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An Unhealthy ConnectionYou expect me to be an adult,
But inside I'm still a child.
You think I have my life planned out,
It's in a jumbled pile.
You say something so innocent,
At least for you it seems.
You set my head spinning
'Cause I don't know what it means.
You make me feel so immature,
You make me think too much.
You hurt me irreversably,
Then use me as a crutch.
You make me feel so lonely,
You make every step unsure.
I'm afflicted, you're my disease,
And I can't find a cure.
I can't picture life without you,
You have me under your command.
You've twisted yourself around me
In ways I can't understand.
You're greedy and you're selfish,
You're with me constantly,
'Cause you think that without you,
I would be incomplete.
I've wanted so long to be free from you,
But I'm really not sure now.
You've become such a big part of me,
How can I let you go?
Thawing OutI am slowly thawing,
It's a long process.
Shedding off layers
So that I can give you access
To what is really inside me,
Everything I've done and seen.
Every thing I've ever thought,
And all the people I have been.
When Everything is Said and DoneA clock is ticking in your head,
Body lying on the bed.
When everything is said and done
No one cares who lost or won.
And when you're buried in the sand
No one needs to understand
Why you've done the things you have,
No need to tell them if they ask.
You had reasons we'll never know.
You decided how far you'd go.
But in the end the things you missed
Were not the people you had kissed.
Leaping ThroughCross your pinky,
Hope to die,
Kiss and tell
As the crow flies.
Float to the moon,
Watch the time go by,
Ask the lonely boy
If he minds.
Take a moonbeam
To the nearest star,
Ask him if he knows
Who you are.
Jump into space
with him in hand,
Say you'll meet him
In the sand.
TimeEverything is different,
Nothing stays the same.
Time is meant to chew us,
To gnaw and bite and maim.
Enough to read the intro,
But not to turn the page.
Life gives us time to worry,
But not enough to change.
As I Grow OlderI've travelled for days in a boat alone,
Floating in the water.
Hoping to find a shore unknown.
I feel I'm growing older.
I'm running out of time,
And I'm afraid of the end,
Afraid of what I'll find
Around the bend.
Afraid of who I'll meet,
And who might try to hurt me.
Afraid of who I am,
And who I soon will be.
So I'll spend my days travelling,
Floating in the water,
Hoping to find a shore unknown.
Because I feel myself growing older,
And I'd rather do that alone.
StormThe sky is white,
The trees are black.
It sounds like the earth
Is being attacked.
The trees are swaying,
The grass is pressed flat.
By the force of the rain pouring down.
And I'm trying so hard not to drown.
*Past and Present*One hundred years ago
When summer cast golden glow
Weeping willows, river side
Cast gentle shade, punts could glide.
Mild, quiet summer day
Strawberry smell and smell of hay
Silken dress on a boat
Shaded by parasol, afloat.
Today loud music rocks river
Weeping willows really weep
T/shirt slogans, blue jean rule
Now we’re noisy but very cool.
Poem for Lou ReedTruly singular, an outsider’s outsider,
He learned well life’s hard truths, and was walking proof that
Your thoughts are only as deep as your faults.
Subjected to psychic savagery in his youth,
His mind took on an ever-changing persona
Always shifting between fame and failure.
A misfit, a hustler, a rake, a transformer,
A rogue, but not a charlatan, an objector,
But not a coward, never a coward.
An expert spinner of verse, he possessed a knack
For feel, impact, attitude, style; he always knew
Which words were those worth the listener’s while.
His means and his methods were fittingly erratic:
He would spend his days crafting curiosities
Only to then neglect and forget them.
What was important, though, wasn’t his works or quirks,
Nor his talent for causing a storm at a stroke,
But what he and his friends set in motion.
They would, unwittingly, forever change the way
We’d hear the sounds the mind thought it already kn
The Beginningons ago, before time and space,
Was born a set of twins who took its place.
One had eyes of daybreak and hair of sun,
The other, hair of night and eyes of blood.
Born to Laelia, Singer of Light and Love,
Husband to Laelius, God who rules with a fitted glove.
‘Twas a difficult birth, screams echoed through the empty world,
But Laelia was never alone or so the story told.
Lucifer was first, life entered with hollow cries,
Laurentius was next, his smiles greeted by butterflies.
