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I remember.I remember the last time I saw you.
You lay alone on the vast hotel bed with a tube snaked around your head pumping oxygen through your nose. The machine made a sound like the ocean: smooth and even. You looked like pile of bones with skin attached and a tumor in the middle. I stood between your sister, sleeping peacefully on the couch, and you in the grand bed which I had lain in beside you just five minutes before. I stared, so wanting to walk over and shake you awake to say goodbye. It's the last time I'll ever see you. But you were so weak, and you could barely sit upright the night before. I wanted to let you enjoy your dreams while you could. I wondered if you would wake later that day and think, She left without a word.
Because that's what I was thinking.
I felt my face twist into pain. Eyebrows curled upward, lips pouting. An expression soon to become familiar on my face. I wondered if your sister was awake. I didn't want to sound ridiculous, talking to a sleeping girl,
Words Never SpokenWe all stood up to say goodbye to Anna Lee. As we did, I finally saw my chance to break away and see you. I looked toward the front of the room. You lay there, your face above the lip of the white casket. Pale and thin, but just as I had last seen you. My throat was tight. I didn't want to talk anymore with your other friends who I had just met a few weeks ago. You were the one I came to see. So as they were all turned, I walked up behind the old couple in front of you. They moved away after a moment and I got a clear view of you.
You looked like you were only sleeping. Last year, you were so plump and full of life, but laying here, your face was thin, cheekbones sticking out, eyes sunken, and your hands... Your hands were at just the wrong angle. There were bruises on your fingers. Did you notice? Where did you get those? I wanted to touch you. I wanted to talk to you. You looked as if you were about to sit up and say, "Boo!" because that's exactly what you would do. I couldn't believ
A new friend? Amateur..."Alright then, I'm sticking to you like glue!" The idiot said.
Are you wondering what just happened? Let me explain.
I was lounging on a dark night in the local park, where there were few people. It was about 2:47 or so, and I was enjoying the breeze. But then I heard footsteps. I thought about going limp and pretending I was asleep, but, for some reason, I lifted up my head. I was actually hoping to see a beautiful young lady who might be running from a sex offender, and maybe I'd save her and have a snack.
What I saw was not running from a sex offender, it was not a lady, and it was definitely not beautiful. My neck settled into a normal position, and I found myself nose-to-nose with a stupid-looking blond haired boy. His hair was obviously bleached -- and badly done at that. His eyes were wide and quizzical, shining with wonder. The worst part was the moment he opened his mouth.
"Are you a vampire?" He asked hesitantly. There was a long silence between us. Why not just say it?
Peacemaker My name is Peacemaker. I have no gender, and I have no race. I do not take a democrat or republican side of politics, and I look at things from every angle I can. My history is lost, and my future is unpredicted.
Many people come to me every day and ask for help. They all have problems they need assistance to take on. I give them the advice they seek, and they are on their way. Many of these people called me wise. A few have told me I was "perfect" or "flawless".
That is not true.
If I have one flaw, it is that I cannot take my own advice. If a friend and I argue, the terrible, hard reality comes crashing into me like a raving river.
The question is: what happens when I, the Peacemaker, can no longer make peace?
InamimateI find more love in inanimate objects than in living people.
It's a strange feeling.
It's almost sad.
The pajama top that I took off wrapped it's arms around me, as if it were hugging me and keeping me warm.
The teddy bear I hug is leaning against my chest, as if it were saying to me, "I need you."
The radio at my side is softly playing me my favorite songs, as if it were singing a lullaby to me.
Sometimes it's not enough.
Because after a while, the pajama top is just a shirt.
Because after a while, the teddy bear is just a doll.
Because after a while, the radio is just a device to be controlled.
Because after a while, you need a real voice.
And somewhere in the world, someone will make it all better without doing a thing.
Even though, I find more love in inanimate objects than in real people.
Because I am not that familiar with the latter.
I'll be...I'll be green, I'll be blue,
I'll be anything just to get to talk to you.
I'll be high, I'll be low,
I just wanna know
How you feel, and everything else.
I'll be goth, I'll be prep
If I just take a step
to being closer to you.
All I want...
Most people can...Most people can sing the ABCs.
Few can sing an Opera.
Most people can dance the Hokey Pokey.
Few can dance the Nutcracker Ballet.
Most people can read off a few lines.
Few people can make you believe their actually Romeo or Juliet.
Most people can aim a camera.
Few can capture the emotion and feeling.
Most people can draw a stick figure.
Few people can actually draw a person.
Most people can draw a triangle.
Few people can really paint a mountain.
