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A LetterIt's crazy how much a letter can change your life.
When I was really young it was a way to stay in contact with my best friend. We would write colorful letters to each other about our lives and reminders of our friendship and love.
I miss those letters.
When I was a teenager letters were a way for me to forget. To write angry letters that would never be sent to my mom about her drinking, her attitude, and her absence.
There was one letter that was written in the form of a story...one which my dad found...and outed me to my family.
Now, I'm a little bit older, a tad bit wiser, and the letters keep coming.
Not that I write, but one's that are written between two people I care about very much who are at war, my mom and dad.
Today I found out about a letter.
One that my dad sent to my mom.
It didn't talk of love, or anguish, but rather an informative yet hanus message about one of their post-divorce agreements.
The worst part of the letter, is that the words that were written were not his,
InsomniaIts slowly killing me.
Never thought I would be an insomniac.
Shut up, Shut up.
Fuck, I'm talking to myself again.
Why can't you just shut up and go to sleep?
Think about something.
Black dress, White dress, beautiful and an hour has passed by.
Why the hell haven't I fallen asleep?
Okay, think of white. Only white.
And, all thoughts are gone.
Fuck, I'm still talking to myself.
Shut up, Shut up!
When did I get here, to this terrible place.
I never thought I'd be an insomniac.
WordsMy speech is one of my greatest victories,
And one of my greatest faults.
In a moment the wrong words may escape,
Turning your life upside down.
Once it is whispered into the world,
It is forever held in the arms of others.
In their power, to do with what they may.
The most dangerous and vital tool in the world is speech.
How does one live without knowing its power, its importance.
Anguish, Beauty, Life, all in symbols, meanings,
My speech is one of my greatest victories,
And one of my greatest faults.
The Ordinary LesbianSix years ago I began looking for information regarding my sexuality. I found books about love, struggles, and fame (namely, Ellen DeGeneres), but I was never able to find a how-to lesbian book for Dummies. The question continued to enter my mind, "What makes a good lesbian?" Six years later, I found the answer. There are several different parts that make-up the perfect lesbian; fashion, relationships, PDA, and pride. According to dictionary.com a lesbian is defined as, "of, pertaining to, or characteristic of female homosexuality." Although this is true, it doesn't contain the important pieces of the puzzle, those that make up a good lesbian.
One of the most important parts of being a lesbian is making sure that one blends in with the crowd. It is easy to spot a good lesbian, say, in a gay bar, but it is more difficult to spot a good lesbian in everyday life. For example, if one is riding on a bus and playing the ever popular "spot the gays" game, a bad lesbian would be eas
Drowning, Without my UmbrellaI lose my mom.
And then my dad.
My family falls apart.
My best friend, my love, is gone.
I'm drowning in a sea of rain
Driven to dangerous measures
I'm drowning and I cannot see
The road containing leisure.
No one's here to wipe my tears
Hold my hand and say
Laura, everything's alright
It's going to be okay.
I miss the times when mom was here
To teach me how to stand
I miss the times when dad was there
To make me strong and wise
I miss the ways she talked to me
And how she made me feel
I miss myself
I miss my life
I miss who I used to be
Because that person now is gone
They turned around and fled.
I cannot see her coming back, at least for a long time.
She left long ago, without a soul
Even without a mind.
My Heart on My SleeveYour beauty and strength resonates
I wear my heart on my sleeve
You seem impenetrable, constant.
I talk too much.
You keep secrets, unable to open up to me
I tell you every minor detail, want to share my life with you
You try so hard, yet fall below
I try so hard and fall down low
When will you look me in the eye and tell me everything?
When will I stop pouring my heart out to you.
Impossible, I cannot. You are my everything.
The most beautiful, amazing, smart, endearing, lovely love, my baby.
I just simply wish that you could find the strength to share with me.
Every thought, every moment, your soul, for me to see.
HeavyThe weight on my chest makes it harder to breathe
I feel like I'm swimming in a drowning sea
Crying becomes a continuous habit
From inside, beneath, endless amounts of tragic.
