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Dead, Inside and OutI scream, but nobody hears
I cry, but nobody cares
I look, but I do not find
I try, but I do not die
I wake, but I never really sleep
I eat, but I never really taste
I long, but I never really know
I try to stay, but it is time to go
I slumber, but I do not wake
I crack, but I do not break
I gasp, but I do not breath
I swallow, but I do not sneeze
I am floating, through the pale air
I am moving, though I do not care
I am strangled with tears, yet I do not pout
I am dead, inside and out.
Love is a DiesiesI am a mad-man, nothing more,
Who is too foolish to turn away.
Who dares to knock on the forbidden door,
Who doesn't understand why he decays.
A mad-man who does not understand
The grief the diesies brings.
Who grabs his untrusting loved ones hand,
Who answers when the Grimm Reaper rings.
No medications can cure the illness
Of those infected by the diesies.
For love brings no relief besides numbness
As it fullfils its deadly deeds.
Drowning, suffocating, undeniable death
Is what comes to those who are ill.
Who curse their foolish desires to love
Who try to reclimb but fall to Life's Hill.
I pity thee who falls so easily
Under death's taunting spell.
So maybe I am a fool to love thee so openly,
But I do so anyways, even if it means my
I Am A...I am a survivor
Because I wish to survive.
I am a dreamer
Because dreams are my break from reality.
I am a lover
Because I yearn to love.
I am a seeker
Because I will seek for my joy.
I am an observer
Because I can observe my enemies,
and know the score.
I am a killer
Because I kill to save others.
I am a hunter
Because I will hunt for truth and lies.
I am a decider
Because I can decide if I can trust you.
I am a teacher
Because I teach the future.
I am a student
Because I still learn.
I am a fighter
Because I do not believe in surrender.
I am a hater
Because the world dispises my spirit
and wants to bring me down.
I am a rebel
Because when the world spits in my face,
I will spit back.
I am a leader
Because I refuse to break down.
I am a wise one
Because wise one's understand lies.
I am a child
Because I can still laugh at other's stupidity.
I am an adult
Because I can put up with you.
I am innocent
Because my heart throbs with ignorance.
I am robbed
Because I still feel the pain.
Sinned by the name of Love.I believe that LOVE
is in the realms before CONFLICT.
But, then again, SOME
of the worst sins human beings COMMIT
are done in the name of
So does that make love
Always a monsterOnce a monster, always a monster.
Thats what I thought when I learnt that my sister had been murdered. When I walked into the room to find her bloody, broken body, and watched as it was transformed to that pale dead corpse being lowered into the ground, I knew a human had done this. That it wasnt an accident. Only a human was capable of such cruelty and hatred. It used to keep me up at nights, wondering what I would do without her in my life, wondering what was worse; living with the knowledge of how she had died or living at all.
Living was impossible. I couldn't flip through the TV without seeing her favourite shows, or eat my dinner without imagining my sister arguing her way out of eating brocilli. The mourning was long, never-ending, a pathway of sadness. Along that road, the grief would sometimes hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, making sobs rack my body. How could somebody do that to her? How could anyone do that to a little girl so filled with light and love, filled with
Ocean of the DeadSurfing over the waves of the ocean
Floating in the dead, cold sea
Alive in my tide of emotions
Searching for a way to be.
My heart goes out with longing
As the waves lapse over my soul
Begging for a sense of belonging
But knowing that I will never be whole.
I am like a Zombie
Wandering, meaningless without ho[e
My story is nothing but an endless lie
My lifeline going down a bottomless slope.
I am dead, understand,
Floating in the depths of the cold
Drowning under the weight of society's demands
And now there is nothing to do except watch me
Cry, and die,
and let my story go unforgotten,
BurningNothing makes sense anymore.
The world is mashing together
in a swirl of endless colours,
colours so bright they could
knock a person out.
seems to be as it once was,
draped in a curtain of black
and grey. The cover has been
pulled back, revealing the
to me now, more than ever before.
Why did I sit arounf snf waste
time, moping around like I once
you have a wonderful After to be
exploring! This life is so diffe
This is the timeThis is the day it all comes to an end,
This is a day that I always dread.
This is the day when all time seems to stop
This is the day when I finally drop.
This is the time when I come to mourn,
This is the time when I seem so torn.
To succeed or to fail, its all up to me.
To decide if this is the right time to flee.
This is the day my family cries,
This is the day my own soul betrays and lies.
This is the day my dreams will come true.
This is the day when I will leave you.
This is the space that I shall escape,
This is the place where I meet my fate.
This is the home where I was meant to be,
Right here, floating all over that great big sea.
So heed my warning, as I jump to my freedom
And fly up to meet that glorious kingdom.
For this is the time and the place where it all will come true
Because one day again I will meet you.
To ____To finally die
To call it quits.
To finally end
My restless fits.
My fits of rage.
My fits of despair.
My fits to which
No damage of can be repaired.
To have my last laugh with life
And my final fight with fate
Before I hit the dirt
And think of non more late.
To finally die...
Call it quits...
To put a rest
To my bleeding wrists.
Everyone is too wrapped in their own lives to even care about yours.
But what they fail to remember is that this earth is only the first of many floors.