Most people can do this.
You can do more.
Rainbow SongListen to him singing the song to me.
Listen to him singing --
Listen to beauty and love as he sings,
Yes, listen to him...
Look at me listening to his love song.
Look at me breaking his frail heart.
Love is a sensitive thing from the start.
Yes, look at me.
This is so nice.
So majestic and I'm
His heart shatters
In my hands.
Soak my life again.
Listen to him singing the song to me.
Listen to him singing --
Listen to beauty and love as he sings,
Yes, listen to him...
?.:-LOVE-:.?Love is like a jacket.
When it catches your eye, you try it on, and look for the right size.
You take it home and wear it and show it off.
It covers you and keeps you warm.
For a while it really interests you, and you pay a lot of attention to it.
But after a while, it doesn't interest you as much, but it's a part of your daily life.
Soon, it wears out, and doesn't always keep you warm in strong winds.
It thins and grows holes.
Sometimes, the holes are convenient.
Sometimes, you patch it up.
Sometimes, it just gapes.
Eventually, you sell it, or throw it away.
Sooner or later, you get a new jacket.
You forget about that old jacket.
And that's the end of the jacket.
And that's the end of love.
The Boy Who Wouldnt EatIf you can flutter
I have failed you,
for you were not forged
to be so insubstantial as that
You were writ
to be an epic fable
of endings ignored,
of outlasting your body
through the sheer will
of a writers starving heart
through a broken, bowed
but bravely abiding body
that fights the soul
to comprehend Beauty.
................written in a frenzy and run-on
and exclamation points
used in rapid succession
words all blurred
so bare bones it's bloody
strung out and on display
in a frightening combination
of paragraphs and stanzas
punctuation gone mad
ellipses my new black
used and abused
then spit out
in gratuitous repetition
there is no word count here
no hearts dotting the i's
just a string of letters
done up in cursive
but not very pretty at all
Five AMPre-dawn darkness again, seething, quiet
A monster hugging the city
How heavy, how suffocating it is
The clock has run down on time for dreaming
A void between night and morning
Ready to swallow everything up
A time for old men's reflections
On love, and loss, and sorrow
Oppressive black sky, you eat everything
But the all-night diner
Where lonely old men sit
Drinking coffee at five AM
QuicksandYou trapped me
Dragged me below the surface
And held me there
You chained me
Put brass around my ankles
And left me struggling
You broke me
Beat me with whips made of hate
And hurt me more
You changed me
Made me who you wanted
And killed me inside
You hid me
Stole me away from the light
And made me blind
You crushed me
Blew my dust in the wind
And danced on my grave
surrounding my body
And now I'm twenty feet under
With no chance of being saved
From Your 'Secret' AdmirerHeaven,
this is not a love letter
I will swear to God,
with a halo on my head
and a hole in my heart.
But the fact is I revere you
more than I have any right to.
After all, we are nothing except
who have awkward conversations.
So why is it that every time the line
falls silent I panic, worrying that your shadow
will make my efforts nothing but a distant memory,
when every word you speak strongly marks my mind?
Simple: I fear having something to lose
and losing the nothing I have. You are
treasure to me, and this note becomes my confession.
Sincerely- I typed this, but I'm sure you'll recognize the handwriting.
Death, Judgment, RebirthLast Time in the ICU
Shadow rats, beady red eyes focused hungrily
Stay still too long and they’ll swarm
Sharp little teeth rending flesh
They know the sick and weak
They can wait
Tenth floor ICU, down with the disease again
He’s resting quietly, the nurse says
She looks like a huge black rat
Does she know what’s happening?
Closing the door
She walks away
Sweet childhood dreams are interrupted
Rats gnawing away at the edges
Toothy little kisses all over
Cleaning, cleansing scurry
Down to the bone
Sentenced to Live
Firelight, poker-faced patchwork man reading aloud
An old but vaguely familiar tome, his tone is somber
Was I one of the wicked? Weren’t we all?
Who can say that they were good?
Sentenced to live yet another life
I cry; I’ve had enough living
I want to sleep forever, leave my shell behind
To crumble to dust, useless, I won’t need it
Every door opens to the same world
Is this hell, then? The onl
give me a challenge, give me you.i have grown
the blood in my veins
have become more
than plasma, and i
am now trapped
within my own hollowed-out
this haze of
has to be transitory--
i can't let it be anything
Sound PoemIthrumden, ithrumden delsum
nith mul thruss elmrissull.
Eth rut mundelliss
Curmiette dessel renrin
irme trell ithrumden.
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More