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Life of a Fashion MajorNo time to sleep.
No time to eat.
No time to sleep.
No time to eat.
No time to sleep.
No time to eat.
No time to stop.
No time to think.
AloneI feel my heart breaking.
The silence: suffocating.
I’m drowning in tears.
The emotion is killing me.
And yet you don’t care.
You used me.
You don’t care about me.
You care about her,
The one who broke your heart,
And left you without cause.
Now here I am,
My shoulders shaking from the weight of yet another broken heart.
You call yourself a fool in love.
It is I who am the fool.
I trusted you with my every thought,
My every feeling.
You broke my trust.
You left me alone.
SilentI try to speak,
But cannot find the words.
When I do,
I have to fight to be heard over you.
You ask me a question,
Then ignore me when I answer.
I try to find my voice,
But you keep me lost.
You steal my map.
You keep the treasure hid far away.
My opinions are meaningless.
I try so hard to be what you want.
But sometimes I lose myself,
And can only think to scream,
The sound still unheard over your roars.
I try to make myself heard.
I scream out in pure agony,
Pure primitive instinct to survive,
To feel anything close to alive.
Yet under you,
I only end up silent.
The ManI couldn't help but stare. There was just something about this man that was so intriguing. I have no idea why but I just couldn't take my eyes off the tall, thin man. I tried to look away, but some mysterious force would make my eyes snap right back onto him. He must've noticed me staring because he started walking towards me. And yet I couldn't stop staring.
"Can I help you?" He was standing right in front of me and I could see every feature clearly. His long black bangs and fair skin brought out his ice blue eyes which sparkled behind his glasses. The small silver stud in between his soft, plump lips and his strong chin glittered in the bright California sun.
"You were staring at me." His voice was different than I expected. It sounded almost cartoonish.
"Oh! I um uh." He fiddled with the bar across the top of his left ear and chuckled, obviously amused by my struggle to form a coherent sentence.
"Some of my friends and me were just about to get in line for the h
Story blip 1I felt his icy cold fingers rubbing against my arm as I stared deep into his equaly icy blue eyes and whispered "I love you" without even thinking, the demon-like creature pulling me deeper and deeper under his spell. He pulls me into an icy, passionate kiss and I fall completely, his lover and his slave for all eternity, our souls bound by a sick, twisted fate, keeping us in this hellish waltz until the end of time.
Trying to get away.
Trying to ecape the darkness and find the light.
Nothing but running.
Running from my fears.
Running from my past.
Running from my demons.
Running away from the monster I've become.
Running away from myself.
The chase is never ending.
A Visit from SatanIt all started with me and my parents going to visit my brother at college down south. We decided to make it into a little trip so we went to New Orleans for a few days. The first few days were normal save for the occasional ghost which was to be expected.
Then At around 4:30 am on one of the last nights in New Orleans I woke up for no reason laying on my back looking up which was weird because I usually sleep on my side curled up in a ball. As soon as I opened mu eyes I saw a bright red web and a very thin man clinging to it like a spider with red skin, claws, and yellow eyes, hissing like a snake. I was frozen as fear spread to every cell of my body. The man then looked down at me, an evil grin on his horrid face, and said "I want you." in a low, grumbling voice.
I instantly broke free from my fear-induced paralysis and ran into the bathroom screaming which woke up my whole family. When I told them what I saw they all laughed and called me crazy because they didn't s
Haunting in the Hallway"Earlier in the summer I was at my family's beach house in Oxnard with my parents. Late one night I was thirsty so I got up to get some water in the kitchen at the end of the long hall upstairs.
I got halfway down the hall when I saw a transparent white figure coming up the stairs. It had long black hair that looked as if it were blowing in the wind, fair skin, and wore a long, tattered white gauzy gown which also looked as if it were blowing in the wind. I noticed the figure was floating a few centimeters off the ground and didn't have any feet.
After a few moments of me staring at it, the figure turned to look at me. I noticed it was insanely beautiful but had two black holes where its eyes should have been. I instantly got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and startd backing up to go back to my room. Suddenly the figure's face contorted into the face of a demon as it let out a scream I will never forget and began to rush towards me. I tried to run to my room but the door slamed
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever and
crossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,
I could only believe those words
lodged in your heart
like they did mine
because every time I think back
I can't help but remember the
under star lit constellations,
and study sessions where we
learned more about each other
than we did Biology
but now it's clear
that each beat of your heart
has made those words fade,
and you could care less
about crossed pinkies
but I'll still see you,
and hear your voice
and I'll still wish
the meaning hadn't changed-
At peace within this tranquil garden,
I picture the moments where I've made you smile.