Tears cascade, smiles appear and fade while the universe continues to ignore,
As they impatiently knock and wait outside life's man made divisible door.
So when they become to self involved in the successes of their own cause.
Sad Poems.As I sit down at my desk, I wonder what to write.
Should I write about hardships, or suffering and plight.
Does this poem have to be sad though, I ask myself all the time.
It hurts me just to think about it, I can't, I won't, not this time.
I think well maybe, just this once, I can go back to my better place.
So I think about the sad times, and almost bring a tear to my face.
I write and sit, and I sit and write, till it chokes me up inside.
I've almost finshed it now, I can read it once, then hopefully put it aside.
Dare I ever do another one, I probably won't this time.
I'd rather write about my happy times, my loves, my goals in life.
So was this writing worth it, in its truth all said and done.
At least the sadness is out the way now, I can go back to having fun.
A New and Bright FriendshipIt's always been hard to explain my feelings
But right now I'm speechless
I've never thought I could care so much
Yet here I am
Offering my help and support
No matter what.
Some of my darkest corners
Smile when I talk to you
My worries begin to fade
And my stomach feels warm
A new and bright friendship
I'm just glad I met you.
Unconscious Epiphany.Unconscious Epiphany.
I thrive and depend on your compliments
And it is only then as a direct consequence,
Am I truly able to write with confidence.
Even though your words are only temporary.
I deem your contribution as utterly necessary,
In order to refresh my wavering, selective memory.
My own validation depends on your approval.
Whether it is congratulatory or discouragingly brutal.
Your input is the one thing that is most crucial.
Can I call myself a writer if I don't believe in myself?
When I constantly seek approval from everyone else?
How can I then expect to make any sort of wealth?
Of a craft and skill I still think anyone is able to produce.
Is there any point in me putting my apparent talent to use?
When I limit and submit myself into a negative recluse.
I was told I must have self belief in order to achieve,
The dream that I am so desperately trying to receive.
The body can only accomplish what the mind believes.
I know I must rid myself from any form of self doubt.
My Master's VoiceI screamed at him "I'm leaving!"
He smiled and said "okay"
I said "no, for once I mean it
This time you wont make me stay"
But bags were never really packed
And that night in our bed I lay
The taste of blood on my lips
Still remained there the next day
I screamed at him "please stop this!
I am the Mother to your child
Baby, I know you have a temper
I know my ways make you so wild"
"But I promise I'll try harder
Not to push your buttons so much"
With that the beast resumed control
As I quiver at each stolen touch
They scream at me to leave him
To them it's such a simple choice
But it's been so long since I've heard
Anything but my master's voice
To the point that I no longer know
My own mind or my own heart
But today he said he's sorry again
And tomorrow will be a fresh start
When I Was a ChildWhen I was a child
I tried to kill myself seven times,
But it turns out something
Soulless and empty
Refuses to let itself die.
When I was a child,
I was scared of my own eyes—
Oh, they terrified me,
Because their light reminded me
That I am alive.
When I was a child,
They taught me to think
That I was not like all the rest.
That I was an empty thing,
An ugly creature,
A soulless changeling
That had intruded upon their lives.
And the people that were meant to love me
Only taught me how to cry,
Taught me how to hate
That I am alive.
I am still a child,
Though I like to think I’m not,
And I still have trouble
Looking myself in the eye.
I have learned that this is a bitter place
Painted colours by my madness,
Where errant and airy thoughts drift by
Whose wings I have lit on fire.
I am still a child,
But I am a hollow, broken thing
With frightened, suffering eyes.
Still, my mind is pleading
That my heart will soon stop beating,
But somehow I survive.
I still he
Almost...Almost to the end
Before I ever saw the start,
Close to the heavens and yet I...
Didn't see any stars.
Each and every moment passed
Faster than falling sand,
Going under, grabbing onto...
His now distant, earthly hand.
I wish I would have realized
Just a while before death came
Knowing would have changed so much...
Leaving only me to blame.
DisappearingI cannot feel.
I have been shut down.
I am like the walking dead,
And I cannot turn around.
I am waiting for the day
When I will finally disappear.
But as of now I stand and watch,
As everyone else's ends draw near.
Emotionless I forever stand,
Never understanding anyone.
Happiness and sadnees mean the same,
As if ice were the same as the sun.
People around me cry for me,
But I cannot cry for myself.
The emotion I show is forcefully projected,
Because inside do not seek help.
People everywhere laugh around me,
But I do not know how to join in.
What do we know that makes us truly happy?
What joy do we search for within?
I am emotionally shut down,
I simply examine the world from afar.
Who is to say that I will ever beome affected?
How does anyone know who they really are?
I decided to remain cold after watching the world,
I know that I am better off this way.
It will be easier to survive, and then disappear...
Will I awaken before then?
Will I eve
Eyes That Watch MeEyes that watch me,
eyes that don't.
Eyes that follow me,
eyes that won't.
Eyes in my family and
eyes in my friends.
Eyes in nature that
never seem to end.
Eyes that watch every move I make,
every breath I take,
every word I utter and mutter and stutter.
Eyes that judge me, love me and hate me;
Eyes that fear me, loathe me, pity me;
Eyes that want to be me and curse me for existing.
But the eyes that watch me the most,
always the most critical,
are the eyes that
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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