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empty.run through the hallways
sit down in the crowded cafeteria
i have no appetite
no sound but breathing
i can't hear
can't feel my heartbeat
it's too cold for touch
no words on my tongue
I breathe but I'm not alive
just like this piece of paper
Red TearsA cloud over red
fills the empty room
watch me drown
till I am no more
that shouldn't be
tock t h e
tick as it
with every second
tock and when he grows
tock he will stop it tick
2. complicatedfrom copper wires
we are twisted pinkies and
empty passageways of
stained glass and weighed-down bricks
and spring glory and summer windows
we are deserts
bound by the gravity of your galaxy eyes
we are beautiful
we are silent
and laughter will be joyful when we
see our reflections blended in the pond with duckweed and clear blue blood
we are parted lips of salted ocean breezes
and treacherous as one
but nothing without the other
Look Up at the Starslook up at the stars
surrounded by each other
a blanket of darkness lets them shine
look up at the stars
I am alone
They are like me, but I, not like them
Because I am alone
In a world full of strangers
I am alone
In this land full of dangers
can't let goI can’t do it.
It’s cold today, as I walk down the streets of Manhattan. Crowds bustle around me, yet the world is strangely silent. The sky is gray, and the half-melted snow burns my eyes.
I’m bound for hell.
I’m blinded now, blinded by your words, blinded by the smoke in the air, blinded by sun, blinded by snow.
Maybe it’s just
They haunt me, they drag me down, with every step I take.
I try to hide it, but I know you can tell, every time you look into my eyes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t save myself anymore.
haunt you too now. They drag you down with me, and with every second you try to
me up, tugging at my hand,
begging me not to give up, we fall
deeper. I’m sorry.
Amaranthine and wilting dahlias.Darling,
your doe-eyed belladonna is a soon-to-be
1000 paper cranes but she'll never reach the moon.
(One, two, three, four, five she's gone and breathe no more)
would be beautiful but there are
Crumbling roses carved into her
I say this as a statement, not a question, that
she buried your dahlias into her tangled heartstrings
And she'll fall on the trail of stars to heaven,
won't come home tonight.
lurking in the blinding sunshine
it is destroying me.
delusional in a different kind of way
need everything i lost
help me through
so beautiful up here
but i am too scared to fall
are you still listening
can you still hear me from your grave
(wilted roses at the floor our
haunted ocean ballroom)
i have fallen too late.
We are the broken ones.kiss my scars tonight,
i will dream in your arms
of stars shining bright
Because the world is in flames around us
Flames as bright and blinding as the sun
The world is in storms around us
Those storms are deafening and loud while we run
Don't you believe me
Won't you believe me
Let us be brave and
Cry our tears away
These aren't lies,
They are battle cries,
We will make it through
I will see you through
The sadness, through the pain
We are the broken ones. We are the torn.
We are the homesick ones, we are the worn.
Tell me you'll love me when the sun turns blue,
Tell me you'll love me like the garden spruce,
We are the broken ones, we are the shattered
We are the warriors, bloody and battered
Tell me you'll love me when the oceans are dry
Tell me you'll love me when I can't even cry
We are the broken ones.
We will make it through.
Bipolar Depression: The Blade
She looks at herself in the mirror.
Her eyes look at themselves dead center.
Her vision slowly drags down her almost bare body.
Her pale skin, Perfection. Unscathed.
Smooth. Angel like.
Her brown eyes’ gaze fall to her hand,
Gripping the Blade.
Her dark eyes were full of lust.
Nothing else was thought.
Her body fills with rage,
The Blade spurs up to her face,
She glides the smooth end of steel
Against her cheek.
She wanted the pain.
She wanted the scars.
Looking into her eyes,
The Blade was placed above them.
Pressure against the delicate skin,
Slicing violently she cursed herself.
Blood streams down her face.
The smell is overwhelming.
The Darkness took her soul.
She licks the blood,
Of cutting her lips open to her cheeks.
Her perfected face is gone.
Limb by limb,
The Blade slices
For the sweet agony
Along the collar bone
Tallied arm and legs
Bloody as hell
She looks at her own reflection.
