|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Day 244She has her wings now, frail like a butterflies.
But, she wears them proudly, as she shines
in this glittered spectrum of her new self.
She's almost near her inner perfection.
Becoming the one thing she has always dreamed of.
Taking more interest in her self,
she realizes that she can finally fly.
She sees that she isn't a stupid winged creature.
She is an intelligent and beautiful butterfly.
And now that she knowsknowsknows,
she's ready to take flight.
Day 243It feels so nostalgic to be holding papers written
in my fourth grade hand and looking through photos
at a girl who never really stood a chance at love.
I was innocent; with awards and straight A's and the ability
to turn a phrase and keep too many journals.
I wrote poems and drew on the sides of my notebooks.
And there were stories about wishes for cherry rain
and taking my mother out to dinner.
I had loved my mother.
And happiness didn't lay in my heart for myself, but for everyone else.
With the only hate on a misconstrued view of my dear father.
And during those days, I kept notes that belonged to others
and little messages were scribbled onto the corners of my papers.
"Julian's head is so big" or odd mumblings that
won't ever make sense to me now.
And as I look back at these phases of my life,
I begin to wonder and almost miss this stranger that was me before.
Day 242I'm tripping over myself aimlessly
and trying to find some stability.
I'm losing control of my thoughts and footing
as each step is a step
towards another mistake.
The world is sloping downwards
and this hill is becoming dangerously steep.
I can feel myself tumbling along,
waiting for the world to just disappear beneath me.
My emotions are at an angle,
too sharp and too odd for my own good.
I'm suffering from the projections of my mood;
I'm dropping in degrees with each foot.
And as I walk, there's no direction,
no destination to steer me to better places.
And I know I'm going to lose
myself to these drastic life changes.
Day 241I want to tear a hole into my chest;
where my heart beats
and myself drowns within a mess.
I'm dying on the inside
and I want everyone to see.
My fingers poking out of my lungs,
my hands aching to be reached.
I'm calling out for help,
scribbling words into my skin.
Cut, carve and curl my edges,
until every space and every crevice and every crack
is filled with pointless ramblings.
I'm so broken.
And a monster eats away at my thoughts.
Chewing down my common sense,
until I slowly wither and rot.
I'm an almost complete nothing,
trying to hold on, but feeling myself slip.
If only my dreams weren't of kissing within fires
and drowning within oceans
and the moon crushing my very being,
perhaps I would be able to pull myself back up again.
Day 240I'm an achy-breaky- mess again.
Coloring outside the lines in blue hues.
I'm scribbling myself in tired circles,
digging the crayon into my paper skin.
A well marked misshapen reminder
that my life is just a shape.
One that doesn't ever end
and continues to meet up at the corners.
And when I'm crumpled around the edges,
torn and broken and crinkled in the mind,
my thoughts and feelings get tossed about aimlessly,
thrown out with the rest of life.
Because I'm simply blown over,
dragged under and forgotten.
I'm just this little Miss Piece of Waste
that's put out in the trash when no longer wanted.
Day 239There's a fear for every fellow;
my heart is bound to feeling scared for others.
While he drowns within a pool of sharks,
I'm trying to save another from a bottomless pit.
So dark and alarming,
all I can do is panic.
I reach out before she falls
and watch while he tries to fit in.
I'm trying to save everyone,
but inside my head I know it's too much.
My memories scratched down the walls of my conscience,
and I'm trying to ignore the marks.
But, my heart tends to fail me
and I can't stand my own wits.
I'm trying and trying and trying
to fight my fears for them,
even though I surely won't win.
And as my temple crumbles
and my walls come crashing down.
I will surely drown within my fears again
because since the beginning,
that is where my heart has been bound.
Day 238Let me take your words
and tie them with pretty little bows.
for your papers and feelings.
I don't care for their meanings.
I just want to dress them up and pretend I can stand them.
And you ask me why I'm dancing so slow,
twirling a knife and carving into my soul.
I'm taking you out.
I'm removing you from my chest.
I don't want you to be a part of my past.
And you watch me curl and fall to the floor,
a throwing of foul words and feelings vomitted.
You make me sick.
And I'm so tired of all of this.
I just want to take your hits and be done with it.
Day 237Go ahead and just let go. I'm
Over trying to hold
On to you and your hand. I
Don't want to be your friend.
Boy, let's stop playing pretend. It's not like
You really believed we were friends to begin with. And
Eventually you were willing to say goodbye someday.
Day 236You have me chasing you through my dreams
trying to hold onto something that just has no hope.
We are racing down dark hallways with too many doors.
I don't know which one to open.
I'm afraid of the memories each one holds.
