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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.
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.
Jump for OblivionI stare down at the road below,
people like ants in comparrison to me.
So sick and tired of being called a hero,
Where no one can believe my plea.
I wander this world,
feeling so thin and numb.
The twister of life that continues to swirled and whirled,
making me look like a piece of scum.
So I stare down at the distance,
Ready to jump.
Ready to fade from exsistance,
Able to fade like a passing goosebump.
I pull up a mental image of my family,
My mommy and daddy and sweet siblings.
Able to dissapear so eerily
Ready to start a new ending.
I look up at the moon, saying goodbye one last time,
As I gather my courage.
Ready to commit the ultimate, yet most innocent, crime,
And I finally jump into the world, out of my cage,
LessonsMy mama taught me to love others
In hope that others would love me.
But one thing she forgot to teach
Was that love isn't always meant to be.
My father taught me to be strong,
Strong as an iron fist.
But he never taught me strength doesn't last for long,
How to deal with fear when it is taken by the mist.
My teachers taught me to be smart
To try and understand the mysteries of life.
But they never taught me how to deal with fear,
How to turn and run faster than a thrown knife.
My friends taught me to smile
How to laugh and play and be free.
But they never taught me how to fight off the darkness,
How to conquer and kill the Killer of Glee.
My husband taught me to be loyal
because loyalty is all there can be.
But he never taught me how to fight the temptations,
How to avoid the fruit on that forbidden tree.
My lost child taught me the song of sorrow,
the never ending chasm of sadness and pain.
That lost child taught me to pretend to smile,
To force myself to dance in the bitter, acid rai
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,
Just Be YouThey tell you to be brave
They never tell you to be
They never say
They never say
RebellionWe are not afraid of you,
How could we possibly be?
Afraid of all the things you do?
You'll just have to wait and see.
For we will not tire
Until you are dead.
For only blood will quench our boiling fire
When we finally have your head.
A fool you are to underestimate us,
As we pop all of your hot air.
We swear to always make a big fuss,
as long as you question us; if you dare.
We will think of you as we destroy
All through the long, glourious night.
You can trust that we all will enjoy
the giant, hard-won fight.
We hold our heads high with certainty,
As we battle for what is right.
And we celebrate as if we possess immortality,
And we fight and will always fight until the morning light.
Drip. Drip. Drip.DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
I lean back into the white bathtub with a content sigh. The bath is filled halfway, covering the majority of my body. The rush of adrenaline that comes with the sense of control and power, that comes whenever I grab hold of my razor and cut myself, appears, but it is slightly different, stronger than before. Nonetheless of its differences, I like it.
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
The sound of my blood hitting the bath water leaves me strangely satisfied, and it makes a both haunting and thrilling melody to my sick ears. 'Why haven't I cut this deep before?' I think to myself. The water in the tub is quickly turning red.
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
My sense of hearing goes first, turning anything and everything to sound distant and faint. My body is growing weaker, and I feel like I'm a balloon, slowly deflating. That's probably because of the two deep cuts that wrap around my wrists like a rubber band, oozing out my blood, draining away my sense of the living. Pooring out of my body, leavi
I unintentionally use it almost every day.
In a sudden hiccup, I slip up and it slips out.
Even when I can’t think of anything else to say.
You can bet beyond a shadow of a doubt.
That exact word will seep and creep out.
It makes its way into any given conversation.
It’s probably the most used default abbreviation.
It requires no effort and rolls out with no hesitation.
It’s so universal it can be suited to every situation.
In an upsurge it will emerge with no indication.
How can one word have so many definitions.
And still have the same effect despite its repetition.
How can this same word blur all the lines of divisions.
Between polite pleasantries to abusive abrasions of affliction.
How can the tone and meaning change after every rendition.
This word sounds exactly like what it means.
You scream it, shout it and even mutter it under your breath.
No matter how big or little the occasion may seem.
Just unleashing it will take a load off your chest.
You say it w
Red ScreamsSmiling at me, shiny silver teeth
Begging my wrist
For one chaste
Grinning at me, that evil smirk
Making my heart pound
So sharp so
I know I
And really I
Arm’s too full of blood
From attempts to
Join the stars.
