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I look into the night sky
The stars, they're so beautiful
So bright, I find myself wondering,
What is the purpose of those unearthly beings?
I look down at my small hands
As the night sky fills up my mind
Suddenly my dreams of being bigger seem so...
But what if?
If I was bigger
If I was more important...
Would I be able to catch one?
I sit staring out the window
Out in the night I see something peculiar
I encounter a shooting star
I shut my eyes and leave my being behind
And to that one falling star
I confide my dreams.
I look down at my hands
They've grown bigger
Calloused with experience.
As I walk out in the night
I encounter a shooting star
Again, with a faint familiarity
I trust my dreams to that star.
It's the same dream.
At that moment I realize with a sudden clarity
Just what stars are.
Leaving behind the other celestial beings
Who are too scared to begin the journey
Too scared to be extraordinary
Just like the rest of the world.
The sadness of leav
Teens in Society
Have you ever daydreamed of your childhood when you were small and carefree? have you ever gone out with a small group of close friends and acted childish just for the heck of it? Have you ever been told that you're being immature by an older person? Every single one of us has experienced these feelings before. Being a teenager can be really hard. You're not supposed to act like a child because you're too old for that. At the same time, it's difficult to act like an adult all day, everyday. We're still young and learning how to grow up. We learn through the process of trial-and-error on the journey to being more mature. Because of this, society has developed a general stereotype for teenagers. Rebellious, violent, angsty, dramatic, and out-of-control. Really, is that honestly true? Sure, we can be kind of overly dramatic and we're sometimes a handful but not all the time. But, I won't say there's not one single teenager out there that fits that
Just Be Yourself
We spend the day hiding our personalities,
Appearing to be...
Someone else completely.
How to get people to like you?
It starts with something simple.
Something so very primitive.
Yet we can never seem to get it right.
You wake up in the morning and prepare your daily mask.
Your mask of shame.
Shame for your personality.
Shame for your feelings.
Shame for yourself.
We convince ourselves we have a right to be ashamed.
Sometimes we manage to convince everyone else.
But, honestly, what do we have to be ashamed of?
We're all rare little creatures on the inside.
Creative, artistic, loyal, beautiful creatures.
When did we begin to think it was okay to hide ourselves?
To hide from ourselves?
Hiding behind a layer of cosmetics, and expressions.
Becoming vain, conniving, haughty, dramatic, malicious things.
How do you get people to like you?
Stop wallowing in self-pity.
Stop being so self-conscious.
Stop acting like you're above others.
SorryTo the future children of this world, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that life is so tough.
And that not everyone is going to like you no matter how spectacular you truly are.
I'm sorry, this world is filled with hate and prejudice.
That everyday innocent people are killed either by themselves or others.
That because you're different you might have to run just a little harder than everyone else.
I'm sorry for the fact that true friends are so hard to come by.
And that one day they will still hurt you.
What sets people apart is whether they're worth hurting for or not.
I'm sorry that one night (or many a night) you will end up lying in the darkness crying all alone.
And that you might never know the reason why.
And I'm sorry that you're not given a choice to be born and the only thing you can do is make the best of it.
That sometimes hard work just won't cut it.
I'm sorry that sometimes you might be alone in a place you never wished to be in; with not a soul in the world to watch over you.
Coming CleanI'm beyond life, I'm just so sick of it all that I give up trying to blend in and just let myself be me.
Am I really to blame for not wanting to have my feelings dragged through the mud?
I hate being shoved in front of audiences just for their amusement.
I'm tired of putting in the effort for everyone.
It's not so much to ask that we all just accept each other without all the judging.
Stop trying to act like you're top of line, that alone won't make you shine.
I'm sick of acting like I'm not hurting when it feels like my heart's just stopped.
I don't want to play the same old game where I'm always at a disadvantage no matter what I try.
I'm disgusted with how everyone around me tries to make me change when it JUST CAN'T HAPPEN!
I'm sickened at the people who continually try to make me feel uncomfortable in my own skin.
I am SORRY, I really AM but I just can't keep on being so SAD.
I'm tired of being molded to fit the needs of others.
I am a creative,
MagicA long time ago, when the world was new,
and longer than anyone can remember
magic existed in the world.
It healed the sick
and didn't cause anything bad.
Magic was for good
and never harmed the people.
Then one day
a sorcerer broken by pain
and an outcast of society
used his magic
to hurt and cause pain.
He killed with his magic,
and made people suffer
in ways that should never be allowed.
The evil sorcerer went across the land
never sparing a soul and making
curses that could never be broken.
Five of the best magicians were shocked
and banded together
to stop his evil reign over the people.
Nothing the good magicians did worked
and they were faced with a final
completely unspeakable action.
The good magicians joined hands,
bound their power together
and used their life force
to stop his ways of evil.
The evil sorcerer fell,
and after that it was decided
that magic should never be used again
in case someone else decided
to use it the way the sorcerer did.
Now because of pain and a bro
MonophobiaYour hand found my heart with ease,
just as your words always found cracks in weakened armor,
and with the same fluidity that constantly drew my gaze,
filling me with childish need atop the comfort of company,
even if lonely:
we were never ones to stand individually.
Then you play my heart strings,
with the skill of devoted pianists and the poise
of Egyptian princes,
garbed in such confidence I have no choice but to move my lips
to words hummed beneath your steady breath;
the words my heart stammers over,
as weak a fool as ever.
Necessities mash like fevered lips,
merging us as one being,
one entity of which to rejoice with proclamations of fragile love.
and when our lips do make war,
I kiss you into my own oblivion,
drawing you deeper inside me to dwell and comfort,
though you decay fleshly walls
and expanding sacks of breath,
a bloody clash of love producing broken wills and such
mangling us further towards impending destruction:
The Wishing TreeTraveling along a concrete road
until the pavement turned to grass
and the grass turned to dirt.