When one part gets better, another gets worse
It's as if god wants my life to go in reverse
I'm slipping; I'm falling, with nothing around
I wish I had someone to take on a pound.
Pulsing through my veins
Running down my arm
Pressure in my hand, numbness.
Heart beating quickly
Twenty minutes later the ritual resumes
And only to find my hand becoming tenser, number, harder.
I look around with nothing to be found
I sit alone in fear
Do I hear footsteps or the pipes in the distance?
I know not what to be afraid of
But I cannot hide the fear.
Hey YouHey you.
With the perfect smile,
Even if it hasn't been seen
In a little (or long) while.
I hope you're feeling okay.
And I think you're
Doing really great today;
You are one less day away
From your perfect tomorrow.
Stormy nightPouring rain
Just another night
In this sad existence
The rain feels refreshing
The darkness is comforting
And they bring a smile
To my melancholic face
I am one with the night
One with the storm
Standing under the streetlight
Waiting for life to happen
Capturing CreativityBe still.
A timid bird, poetry lurks
beneath your freckled skin,
the rustle of ruffled feathers
hidden in the poundings
of your predator heart.
In quiet moments,
you can hear the chirrups
of her breathing,
stone-heavy words tumbling
between the cliffs of your ribs.
Coax her gently
with ink stained fingertips
and rhyme-tangled tongue.
To The HeroesJustice?
I'm not sure you know what that means.
To you the very word of "justice" suggests that:
Those who do not comply are simply targets to be broken.
Those who do not agree with you, must always be denied.
Those who have the greatest freedom are chained and made to kneel.
And those who choose to fight are labeled 'incarnates of evil'.
Doesn't it all sound a little familiar?
I think it does...
So tell me, oh great hero,
Having fought monsters like me for so many years...
How does it feel to have finally become one?
The Last GiftGod traces the letters on tombstones, fondly
remembering the deceased’s first steps
into His house. When He closed
the gates of Eden, the whole world
became a cemetery: the untouched garden
a hospital waiting room, overflowing
with flowers to be arranged
upon funeral wreaths, waiting for Him
to bestow His last gift.
your perfume tastes like shitit was love
that made me pull
the poison rose,
but no longer will
i allow myself to lie
in the shallow coffin
of your body,
no longer will my veins
stretch to compensate
for your insatiable need.
you are fresh cancer
in my cross-infected heart,
but honey i'll pull you out
with my own damn fingers
if it means saving myself.
time quantum egresswe bury our hearts
in the heavy glow of the horizon,
the electric hum of the New Moon
digging through the skull
we wander stateless, eyes blankly set
in dispassion. lost souls of a lost time
dragging wire-shells and pale furnaces
and we have outlived our selves.
basic human anatomywe're composed of half a cage
which holds the organ that
was intended for pumping blood,
but really dictates our feelings,
and a three pound glob
pushes words out so fast
it's a wonder our whole
existence depends on it.
then there's the necklace of
vertebrae, held together with
the most sacred thread
in the world; one snip, and
the beads fall off and shatter.
the space between your legs
is the real cradle of humanity.
of course, there's the prepackaged
set of guts you receive
with one easy payment of a life.
you don't hear many poems about
the kidneys or pancreas, but
they deserve as much credit
as the romanticized heart and lungs.
The Isolation ChamberWithin the isolation chamber
Lonely is my fight
Dark and scared I sit beneath
The piercing, harsh bright light.
Without the truth I speak all lies
Within my truth I stay
Isolated, perpetrated, forced to obey.
Why not just take us all away
All the gays, all the strays
Everyone who lives their way.
Outside the isolation chamber
Sleeps the birds and bees
Willow trees and perfect tales
The normal, one's who please.
Anyone who can withstand
The straight and guided wind
Those who take the fears of life
And remove them from within.
5:20i went to the forest
to purify my lungs
then i saw the thick
three letter scar
i left in a slender
birch, and wondered how
i could let you poison
another living thing.
moths aren't afraid of pins
till they're stuck to a piece of styrofoam.
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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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