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Innocence (73)Tired of mumbling when they mention your name-
Desperate, longing, to simply be sane.
Want to be free, to dance with the wind
No longer thinking what we had was sin.
Used to be open, carefree and young
Long before we knew how love truly stung.
Now so broken with patches and scars,
Thinking this plan has never been ours.
Sure there's a reason for every small tear,
But gratitude is something you will not find here.
Give it some time, let memories build up
Don't think about all the days now corrupt.
Oh to be innocent like I once was,
To answer my questions with words like "Because"
Without having to worry about things in the past...
Not really wondering how long we would last.
My Heart's QuestionIt rises up above me,
Laying here at night.
A question I can't answer,
That has no wrong or right.
Shining in the starlight,
Burning in the sun
I wonder if there's life,
In this thing that we've begun.
My daisy holds no answer-
It simply hangs its head.
The question is in my heart
That cries in silent dread.
Your eyes pour into mine
I wonder if you know.
Is this just an age old shrine;
Will you love me or let me go?
My Dream Not SoI have a dream...
About a hundred or two.
And they seem to revolve
Around one person- You.
I want to get married,
To have a few kids.
Then smile at the camera
Kick back, and live.
In all honesty though,
I have to admit-
I want to have freedom
The chance to just quit.
To see the whole world,
Ten countries or more.
And fly through the mountains
With dangers galore.
If I can't have that
I'd certainly settle
Near someone who listens,
But never would meddle.
And if I couldn't-
Have something so small,
I'd rather have you
Than nothing at all.
For in this thoughtful
Yet sad strand of rhyme,
I just have to realize
One dream at a time.
So I'll go watch,
See you living my dreams.
'Cuz nothing is right in this
Reality it seems.
Pain's Obsession (7)I wonder, do they see?
This sadness inside of me
Does it scream out from my eyes;
Should they even be surprised?
When every time they say his name,
I feel this quiet aching pain
How could they notice the way I turn,
Shying away from the age old burn.
Trying to smile, to be happy- Whatnot,
Yet tiredly fighting the urge to be caught.
If I would scream and howl and shout,
Would they even turn about?
The memories that haunt me day and night
Are something I've given up trying to fight-
Indeed, I wish to remember his face...
And yet it's gone, it cannot be placed.
When everyone 'round me has forgotten the past,
Each time it is mentioned I try not to gasp.
I want to be free from memories' old snare
To look at the pain and find it not there.
For surely in hurting I am making a choice,
To stifle my cries, to silence my voice
In a strange tangled way this type of depression
Is making this pain a certain obsession.
His Music Box (60)The music box keeps playing
His haunting melody-
It's the only thing that I have left
That screams of memories.
And every night without knowing why
I wind it up again,
Letting him cry me to sleep
As I wait for it to end.
Where once I saw sweet innocence
And his love so pure and true,
I now see horror, a sweeping black hole,
Thats' center is me and you.
Watching the ballerina dance,
My heart seems to beat in time.
I wonder if I would spin for you
If you whispered your quiet rhyme.
With your music box inside my head
I quietly pace the floor.
Remembering all the words you said
And how they're gone forever more.
But it strikes me at how the dancer
And myself are so confused-
So quickly there we both would spin
Every time you sang your tune.
Hungry (97)When I gave myself to you,
You promised that you were true,
But now that you've left me
I wonder now, how it could be?
What should I call this new found addiction?
Evil, Sinful, Exciting?
Oh what strange, wry contradiction...
You need time to clean out your attic
But freedom, love, cannot come without cost.
So here I am- Psychosomatic,
Yes dear, my appetite is lost.
Singing the Same Old SongVerse 1
I'm standing on stage with my band all the rage,
Singing my heart out tonight
Feeling the push and shove of the music
And everything feels all right.
But looking down into the crowd
I know you're staring back at me-
And I want you to think that I'm so happy
It was my choice to leave.
And there you go, dancing slow
To that song I wrote about you and me...
What can I do when I still sing for you
And you're no longer there to hear?
When our love song keeps playing on
And you're long gone?