Just when the land turned barren and bland
an abandoned park stood rusty and proud.
Little Jessica walked along that dirt path
not minding the hot sun
or how her backpack got heavier with every step.
When she finally reached
that abandoned park
Little Jessica played in the slide
and swung on the swings
that creaked with every rock.
She bored soon and left
that barren park
going to the one sign of life
A sorrowful tree, with no leaves left
stood near that abandoned park.
Little Jessica, feet scuffing the dirt
went to this poor alone tree.
From her backpack, Little Jessica
pulled paper upon paper out.
With bits of string and tiny fingers
Little Jessica attached every single strip of paper
to the branches of that leafless tree
as high and far as she could reach
until the dry branches could no longer be seen.
When she was done
Little Jessica surveyed her work,
proud of the job
BlindWhen I close my green eyes
If I focus I can see
People and places from my past
Etched in my memory
If a blind man closes his eyes
What can he possibly see
Without any visual images
Stored in his memory
How do I describe colour
To man who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes
When I close my green eyes
I use my mind to conjure up
Dreams of the future, based on
Pages already written in my book
If a blind woman closes her eyes
What future can she see
Unable to visualise
Her fate and her destiny
How do I describe colour
To woman who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes
Make it rainFeel the hurt,
Feel the pain.
Let it go,
And make it rain.
Caressed by subtle lips,
And liquid finger tips.
Our cheeks brush,
Its more than enough.
But then she's lost.
Consumed by the now,
Restrained by the then
And overwhelmed by what's to come.
Sleeping fear and waking dread.
Monsters hiding under your bed.
Twisting turns, squirming threads,
Dancing lights throughout your head.
You must be willing to risk it all,
Standing strong to watch it fall.
I'll grab your hand through all the pain,
And pull you out as I make it rain.
WantedEver wanted to scream "I hate you!" To the world?
Ever wanted to burn that big stalk of homework on your desk?
Ever wanted to hit someone for being stupid?
Ever wanted to just let it out
Then just smile and say "Oh, its fine."
When you're really thinking
Why do I have to do all the damn work again?
Ever wanted to slap some sense
Into people for being
Have you ever said "I'm ok."
When really, you're not?
Have you ever wanted to believe in lies?
Because there nicer then the truth?
Have you ever been ignored?
Because of what you believe in?
Have you ever thought the world would end?
Because you're having a bad day?
Have you ever thought of never waking up
Because you don't want to see the next day?
Have you ever wanted a friend?
November 2010 Haikuthon30. Silence of twilight.
Your hair tickles my nose and
I smell your shampoo
on the breeze--almond and baked
apple. How I love the fall.
29. Tiny paws beneath
the crack in the door. Babe, let
the kitty inside.
28. dear wide-eyed kitty:
a closing door means bad news.
please, mind your small head.
27. The horizon is
lit, a thousand words unsaid,
and I don't find you.
26. In my solitude,
I write you love stories and
imagine you lived.
25. Boy versus turkey.
One wields a long stick, and one
a sharp beak. Who wins?
24. Dear dad: your silence
is heartbreaking. Don't you care?
I don't think you do.
23. Small ball of fur: my
purse is not yours to explore.
Please, keep your nose out.
22. Lose your coat, my love.
Just stay here tonight. The stars
are singing for you.
21. Wild-berry lotion
and soft swan-hands on my skin.
To wake up with you.
20. Dear innocent eyes:
your whiskers tickle. Please stop.
I want to kiss you.
19. Ode to a
SuicideThe pain and agony
Of every day life
The sheer will to live
All of those people
Telling you you're wrong
That you are worthless
Slowly gets in your skull
You start pondering
"What would it be like with me gone?"
Soon the thought
Take over your soul
You practice how
You'll take your life
To give it a try
Then one day
You're pushed over the edge
You take your weapon
And pull the life out of its body
All the lives
You left behind
Wonder what they did wrong
What they could have done
But its too late
You're already gone
They shall mourn
You won't care
You are above the world
In the world of the heavens
They are left behind
In the world of suffering
You left behind
All your pain and agony
But that's all they feel
The ones that remain
Soon one day
Someone you knew
Will come and
Join you too
Completing the cycle
That will never end
It only gets worse
As we progress
So be careful how you say
Word to your friends
Cause one day
One of their lives may end
i promise forever--L.6dear boy:
i feel your fingers--calloused with work and sunbeams--stroking my hair, trailing my thigh, and i smile despite the fact that it's two a.m. and i should be sleeping. you have a way of keeping my veins burning with your name long after the world has fallen silent, and i wonder if you ever miss me in quite these same ways.
i have a list of favorite moments spent with you but i'm afraid that i can't show you yet because it's not complete. everytime i try to describe them, my mind goes blank with remembering and by the time i wake back up from dreaming of you i've forgotten just where i left off.
you have a way of caressing my cheek with the softest of words over a phone line, and sometimes i could swear that all i think about is you. and it gets cold here at night but i know you'll be waiting to warm me up behind closed eyes so i don't stop to put a coat on. and sometimes, i don't think you realize how much you mean to
The endless thoughts of the night,
Rambling, sometimes not making sense.
Soothing away the worries of everyday life.
So very whimsical.
But every once in a while
A special dream comes along
The kind of dream that you remember forever.
The dreams that lulls your mind into a sense of ease.
The sort of dream that makes you genuinely happy.
That dream that makes you feel like you never want to wake up.
There's always that one dream
That you remember for life
Even if you're not sure what the heck it means.
You just can't help smiling when you think of it.
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More