Those times are endlessly precious to me,
I think they're worth the while.
They're worth the time I've spent with you,
Even if it wasn't long.
I only wish I'd spent a little more,
Before our love was gone.
Forgiveness takes twoThe words are struggling
to tumble off my tongue,
and despite having
a fleshy cushion
to rest on,
they stain my teeth
and sting like acid
"I'm sorry," I stutter,
but the bitter taste
doesn't leave my tongue-
not because the words weren't true,
but because I know
I won't hear,
She's an artistShe's an artist.
Always seems to be daydreaming,
She draws to escape her pain.
Cause for a single moment,
When her work is done.
It seems like there is no more rain.
And she could finally touch the sun.
The one that shines so brightly in her paintings.
But then it's gone,
So she keeps drawing,
She's become good at escaping.
Running from reality.
Because dreams are the only things she wants,
Her imagination is the only thing she's ever known.
And it's sad really...
Because she tries so hard to be happy.
But the most beautiful thing she could ever create.
Was that smile upon her face,
And that is the one thing that remains blank.
Waiting to someday be something more than,
Mommy Is A Super HeroMommy Is A Super Hero
Standing before his class, he held his tiny report,
“Who is your super hero?” Was written in yellow chalk on the green board.
Exhaling his breath, the curly haired boy closed his little eyes,
“Don't be ashamed of yourself” His mother's words rung in his ears, “And don't ever cry.”
He began to read aloud, with a shaky voice.
to his class, he told his mother's story.
At age fifteen, she was a beauty queen,
the most beautiful girl in all of the world.
She flaunted her silky hair, bore her bare legs,
prided her breast. The boys treated her like she was a treasure chest.
They respected her rules, they “looked, but didn't touch”,
but there was one older man, who from her, wanted too much.
All alone he met her, he approached her in the alley,
and all his mother told him, was that this man had treated her badly.
But what the boy didn't know was that she was taken against her will,
and that two months later, she turned up ext
Still HereSuicide is a
Thought that frequently lurks
In my mind, wich
Lets it overcome the
Laughter and happiness
Here I still fight, however
Enduring this sad life
Reviving my hopes
Embracing the gift of life
cenotaph of stormsthe first thunderstorm
was triggered by a blunt pair
of scissors, sparking violently
against the lightning,
shaking in the wind.
the downpour pierced,
tattooed with no ink but
the dark bleakness
of an overcast morning,
infiltrating uniformed wrists.
hid behind the music block,
shaky raindrops rioting
fears, she fractured.
the second storm
wept a two year downpour
outline that dripped from wrist
to hip, sidelong silhouette glances
obscured by the rain.
stalictidal waves shuddered
frozen, until icy glass
fell in stained shards from
the stillness inside.
thinner, brittler, growing
in flurries of sleet and hail,
her outline was never filled,
though the floods threatened
the third thunderstorm
was a mist-ridden melancholia,
a dream for permanence
smeared in ink through
fueled by the hope
that just this once,
the rain would spark a
rebirth beneath the ground.
instead, a tsunami
washed away the ink
as tides so often do.
Fake smileWith needles and threads I sew to make this smile remain
a fake smile indeed but thats what it takes
to be treated normal once again
between my vertebrae, you are (cemeterial)oh, these writers never speak; they
claw words out of bird carcasses,
poets pecking viscera like necropolitans.
they count their ribs to remind you
of a corpse or of a matchstick. dry bones
between fissured wrists & funeral pyres,
these have been dying days &
they're all mortuaries.
Jeff and TaylorI hold you close,
But only in my mind.
I know I don't deserve you
And yet you protest,
Insisting that you deserve me less.
We argue every day,
About who is more in love.
I know in my heart,
That you were sent to me,
From heaven up above.
I say you're prefect.
You say the same to me.
You make my heart sing,
A sweet melody,
That fills my dreams,
And won't leave me be.
I need you.
And you need me.
We're two of a kind.
I love you now.
I love you forever.
We'll always be,
Jeff and Taylor.
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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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