Should I move away- Just not play,
Leave fame far behind
Or do I simply go on,
Singing the same old song?
Surrounded by these people
Everything feels fine-
With a future right in front of me,
A perfectly straightening line.
But I can't tell,
Is this a form of Hell?
'Cuz you're no longer here
Next to me...
You were my inspiration,
The source of all captivation
And I don't know why you
Now what we had is gone and dead
Still I can't get
Ignorance is Blind (56)You whisper five sweet words,
Then back up six more steps.
You notice all the birds,
But blind, pass o'er the clouds.
Going on you say you're sad,
That you're worried and upset
But then I must be mad-
You're fine when you're with them.
I'm beautiful you say-
Much prettier than them.
Then why is it everyday,
I see you over there?
Maybe you aren't lying,
And maybe it is so.
But why are you not trying,
To see these tears of mine?
A Peaceful Storm (14)She turns her head when storms come by
Her mind runs far away-
So easy when she learned to lie,
She had nothing to say.
Her hand holds tight to one last hope
And her spirit has long been broken.
But since he gave her a fraying rope
Her words are never spoken.
Hiding in her house of past
She has nothing but time.
She stares out windows of broken glass
And remembers when she was fine.
But every time the clouds come round
She worries more and more-
Could it be her fear to have found
Some peace within this storm?
As she steps out she wears her coat
But she's finally facing the rain.
She's letting loose of his old note
And crying away the pain.
Through the looking glassIs this all real?
What is this sensation we feel?
Are we just reliving the life we once lived?
Did we die already and just get revived?
Who once decided what's left and right?
Who sees everything in black or white?
Is this whole world just a dream?
Is this all part of some scheme?
The answers to the questions were not written in ink
It always changes no matter how much you think
Because you're neither right nor wrong
People have been searching for answers for so long
Laws and rules,
Are just some of our tools
Tools to make this world seem more vast
If they are not believed in then they are just the past
Do we have some weird ideal?
Are we nothing yet real?
An answer is that ''we are'' therefore we exist
But that doesn't always mean we can coexist
Searching for answers can lead us to depression
But when we find the answer, do we remember what is the question?
Keeping My SanityEvery night I'm struggling, being an insomniac,
Unable to fall asleep, rest I always lack;
Different thoughts bothering me, haunting me till dawn,
Trying to suffice my need to sleep with this yawn.
Why now, of all time, am I feeling so much pain?
When will my strength and willpower be regained?
How many pillows must I need to stain with tears?
What will I do to fight away my foolish fears?
I'm confused and perplexed with all of these nonsense,
Insanity taunts if this becomes more intense;
As early as possible I want this to stop,
Want to get away from this labyrinthine trap.
These challenges I'm facing will soon be shut down,
Once I make a move and defeat this shameless clown;
This maze he set for me should not be overlooked,
That is one of the things that I seem to mistook.
I have to face this alone, as I always do,
I must trust no one when most are hiding their hue;
Finishing this journey's an independent act,
I hope my body and soul will still be intact.
Fighting in these silent bat
There is Meaning and then there is MEANINGThere's love and then there's LOVE
trust and then TRUST.
The difference in between
is a matter
Bits of Jealous.
I can hold her hands,
but I can't hold her world.
Like Maroon 5
left with songs about the girl.
A pile of poems
to keep me warm
within papercuts to the heart
when I curl, into a ball of a man
spinning out of control. Words flying to the east,
stanzas spinning out of sight,
mass production of terror,
love, dark and light.
If I had one wish
I don't know what I'd do,
if I was told that in wishing
I still couldn't have you,
but that's the way it is
fiction or fact.
These emotions are lasting
with no getting over that.
So i'll write my prayers
while holding my breath.
Better to suffocate if I can't be
with my muse,
then go on in this living death.
Bury Me with Your ReasonsMaybe I'm crazy
to think I could be loved.
All the time wasted searching
being pushed and shoved.
Just a race for others, all about the fun
except for me it's about
survival and a loaded gun.
Twisted self induced torture
that goes on for days,
lonliness to que the music.