Photo album of
My diary of my
I am still
Forever Breathing WallsAn old, abandoned house
cries out in the middle
It is breathing terribly
through broken brick lungs,
it's heart is beating
with each step we take -
'Come a little closer...
Let me shelter your soul.'
This house it carried
many hearts, so wipe your
feet on the worn out
'welcome home' mat,
come inside, come inside,
the cherry blossom, it's only
old friend, bows to you.
Blowing off the dust,
can you hear the
once upon a time - old man
cough and wheeze
in a rocking chair in the corner?
today, he's finally faded away.
Pull open the ripped curtains,
Sunlight wants to stream through,
If you watch with eyes wide open
maybe you could see the glint
of gold in brown eyes belonging to
ghost children, who once ran
Through winding corridors
and hallways, leaving behind
of laughter and
echo of cries.
An ear against bricks,
hear the walls breathe...
Listen to all the muttering,
of conversations, and
caught in the mortar.
Chained and ShamedNobody gets it.
I don’t want saving,
I don’t want ”friends”;
I just want all ends
To be met in red.
I hate how plain my skin is,
How it should be painted;
I’m the addiction’s harlot,
I do as it must dictate
And when it tells me to seal my bloody fate;
I bloody well will.
I’m too full of blood,
I need to let some out.
But know this isn’t a shout
This is me coping
With how I’m hoping
Nobody’ll care when I go.
Cutting isn’t for attention;
It’s for a brief suspension
Of everything else.
It is mine and I’m its,
It doing as I want
And I its slave
Until there’s nothing left to save.
I don’t fear death
Half as much as I do breath.
Because I’d be lying
If I said dying
Wasn’t on my list of things to do today.
An Oath to My Father
An Oath to My Father:
The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.
A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.
I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors
Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.
Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!
Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -
Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood
Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hungry, he is eager;
Slacks of drool hang from his twin mouths, as a jarring roar shakes the mountain!
Though I shiver at the sight, it is not from fear - I shiver in anticipation
Of the battle that is to come. My steel may rend his flesh and break his bones;
Or perhaps I shall be sent to glory - but it is useless to think about such things,
This is Me, BeggingIf I could play guitar
I’d write you a song.
If I could run that far
Then I’d run all night long.
But I’m no good at that
So you’ll have to settle for this.
What is this?
It's a plea
Please come home
I'm all alone
And nobody understands.
I don't want you to R.I.P.
I want you here with me
But I'm not God
And He hates me
So, for now,
I guess it's R.I.P.
Paint is slandered all over the walls
Music and laughter can be heard through the halls
Merry men are dancing on the stage
Be it young, old or whatever the age
Songs are echoing through the building
Full of emotion, full of feeling
As it collides with the drawings on the ceiling
Creating something new and appealing
As from the back rooms flow the words
Debates, poetry, stories about flying as a bird
Rhyme and rhythm
If you use them that is your freedom
That building is growing too small
As many want to join and walk through this hall
So perhaps it is time to expand
And spread art all over the land
I Am Not ThemI've got the scars on my skin,
Reminding what I've done,
Who I've been;
Never letting me forget
Everything that I regret
And making sure I know
That I am not Them.
When the moon is way up high,
And the world is in a dream,
I will cry
For all of the death
Within my breath
Whispering into my ear
That I am not Them.
They make me Their shallow joke,
The things They say and do,
Making me choke;
World wants me dead
I'm sick in the head
All because of the fact
That I am not Them.
If I could transform myself,
Make me rich in beauty,
'Cos that's their wealth
I'd rather just die
I want to remain I
Proud of all I am and
That I am not Them.
I think I pity all of the liars,
The way They act like
Sirs and sires.
They aren't truly alive
Just a drone in a hive
Making me thankful
That I am not Them.
The Opposite of a ParadoxMisery makes me happy
Because it means I'm real
And pain makes me content
Because it makes me feel.
Sleep makes me tired
Because life's too short
And fun makes me bored
Because I know it's been bought.
Breaking makes me fixed
Because it makes me alive
And breathing makes me drown
Because life will deprive.
Lying makes me honest
Because it makes me me
And dying will make me live
Because then I will be free.
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
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More