|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Fear InsideAt night I dream,
Nightmares not able to wake from,
At night I dream,
Of loss and pain,
At night I dream,
That one day soon I will not wake
Inside The Thoughts Of A Shutterbox GirlNot sure if I'm living to die or dying to live,
Illness is around nearly every corner,
Always in pain but will never tell,
Uncertain about what tomorrow will tell,
Running from nightmares long since lived,
Scared to lose what is left,
Wanting to forever be loved by only one,
Death is one of my last fears
Something sacred sealed with a ring,
Petal covered floors,
Vows said to each other with witnesses to observe,
Her hero pinned up in black and white,
Her husband for all the days left in their lives
FalseSettle into the coldness that is life,
With no love, no hate, no spite,
A world within a dreamscape,
One dreamed up inside your head,
Victimised and left behind,
All your horrors revived inside,
Your last wants to never feel,
Not life if left dreaming,
Life only if left living
WakingI was sitting,
Waiting for you,
Ceilings high covered in vines,
Dress torn and covered in ash,
The war outside raging,
Bombs shaking the foundations,
Gunshots ringing through the air,
Dried blood signs of once dead,
Groans and moans of the injured shatter my silence,
Marching past ignoring me,
I was sitting,
Waiting for you,
Torn dress of lace bunched up to my knees,
Boots scuffed and ripped,
You walk to me,
Lift me in your arms,
My ThorGentle touch of your hand on my arm,
Simple brush of your fingers on my neck,
Your lips on mine forever lingering,
You pulling me from the dark,
Making light take shape and form,
Taking me out of my horror,
Shielding me from all harm,
Protecting what you have claimed as yours,
I am forever yours,
You, forever mine
BeginningWalking through these dark halls,
Layers of lace and silk falling,
Rivers of white and red,
Colors of pain and desperation,
No doors or windows,
Nothing to show time,
These nightmares all that is left
Losing site, Finding MightTake a tiny step from the path,
Find your light and your dark,
Make the world your oyster,
Turn it into soft clay,
Work your way from the bottom,
Make your time worth while,
Put effort into your passions,
Make love like there is no tomorrow,
Question all and nothing,
Fall in love all over again with the same person,
Never give into the cruelty of humanity,
You are unique,
Live your life how you want
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
Keep in Touch!