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The NightmareThe nightmare hides behind my eyelids. I try to refuse it, curling onto my side and clutching the sheets in clawed fingers, warding it away with my tense body. But I feel it's heavy presence, waiting for me still.
Hanging on my bedpost like a tangled spider, the dream catcher rustles it's beaded arms. There are more, hanging on hooks around my bedroom, some smaller than others, handmade and bought. An army of soldiers to watch me struggle beneath the oppression of my fears.
I moan and tangle myself in the duvet. The first tendrils of darkness creep through me and wrap around my fighting body, before dragging me deep, deep into it's clutches. In the bed, my arm lashes out, my knuckles slamming into the wall. The pain resounds through my unconsciousness, but does not free me. I'm already caught. Already drowning.
I'm trapped in a rolling sea of shadows, alone, blind and deaf. I scream, perhaps, but the darkness invades my mouth. I cry, and the salty tears are swept away, just like me.
Through the windowI press my hand to the glass and spread my fingers wide.
I watch you do the same;
Me on my side, and you on the other.
My breath mists the window between us,
But I can still see the brilliance
Of each star in your eyes.
My, aren't the stars beautiful?
Daddy's voice"Why are you crying, mommy?" The boy looked at his mother's face, concern welling from the depths of his innocent, star bright eyes.
She smoothed down his wild hair, smiled. "Because, my son, I heard your daddy's voice."
With curiosity, the boy turned to the trees across from them where the wind called. He thought he heard something, but it was only the sound of rustling leaves and the twitter of a bird. "What did he say?"
His mother looked up. The sunlight fell upon her face in gentle, caressing waves, pooling in her tears until they shimmered like drops of silver. "Can't you hear him?" The boy listened harder, and though he could hear the whistle of a car, trailing up the distant road, and the soft bubbling laughter of the river, whatever his mother could hear remained hidden to him. "I can't hear him."
She gathered him into her arms. "He said 'I love you.'"
The boy, in the comfort of his mother's embrace, pressed his ear to her chest. And there, playing in every beat of her heart, h
Seven months .... Eh six.... is a lifetimeWhen we look back and remember how
It all began with an exchange of simple greetings
How are you became I love you.
One-hundred and eighty days gone by;
How I wouldn't change I thing.
Oh, how seven months is a lifetime....
Its only been six, my dear.
What you should have saidI needed someone to tell me
I was beautiful
I was smart
You never thought to tell me
You let me fall
Believing the words of an earlier fiend
When I should have been believing you.
NothingI'll never tell you how I feel. No-one wished to know before, so I learned to hold my feelings in and look up in hidden understanding when I hear the others speak. And when the box, the box of conflicting thoughts and painful ministrations of my heart, came close to overflowing, I clutched my head and sobbed, until it was bearable again. Because that was what I'd taught myself to do.
I'll always smile in your face. Not because I'm happy, though my heart sure skips a best to see you, but because it is expected. Anomalies are not allowed. Anomalies mean that others will see how hard I'm trying to pretend, and then they will worry.
Worry about me.
I'll let you in, but never close enough. My fears of disappointing you are already manifesting. I can never speak the entirety of my mind, I can never put myself ahead of you.
I am not a person. I am a servant. I am a mirror, held up to show you what you want to see. What I believe you want to see.
I am not a person, with feelings I can show.
I hope it rainsI hope it rains.
I hope it rains and rains until all memories of summer are washed away, trampled beneath grumbling feet into the slop of mud, and left forgotten. Those sharp, silver needles will shred the hopes and crush the dreams, as dark clouds above flock like angry moths to a flame.
I hope it rains and the storms come. I'll watch it from my rain cracked window as the earth shudders and burns beneath it's powerful onslaught. I'll watch it with an intensity that is only just beaten by a sudden whip of lightning, until roads become rivers and fields become seas, until I am the island I feel I am inside.
I hope it rains and the wind screams through the thick tangled net of branches. I'll hear the clatter of water on the roof, drowning out the sound of my tears as I curl up in a ball on the window ledge and rest my face against the glass. Even that icy coldness is no match for the dark loneliness within.
I hope it rains, and then maybe, just maybe, they might understand me.
Just another dayIt's just another day. Another day of waking before the sun, when the darkness outside matches the darkness behind your eyes. It's possible to ignore the infernal clock, ticking on and on beside the bed, but another five minutes, or ten or twelve, curled on your side can never halt the flow of time.
It's just one more moment. One more moment of heavy silence that no strength of music can detain. It's that awkward moment when you have nothing more to say to that person you've known for years. While you search beneath your tongue for something, the silence stretches on endlessly, ominous and terrifying, like staring into an abyss.
And when that moment shifts into another, you'll find yourself walking beside that person you've known for years, and now hardly know at all. The distance between you, if only at a glance, seems easily displaced. However, even when your in-turned feet, and poor balance, nudges you arm to arm, you never quite touch them. They are untouchable.
It's just another f
Caught in the middleA cinematic scene of unresolved confliction. Standing alone at the centre of an ever expanding line, watching the cord go taut as they walk in opposing directions. How can you decide which side is more important, when both are halves of you? When the line runs straight through your heart? Do you follow one or the other or neither?
