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Let's Play a Game“Let’s play a game,” Death said to me.
“And whoever wins the first ten rounds will get a second life for free.
The rules are simple, so listen to me.
You must first be born a he or she
With traits categorized, one to three;
The rest will come later, you will see.
You will begin off with guidance and support partially.
Loneliness will come upon you when you are not healthy mentally,
But you will be the key to unlock an antidote to your own disease…possibly.
The trick to the game, though, is to live fully and responsibly without a visit from me.
Live 100 years the way you want, and I’ll gladly give another life to thee.”
“Let’s play a game,” Life said to me
“And whoever wins the first ten rounds will get to live for eternity.
The game is tricky, so listen carefully.
You will be born a he or she
And from the very beginning given a number, one to three.
The numbers represent a path you are willing to go without attempting t
HappinessWhat do you want to obtain in life?
I want that feeling you get when the sun sits upon the edge of the horizon,
The smile that stretches across a once depressed face.
The sensation of more than having butterflies in your stomach.
I want the happiness that comes when cheeks graze each other,
The happiness when fingers brush through your hair,
The happiness that embraces you when arms do.
I want the happiness that confiscates my heart when I come across cyan eyes.
Do you have this type of happiness?
I have it by the hand,
But I want to have it with me,
Isn’t that too much to ask for?
Not when you've had it with you before,
Like a photograph of the orange sun,
Like the smile you capture upon their face,
Like the first time you held their hand.
I want the happiness that teaches me to forget the hardships in life for just one day.
The Little Red BookBeneath my bed, tucked away within a dusty box, lies a leather journal. Engraved upon the pages is a story forgotten. A tight strap keeps it concealed, so no one can be tainted. But as handprints begin to form on the box, slowly the strap begins to break.
Within a white room, I envision the journal left alone. My eyes are only upon it and my chest tightens, and I’m overwhelmed as the strap is sliced. A gale whips from the pages, casting the journal open. I feel the gale swarm around my body like an imprisoned soul finally being released. I’m suffocated. The room’s brightness is increased. The journal lies open and written down on the welcoming page in blue ink is a four sentence wish. “Please be better,” I recall. Upon close observation, I can see the words lifting from the paper. The forgotten wish is pieced together before me. And each individual word is a dagger into my heart. The spacing between each word expands. The sentences are reorganized and form
Vice VersaLife isn’t what everyone expected it to be
It’s in a disguise to trick the blind
It’ll gobble you up or kick you down
It’s truly Death hiding behind the mask
Death is the opposite of everyone’s expectations
It’s hiding behind the mask that everyone gladly greets
It’ll embrace anyone in warm arms and tell anyone they’re worth it
It’s truly Life in a disguise
Life and Death or vice versa
Facts, or the truth, are what we don’t want to hear
They’re deafening enough as they’re spoken
They want people to suffer in their power
It’s what makes Lies so lovely
Lies are what we wish will connect to our senses
They’re so lovely to us and want us to believe in their profoundness
They keep people sane and away from the Truth
It’s what distracts us from the Truth
Lies and the Truth or vice versa
Love is truly a painful fairytale
It’s an accident waiting to happen
Behind its back it ho
A Place Where No One DiesThere was always a story, where a grave had never been dug, someone never became an elder, or an illness had never made someone sick. It was a story about a place, where no one ever died. However, the story was never spoken to us directly. We all visualized it when darkness came around.
Death will never be an option.
An illness will never be castigation.
The pain and sorrow that millions have suffered
Can all be at rest and will never be clustered.
Shut those eyes, little darling,
Life awaits you, where darkness is even welcomed.
Years have passed and that loved one is gone.
Memories aren’t as clear as the crystal dawn.
But once those eyes are shut and the colors are painted,
This place will never leave you tainted.
Hush now, little darling,
There will never be another happier place to dwell in.
There they are; the loved ones that were gone.
They are so beautifully drawn
In a world where they have been waiting for years
And haven’t, yet, shed their gleeful tears.
A Blinded WorldDo they not see how much we have in common?
You and I have fallen greater than six feet
We are crushed by the weight of the graves we’ve encountered
And the loneliness that overwhelms us
This world is blind
Blinder than world engulfed by darkness
But yet I see you and how much you do not acknowledge this
You have witnessed bloodshed on your hands
And the corpse thrown at your feet
Those words you said were the very daggers that killed him
And now you say there is no other living person who can understand this
You are blinded by ignorance
Blinder than I am when I thought love approached me
And yet you see me without loving parents embracing me
I may not have had blood splattered upon my body
From the words that were never meant to be a poison
But a corpse was laid before me with ivory sheets beneath her
I was thrown under the bus by life itself and ran over
I am blinded by false hope
As blind as the world
But yet I still see what we have in common
Flooded by s
Continuous VoicesIt all began when I was ten
I found what lingered in my head disturbing
And it wasn’t until I grabbed a pen
And saw what truly lingered when I began writing.
There were continuous voices within my head
I was not one to favor them dead
Although, they had violet images attached
The way I wrote them matched.
Since then, the voices have changed
Octaves have risen and lowered
Their words have exchanged
And eventually became uncensored.
These continuous voices have brought war
Ones with an uprising roar
And at moments I want to kill the sound
For they are so profound.
Yet, they continue to crescendo
And welcome me to a hidden story
And sometimes they decrescendo
Leaving me alone to the world’s beauty.
Eight years with these continuous voices
And they have given me remarkable choices
One with the most beautiful fiery star
To the one with an unforgiving scar.
Writing is NothingThese words aren’t what they meant before.
The page I had written them on still remains blank,
As if the story was never created.
The insertion point crosses the page,
Plugging in the letters that I type.