One last tim
The Dark ForestThe dark forest
It takes you in
And comes when you least expect it
The dark forest
But at the same time it’s your graveyard of memories
As you venture deeper into the darkness
You feel this presence sitting on your shoulder
As it gets comfortable you remember the feeling
And it fills you with fright
The dark forest
Horrible in its own way
You hate being there but you’ve know it for so long
The dark forest
Inside there is no turning back
While you know you don’t want to do this
And as you reach the end you see the a shovel
The presence gets stronger as you pick it up
You walk a little longer until you get to a hole
You jump down inside it and start digging
Slowly but surely you can’t get out
And when you’re trapped there only others can save you
But you’re to insecure to accept the help
Even though the wounds on your arms, tells all your tales
And how you started digging that hole
Flesh torn from gnawed bone
You really thought you were going home?
Uncontrollable cannibalistic instinct
Limitless desire; the funeral pyre
It’s what you were meant for
It’s what you will die for
Psychotic self obsession
Ripping, tearing mindless gore
You’ll never forget what you saw
A mockery of a failed existence
Crumbles to ash with the sands of time
Desperate to retain possession
Of useless pointless hopeless dreams
Feeling the grip tightening
Never fading, always hiding
Waiting for vulnerability, the time to strike
A soulless depiction of life once lived
A sculptor’s interpretation
Of thoughts once had
Hear it sputter painful words
Useless pitiful spineless worm
You’ll never learn
This world owes you nothing
And no one cares
My MaskI put my mask on.
Time to face the day.
Time to plaster on a smile.
Time to pretend it's okay.
I want to crawl in bed.
Leave the world behind.
You're too ugly to go out,
whispers my mind.
I know I am,
I stifle a cry.
I want to leave,
I want to die.
My mask is done,
and I have to go.
Time to face the people.
Time to put on my show.
Carry onShe can hit me,
but I won't cry out.
I'm too numb to fight,
too tired to shout.
I just want to rest.
To stop all the tears.
I'm tired of trying.
Exhausted by all these years.
Leave me alone.
I'm nothing anymore.
Just an empty shell,
That's not worth crying for.
Don't call my name.
I don't exist.
She's weathered me away.
With word and fist.
I'll stop now.
You don't care.
I'm just a girl.
Caught in suicide's snare.
From now on,
I won't speak,
I won't try.
I won't be a freak.
I'll just fade.
slowly, till I'm gone.
So I won't be a bother.
So your life can carry on.
What Poetry is to MeWhat poetry is to me,
Is an escape into a mindless sea,
A place where I can write endlessly,
About the wonders and ruins of this world I see.
What poetry is to me,
Is this I write accordingly,
The words that are crafted so beautifully,
By those who let go willingly.
What poetry is to me,
Is not the same for everybody,
That different style, whatever it may be,
Keep it going and you'll succeed.
Her VoiceHer voice, that of which utters words of love,
Speak softer than feathers of a dove.
Her words show Him faithful promise,
He believes Her, hoping He won't trip upon this.
Her voice is that which beauty is given,
A voice of an angel sent from Heaven.
Her syllables singing throughout His ear,
Her leaving turns out to be His biggest fear.
Her voice is everything He wants,
It's what He breathes, He's happy for once.
He hopes with Her for that happy ending,
Their love will always be transcending.
Just Imagine, You're All AloneJust imagine, you're all alone,
Left in the world on your own.
To fend for yourself, find your smile,
Yes, find it, it's been quite awhile.
You can't breathe, you're being suffocated,
The world is too much to bear, you need to be relocated.
Another place, smaller, much smaller,
You can do it, there, you'll feel so much taller.
Gain your confidence, no it's been shattered, just hide,
One day you'll be able to say that you have your pride.
Pride beyond compare, you can do anything,
Is doing anything the right thing?
The kids shouting "YOLO," adults shouting "Carpe Diem!"
Wishing you could do the same, begging, pleading.
You can, dig deep, I know you can,
You were once stronger, once a better man.
Don't let them take you over, don't you dare concede,
Is this what you want? Is this what you need?
No, this is not what I want.
Who are you to say you're the one to flaunt?
It's my turn, you've played long enough,
I know this is hard, for me it is rough.
I have to put you away, it's time to go,
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More