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Do you judge me?Do you know me?
Do you actually look beyond my face?
Do you try to know the person,
Behind which clothes I wear?
Beyond the badges on my jacket?
Beyond the shell I live in?
Or do you just condemn me?
By the first glance.
Slot me into a category?
Into a judgmental group?
Which one will it be this time?
All are things that I've been called before.
Do you care about who I am?
About what kind of person I may be?
You take one glance and that's all you need.
To slot me into a group.
To abandon any other impressions I may make on you to the judgements of one word.
GriefToo long have I looked without seeing,
When I stare all I see are the colours,
Too long have I heard without listening,
When they speak all I hear is your voice.
Too long have I walked without treading,
When I step all I feel is the cold,
Too long have I breathed without living,
All I feel inside is loss.
Too long have I cried without thinking,
Because you occupy my mind,
Too long have I talked without speaking,
Words that clutter my head.
I've missed you too much for too long and now all I can do is let go.
ProxyUnable to move,
Suspended in thick black darkness,
Stretched and compacted,
Chocking on writhing tentacles,
That slither around the neck and encase the torso.
Pierced by a deathly glare,
Subject of the never-ending gaze,
Eternally trapped by a stare,
Shrouded in vigilance..
Of deathly pallor,
Stretched to inhuman size,
No eyes; no soul,
How does it see with no eyes?
Searing and hot that stabs into the optic nerve,
Waves of pain that wrack the body like shivers,
Screaming constant protest,
Flesh on fire; stuck with needles, bubbling, burning and peeling away.
More like a second face that porcelain or cloth,
Stitched into the skin,
Fused and blended,
A single shackle.
No longer human,
Mad, psychotic, dangerous,
Darkened Skies- the prophecyA boy born from fire and ice,
Who abnormalities may be counted thrice,
Who's head bares locks of darkened hair,
A child born of maiden fair,
When told of ancient demons rise,
Of terrible flame and burning eyes
When evil will these creatures call,
When babe and blessed water fall,
A foretold child of fifteen years,
Who's voice falls upon deaf ears,
Will bare a branded sacred mark,
Burnt above still beating heart,
And call the power of heaven's gate,
To take a pre-decided fate.
My bookshelfLines and lines of creativity,
Thick, thin, new and old.
Tolkien, Rowling, Lewis,
The mysteries that Christie told.
Leather bound original copies,
Books like ancient tomes,
A couple of newly published,
Thousands of characters' homes.
A gateway to a thousand places,
All of them I know like home,
Some like the world I live in,
Others where fantasy roams.
Elves and dwarves and spirits,
Dragons, fairies, wolves,
Hobbits, Ringwraiths, Ghosts,
It's a window to them all.
Frodo, Aragorn, Legolas,
Eragon, Holmes and Hood,
Samwise, Caspian, Aslan,
That would speak to you if they could.
Colfer, d'Lacey, Ransom,
Pullman, Riordan, Wells,
Orwell, Tolkien, Carroll
Whose characters live on these shelves.
My bookshelf's never been dusty,
It's constantly moved around,
My re-reading of old favourites,
And adding new wonders I've found.
A bookshelf is a portal,
To a million different realms,
A communication to creatures,
Made of oak or ash or elm.
An infinite library of landscapes,
Encounters, objects and
Your Insanity or Mine?, Chapter 1For a psychiatric ward, Horton Edge was fairly average. But seeing as she had a database of one real psychiatric ward and several she’d read about and in that awful horror film she couldn't remember the name of, Zoë didn't have much to compare it to. It had been built in the late 1960's and stood squat, square and unappealing to look at with overly sharp edges and taught walls. The inside wasn't that much better; everything was white and sterile and smelt strongly of disinfectant.
In fact, Zoë had been a little disappointed at the lack of bloody streaks on the wall and the occasional death message written on the ceiling but hey, you can’t have everything can you? Maybe they’d cleaned them off just before she arrived.