No matter what, the string will break, and your heart along with it.
Darling, Don't You DareTo the girl who skips dinner,
Because her reflection hurts more than
To the boy who wears sweatshirts
On hot summer days,
Because he doesn’t want his mother to cry over his
To the boy who weeps uncontrollably
Until he falls asleep,
Because it’s the only way to escape into his
To the girl who spends her days in her bedroom,
Because the dark is more peaceful than her
To the child who gets angry,
Because no one understands.
To the teens who self-harm,
To the ones in recovery,
To the ones that just can’t do it anymore…
For the girl who skips meals
And the boy who wears sweatshirts,
For the boy who cries,
The girl who hides,
And the ones who just can’t do it anymore.
You’ve come this far.
Don’t you dare give up on it, now.
I am the daughter of a sailor.There is pure sea water
rushing through my veins
& my vocabulary can be
just as colorful.
how do I begin to tell you
we all have jungles growing
in our chests?-
by human hands?
I like to pretend
it’s Draco residing
in this chest of mine-
clogging my lungs,
I have forgotten
how to write
or anything with a shred
I have no space left within myself
for celestial, fire breathing dragons-
because I realize now
when I look in the mirror,
I do not see my father.
I screamMy scream is loud.
My scream is honest.
My scream is desperate.
My scream is filled with truth.
Why would nobody hear me?
You're Not DepressedDepression isn’t what you think it is.
You’re just sad.
If you and your boyfriend or girlfriend just broke up, you’re not depressed.
If you are longing to be with that one girl or boy, you’re not depressed.
If you really want to meet that one celebrity, you’re not depressed.
If you haven’t gotten a text from any of your friends all day and want to talk to someone, you’re not depressed.
If you cried in the shower last night because you want that guy to be your boyfriend,
Or sat on your bed last night with your face in your hands wanting to be with that one girl,
You’re not depressed.
Until you have hated yourself,
Felt no self-worth,
Felt like you’d never amount to anything
And are useless,
You want to lie in bed all day and do nothing but think,
Think you are never good enough for anyone,
Don’t deserve anyone,
Lost any interest in drawing, writing, reading, singing, etc…
You don’t want to be around anyone, just by
dearly belovedthese days
your name has been slipping
in and out of my rib cage
my heart forgets to beat.
how even after all these months i still
don't want to believe that
you're dead. how during the
first couple of weeks i prayed
to a god i didn't believe in and begged to know
if death tasted sweet to you. how once,
when the monsters in my head
didn't let me sleep, i
wrote you three poems and then
you were a supernova that
lit up my life for
a few radiant moments before,
like all good things in this
you came to an end.
the sinner in me hopes that you have wings now.
but i think that,
most of all,
i hope you no longer
remember what pain
Let me dieGo away
Leave me alone
And let me die
Of this world
I don't want to live
Because there's no light
At the end of this tunnel
So I'll just end my life
Don't try to stop me
And we'll meet again
On the other side
Outside this dark tunnel
I am afraid of monsters like you.Bones and sinew cling
to the part of me
that is not human,
the part of me that
Your lips are ready
to pounce mine when
you lace my neck with
the collar of hope.
It hangs too tightly.
Only GirlsOnly Girls can suffer from weight loss,
can cut and cut until their blood is all gone.
Only girls can cry out their angry emotions,
and watch them pool from their eyes like the raging oceans.
Emotions are qualities reserved for women women only,
without them, what men would bask in their glory.
Only women can abort an unwanted fetus,
when a man mourns his lost child, he's nothing but a bigoted sexist.
Only girls can wear their hair long,
put on cake loads of make up, and twirl their hips to a song.
Strip down in public to your bra and underwear,
only girls will get angry when their objectified by eyes everywhere.
Only girls can swallow the pills,
because boys are never depressed, they only grow ill.
Only a woman can claw at her defenseless husband,
and when he tries to defend himself, he's considered little to nothing.
Cry 'sexual-harassment' in the midst of your workplace,
only girls can get away with this, when nothing was done to them in the first place.
Abuse is impossible if it ha
Wrists.Wrists are not made,
To be cut up by cold blades.
Blood was meant to stay in your veins,
Not to be drained.
From your body,
You're stronger than that,
I know a person can only take,
Until they break.
And you have your doubts,
And when you lay in bed,
The pain is all you think about.
But you're so much more,
Than your heart aches.
So much more,
Than your demons.
Even if you feel,
Like your dying,
And you are through with trying,
Because all you've been doing lately is crying.
I want you to know,
That no, you're not alone.
And you re going to survive.
Please just drop your knife,
Because you're going to,
Make it out alive.
MemoriesMemories haunt you,
Make your skin crawl
As they fester inside
And leave your heart to rot
The happy moments that are gone
The sad times just beginning
Every angry thought and mournful whisper,
Every regret you never voiced
Everything you buried
Rushing up to play.
Memories follow you,
Nipping at your heels as you leave them
Banging on the door you close on them
Because you must never forget.
Memories will chase you.
Memories will swarm you.
They will never let you go.
So let's make memories worth remembering.
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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