But as my eyes scan the page, the point at the bottom’s edge,
Its entirety is white.
as if the story was never created.
The words are clear within my head,
Flooding me with fluid rhyme.
It’s a velvet voice speaking to me,
Telling me of an Epic that must be written.
But my hand hovers over the page,
Trembling, struggling to write.
“This story will never be created.”
Is this what my writing has become?
The spark that ignited and revived my abilities,
Heightening my capabilities,
Has dimmed, and I’m left with a flickering light
That will die out someday.
Is today that day?
Will I be left alone in the darkness
With these words scrambling throughout my head?
Will I die before another story is finished?
Is a single word not worth
Crashing WavesIt was here that you told me of my faults
It was here you fell to your knees and told me you no longer wanted us
Your words have shoved me further below than you think
I’m on the edge and ready to dive off
Into the crashing waves
The love that you had shown me
Now is a fragment of a drowning emotion
I would rather inhale water than have my growing hate strangle me
It was your fault to have hypnotized me
With a world I was promised I would receive
Yet, I stand here without a single thing in my name
My name no longer belongs to me
For you have already taken it
Your words have trapped me on this edge
Before the crashing waves
I’m ready to dive off, though
And let my suicide be a lesson taught
That you don’t mess with a girl, who has a broken heart
For we are blind and need guidance
Around a world that is never kind to us
Let my open arms symbolize
The final hug I’ll ever give
Not to you, but to Death
For he has never left my side and he will continue to be here
I Like You...A LotI like you
Not as a friend
You are my friend
I just like you
More than that
More than friends
That's what I want
This is not good
Did I say something?
Do you hate me now?
I should leave
This was a bad decision
Forget I said anything
This never happened
I can't go back now
You can reject me
I won't be upset
No, I will
But I'll accept it
On second thought
Let just rewind
I won't say how I feel
You won't be confused
I won't be nervous
This never happened
We'll just stay friends
How I feel about that?
It doesn't matter...
I'll get over it
I'm already over you
But deep down
I still like you
I still really like you
I Wish It Would RainI wish it would rain
That it would wash you away
Out of my skin
I wish the clouds would part
Shine light on realization
What I could be
I wish there was a rainbow
An arc of brilliant colors
A sign to give me hope
OneI can remember exactly when i first met you.
The slight crease in your face as you smiled.
If one thing could say something, then that did.
I can remember everything.
You shaped me. Made me.
We grew into each other. We fell apart with each other.
I cannot remember anything without you.
I can remember exactly when we first kissed.
The way your lips felt soft and curious, against mine.
If one thing could say something, then that did.
I'd live a million miles away.
Another life and world away, with you.
If I know what love is, it is because of you.
Pearl When your heart is broken
Don't believe those liars.
The ones who say,
"There's other fish in the sea"
Why bother with a smelly, common fish,
When you can find a pearl?
And my darling…
You are a pearl to me.
The Betrayal yet to be Forgave.Do you wish to live or wish to die
the choice is yours and not mine.
Why destroy such a beautiful thing,
just for pointless self-hatred?
To loathers looking to despise,
from lost lovers
to the sudden outburst of cries.
The heartfelt plea
is now stubborn
but not pleasantly surprised
by your betrayal,
now the pale kiss
because you was unfaithful in my eyes.
Its an uphill struggle
trying to scrape through unscathed
knowing i was broken.
Now you ask me what is wrong
then you ask me why i speak so grave,
the fact is you don't know the truth
behind, the betrayal yet to be forgave.
Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe...The dark daunting whispers of
bounced off the whitewashed walls of my
And shook me from my resting-
And stole my soul back into the world-
the rest of the lonely dreaming world-
of trouble; chore; of melancholy burden bore.
I paced the floor to and frow;
my heavy awkward steps
slightly out of sync.
My oafish unfacile feet-
my entire body!-
wanted and wished
with the dancing shadows.
To twirl in adept unison
with the tinkling of footfalls
lightly treading upon the tufted floor.
However, my timing was as raw as my talent.
And as for my balance-
Could not be ignored.
And so I weaved ‘round the black withering forms.
Profound finesse: a fake façade I wore
whilst my lower limbs quivered and quaked,
and to my knees-
I hit the floor.
With faltering fiery flame;
I accomplished poise
upon fluctuating knees:
on the blanched floor.
My will to rise aga
Beautiful.They say I’m beautiful
Because of the way my crystalline heart reflects light off its fractured surface
Well, that isn't a reflection
It’s rejection of the light because it’s all too much to handle
Throw myself away into the dark without even a candle
‘Cause I don’t want to recognize all the pain I’m in
Or realize the truth behind what I am or who I've been
And I tried to make things right but I just keep on making wrong
I never listened to the angel on my shoulder when she called
I count my tears like they’re experience
And my scars like they’re mysterious
And that’s a feeling I’ll remember –
Watching as you left
Watching as you ended what was meant to be forever
And I can see it in their eyes; everyone can empathize
So they say that I’m beautiful because they don’t know what else to say.
But if being broken is beautiful, then it’s the ugliest way...
YouI can't describe you in any form,
But you're the sun that waits for a single moment
To shimmer down the warmth that I need.
You're the fiery flares that peel off the sun
And brighten up the darkness that I have traveled through.
You're the rippling ocean on a tranquil night,
The cyan tides that wrap around me instead of drowning me.
You're even the depth of the ocean
That I wish to adventure downward and discover what you hold.
You're fire and water interlaced with each other…
And yet have a mellifluous personality that shines enough that can give sight to the blind…
I can't describe you in any form,
But you're the tranquility I oh so desperately need,
And the light that can help me exit the darkness.
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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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