Zoë had been at Horton Edge for a little over a month and she was beginning to go crazy…well, crazier than she had been for the past 17 years. Most of the staff was horribly patronising, the food was wasn't the greatest and one of th
I can't read youI can't read you
I can't see anything beyond your outer shell
I can't understand you through your talking
You're masking your words
I can see nothing beyond your expression
You're keeping your face stoic
I can't find a meaning in your words
You have a hidden meaning
I can't read you
DemonsPlease just kill me. I don’t care,
I fluctuate under your stare.
Your eyes, they search my very soul,
And break apart what makes me whole.
I was doing great- thought I was fine,
But then you showed me, not this time.
I’m not ready, I can’t yet.
You’ve already planned my fall, I bet.
I always bleed and always cry,
I always, always want to die.
I do not know what makes me stop,
But eventually, I will just drop.
I’m very close, I know that now,
I’ll do it! But I don’t know how.
It’s coming soon, not long to wait,
Before I finally meet my fate.
A length of rope is my best friend,
Or will a box of pills mean my end?
But there’s one thing I know for sure,
I just can’t do this anymore.
You can call anything anythingA whisper in the wind,
A murmur in a dark corner,
A thought in an alleyway,
And you call me a dealer of rumours?
A twist in the truth,
A warp of reality,
A change of the words,
And you call me liar?
A slip of the tongue,
A hidden truth,
An uncomfortable fact,
And you call me a teller of secrets?
A switch of sides,
A swap of loyalties,
A decided change of heart,
And you say I committed a betrayal?
A dealer of information,
A swapper of secrets,
An expensive tongue,
And you call me a traitor?
You can call anything anything and you call me a cheat?
Is like falling into a deep abyss;
Though you are not afraid of the fall, nor the impact.
Come to think of it, there isn't an impact, really;
Just soft, gentle arms waiting
That sweep you away into a beautiful land of
I walked lonely and lonely on a silent street
Saw empty benches where dear ones meet
Underneath were impressions of invisible feet
Tenderly touched by the cool breeze
Heartily greeted by nodding trees
Oh! I was like a guest to a land of love and peace
The daffodils in yellow
Looked up and said hello!
I was standing in a meadow
Basking in The heavenly glow
Eternal bliss as far as the mind could go
Like an enchanted audience in a cardist's show.
The leaves so mesmerizing like the spades of cards
My joy now equivalent to the thirteen hearts
Clear water falling like diamonds
I felt like the queen of my club ready to commence
I was in my world, my world of pleasure
Wanting to keep this safe, safe as a treasure
My mind was fresh and pleased
Wanting this tranquility never to cease
But, the silence didn't last for long
As it was broken by another dawn
This happiness and serenity in my world of fantasy
A paradox it is, in the world of reality.
My heart skips a beat, like a skipping stone,
It's a rush.
It's like moonlight. To fade away,
it takes a word that's longer than a while
sweet as the sound of a chime
like the words of a poem that rhyme.
like soft rose petals. I'm taking dips
in the ocean of your talk.
when you walk that walk.
freezes time, oh, I can write a book.
the only one I see now.
The Villain...Do not cross this monster, you impish child;
I am not soft, I am not mild.
I am the darkest creature, the Angel of Death.
I am the blackest of shadows.
The sickest mind, and the most twisted of souls.
I am he that spills innocent blood in the snow,
I am hate, I am greed and control.
A soul so black it quenches light,
My clothes stained red, no longer white.
I devour flesh with only words.
No need for guns, no need for swords.
My skin is hideous
my eyes constantly wander
but still they're focused
your happiness, I will squander.
I am the evilest creature, the bringer of death.
I am the darkness personified.
The ugliest mind, the most twisted truth.
I am he that has dead bodies quantified.
I devour flesh with only words.
Your plea for justice? Completely absurd.
My soul's so black, it will destroy the Light,
My clothes stained red, no longer white.
Enough is EnoughEnough is Enough
For years I dreamed of nothing but you.
These dreams are what got me through
things that you didn't even know were happening to me.
Things that will never let me be free.
All those years I stood by you, no questions asked.
Shouldn't that loyalty be repaid at long last?