Both welcomed with joyous celebration.
Excited Laelius, humans, his creation.
The Twins then never left each others sides.
Except when heavy choices caused morals to collide.
The Guardians of Childhood (Poem)
The spirits of an innocent childhood, from long ago
Arise and always protecting, the innocent
Children who’s dreams are filled with hope, with belief
With happiness as golden sand, takes the shape
Of their deepest dreams, their deepest goals,
Their deepest desires, as the sand takes on these,
A small, silent golden man, sandman, who holds the magic
Sand, that fills the kids with dreams.
He is the childhood guardian, that protects children’s dreams,
Their innocence as they sleep, like soundly angels,
Smiling in the dark. This was the guardian I use to always be told
About, in my mother’s stories. His golden sand illuminating
The pitch black night.
Another childhood guardian, she is the one who
Protects a child’s memories, and will always hold them
Dear, whose little fairies collect their teeth without
A sound, she is Toothania, the guardian, that is as kind
And as silent as her fairies. Always letting them know
Where they can find the children’s baby teeth.
Why I Hold On TighterThe gunshot echoes penetrating the air,
Increasing tensions in military warfare.
Knives that puncture and slice apart,
Fists of rage that damage skin and heart.
Explosions and smoke so sudden and fast,
No time to recover from the devastating blast.
A moment frozen in time after the disease diagnosed,
Tears falling on a body lifeless and comatose.
Car horns and screeching wheels on the pavement so loud,
Two victims of a crash of the rain from a cloud.
Though all of these things do not fill me with fright,
It is to you, my dear, they make me hold tight.
Vulnerable YouthPaper hearts from bright pink tissue meant for presents,
fanciful butterflies from orange dashed cardboard,
five petaled flowers danced around the sentence
of simplicity, ultimately to discard.
Tender thoughts from censored, guarded minds,
boldly do the simple stubby fingers strive to hide
the gift from Mommy, so that she can't find
the secret depth of the darkest snide.
The gentle pressure of acknowledging gestures
even the meaningless thank you cards
meant to send you on an emotional adventures,
only to be shredded on cynical hearts' shards.
But it is the thought that counts,
those sweet little eyes haven't yet been renounced.
NeedlesThe meat is cold from bloodless lust
My organs are damaged
Path be taken down range-
-And end with chilling wall
Forest of needle spires climb
My height cannot ask
Deem the stars they point-
-For reverence physical
Destroyed as winter comes
Invested into my stock
I am bought and brought home
With no escape from the lock
Needle sew a coat of iron
Black with the char left by
Remembrance make me a scion
And kindle a soul inside
Lids have shut and no key breaks
I cannot see between blades
Cut the night to ribbons-
-Now banners to losing way
Imposing in my blindness wait
My feet are icy cold
The forward march is death incarnate-
-Though I am numb to catch
A fabric stolen mask and clothe
The boundary pointed shed
Once streamers bleeding dry wove
The semblance of disjointed ends
No try can match the mind at work
For ochre has my pallor drained
This raiment bears a doubting murk
Through glacier impassive face
My asking wanes with setting freeze
The armour frozen bites
A pleading body already w
Poetic DarknessPoetic Darkness
We are made of waiting—
Bending over, stabbing the chest,
Nothing but bullets and pain.
Then why did I cry today,
When I dreamt your suicide note?
All day long I had been carrying these tears hidden.
You feel as if the music is happily heading
like mountain chains, hurdling ridges, peaks and mesas.
The thought will flicker, and then go out.
A dove wing folded
Is merely bent, beaten.
And then the devil glances into the room.
He’s like a crow in a crowd of magpies.
The saints and the sinners say the same thing:
“Today, like every other day, we wake up empty,”
“Night also sleeps,”
“Desire is a cold drink,”
“Nothing in nature is a metaphor.”
Beautiful, really, the way the buildings fall in.
A lock, a chain.
Like tired smiles,
Like summer rain.
A kiss on the cheek,
A whistle, a call.
Like moss underfoot,
Like leaves in fall.
A dance without music,
It's precious, it's lost.
Like shards of glass,
Like Winter's frost.
Is fading away.
A harvest moon.
Like a memory,
It's leaving soon.
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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