And you can't quite grasp why I grow tired
of trying to get you to understand.
My words aren't enough.
And the distance to you changes everything we had.
I wish you could see that this friendship is a pile of dust.
A mess of my fallen words that slipped off my tongue.
I want to cut, cut, cut them into my skin.
Try to comprehend them.
Memorize and understand.
Because I can't quite figure out where things got out of hand.
And you can only whisper me your sorrys,
trying to give me something to hold onto.
But, I'm done, done, done.
I'm no longer wanting to be your friend,
when you clearly have proven to me that from the beginning,
I really wasn't one.
Hey YouHey you.
With the perfect smile,
Even if it hasn't been seen
In a little (or long) while.
I hope you're feeling okay.
And I think you're
Doing really great today;
You are one less day away
From your perfect tomorrow.
Peter Pan EnvyWe molded pirate ships
from heavy storm clouds,
flags puffed up
and scooped out
like handfuls of sand
while the car windows
steamed in the cold.
You told me stories
of a boy in green
and his war with
the hooked man,
said they took
those like us
to the first star on the right
and straight on to morning.
You made me believe
and when life got hard--
mom hopped up on pills,
nights filled with demons--
I breathed wishes
to be stolen away.
No pirate ever darkened my stoop
with his wayward compass
or water-stained maps;
no fairy ever left glitter
smeared on my skin
like good dreams.
I look to the sky
when the wind blows
and hold my breath
with his name on my tongue
all the same.
SeptemberThe summer was so hot
the dogs stuck to the sidewalks
with the newspapers
and the black metal cans
everyone left waiting on the curb.
You could smell it
in the glass pitchers
on table tops,
and the sheets that never
dried on the clothes lines;
the canvas beach bags
mothers dragged wearily
across the sand
and the ice cream trucks
melting across the highways.
Children felt it open
up the windows at night
and find a corner
of the bed to smother,
while fathers baited it on hooks
or mowed it down
in flat, dry stripes
as if begging each other
And the crickets just hummed
beneath the corn silk
and the dry mouth
daring the cats to play
hide and seek -
searching for September.
Note to SelfDate a librarian; they'll read you until your spine falls apart, and still love every page. They'll underline your highlights, your endless seas of profound poetry, as if they've mistaken your manatee appearance for a mermaid. They'll hang off the cliff of your chapter 15 and dive into the next page as if you're about to reveal what they've been looking for. And when they don't find it, they'll tear out your words letter by letter with a hush, asking you oh so sweetly to stay quiet. Finally, they'll bind your broken spine with tape and set you on the shelf for misplaced books until they forget you were ever there, but they won't be done with you. They'll never be done with you; even when it seems your pages, your rib cage and heart, is filled with nothing but dust.
thirstYou tell me to breathe in
the scent of my tea:
Apple Cinnamon Spice,
it is crisp and infusing
the aroma into my lips.
Honey coasts along my spoon,
apple biting into its
golden flavor. Cinnamon bursts
forth for a brief moment and I am
Stormy nightPouring rain
Just another night
In this sad existence
The rain feels refreshing
The darkness is comforting
And they bring a smile
To my melancholic face
I am one with the night
One with the storm
Standing under the streetlight
Waiting for life to happen
More to Come, More to LoveMore to come
More to love
More potbellies bulging seductively
More love handles to lovingly handle
More expanding muffintops to nibble
More inches on the measuring tape
More pounds on the scale
More softening fat bottoms to sit upon
More comfortable living
More people becoming fluffier everyday
More size acceptance
More tubby tolerance
More self-loving wonders
More deliciously sinful food to enjoy
More freedom from guilt and shame
More liberation of libidos
More opening of minds
More unshackling of hearts
More release from constraints
More living large
More emancipation of bodies
More sleeping in
More breakfast in bed
More letting oneself go
More unbuttoning of pants
More flab enveloping abs
More thickening of thighs
More softening of faces
More doubling of chins
More dimpling of cheeks
More fine fat rolls
More cinnamon rolls
More buttery dinner rolls
More swiss chocolate rolls
More ice cream
More biscuits and gravy
More bread and
Day 116You try to fool me with all your lies,
covering up a face so strange.
But, I know what you're like on the inside,
and I find the monster beautiful anyways.
You say your bad luck walking my way,
and I just dismiss it all with a kiss.
I don't care for such superstititions,
I just live for what is and this.
You try to convince me that you're not worth it,
and you throw words that are never too nice.
But, I keep holding on like crazy,
because I can relate to living a difficult life.
You say you don't understand my actions,
and you pry me with questions and obscene words.
I just tell you it's very simple darling,
that I am the only one who can see your worth.
Keep in Touch!
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