Things are not the same as they once were.
My life is passing me by in a blur.
I'm not living my life because I'm trying to play your game.
I hoped that with time things would change but it's all the same.
I'm through with living my life by someone elses rules.
My emotions will not be the toys you use as tools
to play me time and time and time again.
You will not make a show of my pain,
built on the building strife between me and you.
The person I've become is something unheard of and new
and someone I wish i had never met let alone become.
I wish more then anything I was like you, completly numb
but I have a loving heart and I refuse to give up living for some guy.
I'm not weak and I won't hold back whe
A word can say it all
but there are some subtle moments in life
that doesn't require it at all
Packed with love, you gift your daughter
your heart wants it to say, that you love her
She might take it with a sigh
or with a glitter in the eye
either way, you got the reply.
When the string of friendship gets a knot
it's hard to say what happens to the heart
you want to talk to her, you try to look at her
when she looks away, you get the answer
you are hurt, sad that you did something bad
A tight warm hug from your mother
tells what you have not what you had.
You and your brother get into a fight
you yell, shout, throw tantrums, run out of sight
you sit, weeping at a corner all through the night
when he comes and sits right next to you,
you know everything's alright.
You want to talk to him, you want to tell him
how you feel and how you have felt
he looks at you, gives a cute smile
that itself makes your heat melt
You wanna prove yourself, want to show who you a
Suicide is Pretty Interesting, I GuessThe flesh on the sole of her naked foot tore when she stepped over the plastic part of some human necessity left as a fatal present for an unlucky bird's digestive track. However, her moon eyes did not blink and she didn't pause to inspect the injury. It was if that moment had never happened.
And had it? She didn't seem to notice, and on the roof of a long abandoned building, neither did anyone else. The coroner mightand that, perhaps, is evidence that such an event transpiredbut even he, when he went to the bar that night, would replace the thought of that insignificant mark with thoughts of those pretty naked girls on the pole.
So, if that little cut that barely offered a drop of blood didn't matter, than did her life? What had she done to be noticed? She existed, or so said her yearbook and her parents. But when her parents went to their eternal hospital stay, who would remember her face? Not the history books. Not her children, for she had none. Not friendsanyone
FifteenThe blushing crows
Land on my clothes.
They tease my ears
With regrets and fears.
So I suppose
This is how my life goes.
Purples, blues, greens, yellows
It's something that I never chose.
My eyes squeeze shut.
I mend and stitch
The holes and splits
The ones I etched
And the ones you stretched.
Six hundred pounds of flesh
Resting upon my chest.
It's harder to catch my breath.
I hope this is not my death.
The worms withdraw
While the vultures claw
And begin to gnaw
At my limbs of straw
My skin bursts open
To release words unspoken.
Down the street
A young teen
Wants to sleep.
Eyes squeezed shut.
I'll Never Forget...I'll never forget that Christmas when we woke to find nothing more than two pieces of coal on the floor of the living room, and how we sat crying for hours because we still believed in Santa.
What made it worse is that later that year, you told us Santa wasn't real, and that you were the ones who thought we didn't deserve presents.
Even though that year, you'd got a job and dad had got a pay-rise.
I'll never forget that last weekend of the summer holidays, before going into year 3 at my new school, when you decided to weigh us both after we got out the bath, how you called me fat.
And how that made me start skipping my meals, how the school used to phone you up, worried I was getting too small, and how I was being forced by them to eat my lunches.
Even though when you called me fat, I was only seven, and you called me fat because I weighed half a stone more than my brother, even though he was a year and a half younger than me.
I'll never forget that day when I first screamed at you 'I
I don't care...I don't care if you overlook me,
I never wanted your friendship,
I don't care if you don't speak to me,
I didn't have anything to say to you,
I don't care if you ignore me,
I don't need your attention.
I don't care if you talk about me,
I'm not listening,
I don't care if you insult me,
Do I need your opinion?
I don't care if you hit me,
It only hurts for a while.
I don't care if you tell me to go to hell,
I'll only see you down there.
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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