. don't. know.
but i'm sorry. i know my
bedside manner is a little uncertain,
but i'm getting there.
and that's the best i can hope for.
The Ultimatethe hand shakes.
it's late at night and one would think
and yet i can't.
beliefs have shattered, pieces falling into other places.
what can i do but write? what can i do but
pick and pick at all the intricacies of the nothingness
i live in.
the life lost
oh how the cliche laughs at me
and mocks the tears that flow freely
down the face i thought i knew.
but all the words are dried up now.
but i can find hope in this
in the way i close my eyes to make it go away
and in the way i shudder at all the thoughts
in the way the hand shakes.
if i can still feel...
it is only the ultimate sensation that i fear,
the one of death in all parts.
Discovery- paper thoughtsor shift. i suppose it means the same thing.
language bounces in my dried-up mind
i feel soaked, wrung, hung out to dry
left in the ambiguous wind
have you ever been left in such a place as this?
the air is so warm and sticky
with recycled philosophies on life
that click with names and words that attach themselves to my skin
but they don't matter
nothing is made, there is nothing to hold
grasp at anything; a thought, a reason, a hand
that could hold yours back
and bring comfort into a life without
thought and reason.
look for it, try to grab it through the sea of
absoulutely nothing at all.
the season turned, but i did not.
i made no great discovery;
after all the work, the pain
all there is paper thoughts that mark a
love or solid beliefs or anything
that could make a human being
want to discover more.
i can only write it down.
theres no more than that.
She's a WriterShe sits at her desk
Her headphones in,
The world shut out.
She bleeds for others
As words fly from
Her mind to her fingertips.
She stares at the screen,
At every little comment,
The good and the painful.
She forms her emotions
Into books and poems
To throw away the hurt.
She's a writer,
And her best weapons
Are her mind and her pen.
BetrayedI won't swallow your lies anymore
I can't stand your presence
You used to be my friend
But you're nothing to me now
And soon you'll be
Another bad memory
I won't be able to forget
Do you know what it feels like...To be lonely?
To be bullied?
To be called ugly?
To be unattractive?
To be compared to other women?
To be considered unnormal?
To be unloved even though you give love to others?
To face issues that you don't in reality know how to fix?
To think that your goal you're reaching for, is unattainable?
To feel like the cause of many people's problems?
To be held up on a high pedistal that you can't get down off of?
To realize that people don't like you based on your personailty?
To at no avail, keep up your happy and upbeatness for others?
To look at happy couples and wish that you had someone to be happy with?
To stop fighting for anything anymore?
flower petalsi know that when we touch
that my energy is yours
that we are like flowers
because at our roots
we need water and love,
we reach tall as we can
to get to the sun
and stretch our leaves
to welcome it all;
and when we touch
i know that our skin isn’t skin
too soft for this world
when it grows rough with gravel
so i invite you back to our bed,
soft with the earth
where we can lie gently
and sleep until it is time
You AgainOh, it's you again. I must admit,
The crooning has
The lies have been
And mine are like swords
It's just you and me
In this sick game
I can tell
You're pulling me in,
And I don't have
To pull you down
Sometimes, I've had
And all I see is
Then it became
I don't know
How to escape
Dark to see.
And all I can
Wonder at every
Turn I make
When can it be
SightStars in the night sky
I see beyond that and through
Greatness into darkness, I can fly
Here above the earth I can see the truth
There is an angel that will love me until I die
An artist (revised)
Staring blankly at a white sheet of paper
Can truly be an artist’s worst nightmare
An artist’s duty as its shaper
Their thoughts up in the clouds somewhere
Looking for bits of inspiration
Their eyes searching the skies
Nothing can break their concentration
Nothing can blow out the passion in their eyes
Being an artist does not always mean you are skilled
You do not need to be Picasso or Bach
It means you want to see your dream fulfilled
And that you will never give in to an art block
jackal grinMy orange peel
lips split: the beams
a deck of cards
nana’s worn porch,
and fingers weaving
through grass blades
when the light is
soft and warm.
(have you f
I Don't Come with the Edgesi.
It cries the way dragonflies leave ripples
in the rain. On days I swallow
whirlpools for breakfast and
drown with libraries for fun,
I can almost allow myself to forget
And it doesn’t want to make
me kneel on my shoulders
or pluck the weeds
from my scars;
I can see it try so hard
to be my friend.
But if I could choose
polka dots over tail lights
and sun screen over
I wouldn’t think thrice
or even once
not to blow the candles
on my grave.
That’s why I keep
the colons of analog clocks
under my tongue;
so I could keep the
figures eight of cliché’s
as keepsakes for old age.
I like to think infinities
have loopholes; tree rings
that dissolve into each other
with exhales for a caress.
And just when the tones
of lyrics would enter the
eutony of names, only then
would I drift into love.
When I wouldn’t be holding
my blood in my temples-
when all I am is a thought.
The running footsteps
we’ve come to cla
flinchslammed against the wall
pushed against the wall
thrown against the wall
its all the same
it all hurts
makes my skin an unnatural colour
makes my mind unnaturally cluttered
and i cant think
can only feel
pain. pain. pain.
and you think
you think you know
i won\'t do anything
all your punches
all your throws
add to my anger
and one day it will explode
and you will be sorry
you\'d like that, wouldn\'t you?
maybe you wouldn\'t
but its too late now
i\'ve got the power now
the gun is in my pocket
and i am in your house
yelling all this to you
did you listen when i yelled?
did you stop when i screamed?
so i won\'t.
i oughtta teach you a lesson
you filthy piece of shit
my hand is shaking
and sweating too
but i know what i want to do
what i NEED to do
malice is in my veins
and murder in my blood
but your screams fill my ears
my teeth grind
i cant decide
i cannot sympathise with you!
you dont d
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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