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3 a.m. isn't for youyou are a bottle of liquor,
spilling out on the kitchen floor,
emptying quicker and quicker
until you can't take anymore.
and when i try to stem the flow,
to wipe your sorrow from the tile,
you try so hard to let it all go
when i just need you to stay awhile.
"i can't, i can't," you cried,
tears falling like rain from a cloud
"honey, you tried," i whispered, "you knew i'd
listen if you'd said your thoughts were this loud."
and i'll keep trying to understand you
even if your pain cannot be matched,
'cause darling, i know everything tastes new
without conscious thoughts attached.
Reality's RejectionI look at the world as it is,
but am I noticed or seen?
I have nothing that makes me stand out,
no crystals or jewels that gleam.
I am just me, and it's not enough.
I try to get by but it's really tough.
I push myself harder but it gets rough.
I'm shown that I don't have the right stuff.
Simply throwing your hat into the ring
isn't worth the time to do,
especially with all the strife and pain
that life is meant to put you through.
Sometimes I wonder if it would make more sense
to rig up a bomb or two.
Then I would just curl up to it like a cat
and the pieces of me can stick to the wall with glue.
At least when I'm pushed away with such
an explosive opinion like that,
the pain will be non-existant,
and I'll be a new form of splat.
But being alive is the worst for it
and it doesn't make things any easier.
Without any support for myself,
must I turn to something sleazier?
I would rather not; I stick to my guns.
I hold fast to what I feel is right.
I will push back if I have to,
and will c
Sixty-one SecondsIt took him sixty-one seconds to die. I counted.
The beach was only a walk away from there, and the sun was beating down on our heads and our hats. We hid under the trees and laughed. We were in love, if that's what love meant. We hugged each other, as we walked down the burning pavement in loud flip-flops and ripped shorts.
We were so close. I didn't know that that would be the last time I'd ever see him alive.
I was nervous when I told him, that if we were really in love, we would be together forever. He giggled softly, and told me forever was a long time. I knew that of course. It was too good to be true, I thought. He told me not to think about forever, and we sat on the park bench, overlooking the beach. I leaned my head on his shoulder and I felt his smile light up above me, and I smiled too and closed my eyes. Everything was perfect, that moment there, it felt like forever, a good kind of forever.
We didn't notice the shouting. We were too in love.
Love can do that. Love is blin
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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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