What they've said
"You're too fat,
you're too white.
I'm too shallow,
it doesn't feel right.
You're like a brother,
just another guy,
maybe in the future.."
Maybe's just a lie.
"You're too much drama,
it's all about the karma.
It's your crazy mama, besides
you'll find another girl."
Screwed up promise
"You're a little on the short end
just being honest.
I just like flirting so
why do you have ruin it?
I need you
like I need a kleenex.
I'm sure that's okay,
blow you off
and throw you away.
I think I like you
so why do you love me,
and I crush on other guys
so I guess you're crazy"
Yeah I guess I'm just crazy.
Six Inches DeepBreathing
in the shallow
so at least
can make some use of it.
My Perfect WorldWhen I close my eyes, I imagine this world. I imagine this world where only I can live. Where everything is perfect, and nothing hurts me. This world is not run on politics, not run on industry, not run on fuel such as electricity and gas.
This world; that I have created, that is my own creations, is run on music. Run on sound. Sounds you dream of. Sounds of love, sounds of hope, sounds of a new world. A world I dream of. This world; where I hear what I want to, and I see the most amazing things.
I see sunsets; blending the sky in the most beautiful shades of golden yellow, burning ambers and baby pinks. I see a sky full of crystal like shining stars; even in a city full of harsh blaring lights. And in the middle of this beautiful sky; is the moon. Spreading luna rays of silvery blue glowing light over everything it can touch.
In this world, I can not be hurt.
Everything is how I want to picture it, everything that I would see this perfect world as. In this world, I am alone; for even
History of a Broken HeartI'd be a card house
I'd be a front line soldier
I'd do anything just to hold you
I'd be your coat
I'd be an umbrella
while your busy warming up
on some other fella
So I..I guess that's just me
I keep repeating
keep repeating history
my heart must have a disease
I keep repeating
Love is an art
that I keep practicing
say "it'll get better in time"
you suck at acting
i know the brushstrokes by now
the intricate rythem
sound a heartbeat makes
when it's broken
hear the jagged edges
click clack cracking
flake into my paint pallet
i, i guess it's just me
i keep repeating history
Like an angel
you were there
but your lips
were a snare
lethal to me
And yet I keep repeating
my heart must have a disease
I keep repeating
At Your FeetJoy,
this singular notion
is the electric spark
surging through my body.
Filling me up with light,
coursing through my internal
network rewriting every message
that once heralded the falling of tears
with the overwhelming moment of a real smile.
This is what you mean to me.
Other WritersDon't write poetry.
They cling to the fiction section
writing those novels.
Pages filled with words they say
are their own, and who is to say otherwise?
I’m one to talk.
A builder of paper alps
the glorious peaks missing,
each scaled halfway.
Only to let go again, I fall
into habits of laziness, crawl.
Another paper mountain.
When experience is something earned
the ink, to write, required.
Mine wont suffice.
Being coddled has robbed me,
fear has cost me,
both pockets empty.
There are still words in my throat,
taste of ink, shouldn't swallow.
Should spit out.
I cover my mouth, when it's easier
covering what may appear
and be regretted.
Before the pen has caught up to my mind
I've stumbled into another line,
unable to remember,
how all the legos fit together.
Without the words of others,
I can't write.
CrazySome people may say I'm crazy.
Others might say I'm insane.
Of course, there's those who'd say I'm mental.
I'd go even further to say that some would call me...
But I dislike classifying others with simple words.
I find that no one should be bound by anything-
No promises, no rules, no morals. Nothing.
People only bind themselves so that they may break free.
Because- Let's face it-
No one likes being suffocated. Being stuck.
But then again, everyone loves the satisfaction of tearing away.
But of course, if I were to define myself using petty words,
I would say I am... Special.
Then again, wouldn't we all like to consider ourselves special?
It's a human weakness, I'd say. How we all grovel to have our own characteristics,
Yet we all want to fit in.
What hypocrites, us humans are.
Every single one of us.
You know, if I believed what I said,
Then I myself would be a hypocrite.
Because I know someone who never was
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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