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Glass Bulletshow can you say you're shattered,
when you're the one that hit me,
when you're the one-
that shot me down-
and broke me apart:
a bullet without a spark
no catalyst to drive you forward,
you try to wound but end up broken in the process;
so i'm the one-
that cleans you up-
and tries to put you back together-
when all i want to do is throw you out
like shattered glass
a fallen hope,
a reality that doesn't exist,
you're lies within a barrel-
ready to fire at will-
but you're weak,
and a hopeless cause without a use
so i'll throw you to the ground,
and watch you break,
because even when you're the one who's destroyed;
i still get cut in the process
Bearing it AllAuthor John Green stated once that "Humans tend to measure time within the framework of important events…The event that we're counting…away from is the defining moment of these people's lives and it reshapes their relationship to the world so completely that it also reshapes their understanding of time." During my "before" I was a dancer; ballet, jazz, and tap. It was everything to me and my dream at the time was to someday dance on Broadway. During one of my classes, while doing battements, it suddenly felt as of my hip had popped out of its socket, causing me to fall to the ground. It didn't hurt at the time, but I still sat out for the rest of the class and went to the doctors the next day. The first trip to the doctors was quite uneventful. I was told that it was probably nothing more than a strained thigh and to just take it easy for two weeks, and if the pain is still there go back to the doctor. That was fine and I did as told, until one day in gym while playing DDR I somehow ma
All In Your HeadSoft spoken words at midnight, but she's not really there. Yet it continues, day after day, month after month. An endless cycle that you're bound to repeat no matter how many times you tell yourself she's gone.
Get it together.
Cherished memories that you can't seem to forget no matter how hard you try. And you try, so fucking hard. But at least when you pretend, the wounds don't hurt so bad. They don't burn and ache and make your vision go red.
Get it together.
So you focus on nothing, her, everything. It doesn't matter. You mutter to yourself, to her, to the shadows. And they respond, they shift, morph, drag you down until you're no more. They suffocate your lungs until you're filled with them. Filled with shadows and her.
Get it together.
Time passes faster, slower, sometimes it doesn't move at all. You're stuck until the next time because there is no in between. There's no stop, pause, no intake of breath. Nothing but a constant hum of silence and screaming. So
001Maybe maybe this time when I tell you everything is alright, it can be the truth. Maybe I won't have to hide anymore. I really don't want to. I want to be well for you. I want to be alright. You deserve so much more than I can give you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not perfect like you deserve. And that I'm so messed up inside, and outside. That I can't be okay. I want to be okay, really I do. I want to be okay for you. I want to be that perfect girl for you. The one you spend forever with. But it's dark where I am, and your light isn't enough to help me see. And I know you're strong, but you're not strong enough to catch me. And I'm falling. Falling so deep. I want to get out. Really, I do. Can't you see?
Or are you okay with the lies? Can you really not see past the surface? That I'm cracked and broken into a million little pieces. Do you not care? Do you really think I'm okay? Do you believe the words that come out of my mouth? Can you not see they're tainted black? That it's
It Was LoveIt was pain, and it was sorrow, and it was everything he didn't want.
It was her un-shed tears, and her flustered cheeks, and quivering lips.
It was hope, and a future, and something unbelievable.
It was a hug, a kiss, an 'iloveyou' that broke him.
It was her, and it was him, and a maybe ever after.
It was being lost, but being found, and never having to worry.
It was rainy days, and cloud watching, and her always in his arms.
It was forever, and for never, and a fairy tale rolled into one.
UntitledThere once was a princess of silver and gold who sparkled in the sunlight and glowed with the moon. But that princess was gone. So long gone and never to be seen again. It was strange when it happened, almost like she left with the moon. The last sliver of her ever seen before she disappeared, but unlike the moon, she didn't return. She didn't slowly come back, piece by piece till she was whole again. No, she stayed hidden away, like clouds covering the sky. The princess became a broken doll of herself, her smile that was once so bright, was now razorblades. Her edges sharp and her eyes dull. She was skin and bones and broken smiles. She danced the night away in torn dresses and broken crowns. Her princes left and her knights turned dark. Her world was a big mess of kaleidoscope colors. Lines blurred till she couldn't tell what was real from what was fake. But everything was fake now. From the smile on her lips to the promises that left them. She lived for the night, but die
Selling the NewsThey tell you to be perfect.
But really it's all lies.
One wrong move and it's all your fault.
Don't try to make it right.
It still breaks in the end.
Paranoia is the new sin,
The savage beast within.
They make it sound like a prayer,
Like it's really all okay.
But you know the truth.
What they're hiding underneath their skin.
They tell you not to worry,
Everything is fine.
But something is still there,
The greater good doesn't exist,
It's all fiction,
Suspicion is the new religion.
CagedSomewhere dark, and damp, and cold.
A rotting corpse, a story told.
Shackles binding, keeping, killing.
An empty silence, no voice is filling.
Pretty words, stories, tales.
A closing darkness where death prevails.
Where once a man, stood, screamed, and raged.
His body left, alone, and caged.
A story on RepeatFor what it's worth,
It's not worth much.
We walk along,
Never anywhere to actually go.
We say things,
We never mean.
It's an endless cycle,
A story on repeat.
A sad tale,
Of our own invention.
One thousand to go.
Words we have spoken,
We speak again.
An Endless cycle,
A story on repeat.
And whispers in the wind.
An endless cycle,
A story on repeat.
BeautyI'd rather wear flowers in my hair,
forming a delicate chain
Than diamonds around my neck,
covering my tender blue veins
For with every precious petal
and every lucent leaf
I'm a living lesson
teaching beauty can not be bought
But rather it grows and flourishes
with every living thought
Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
Fearing MeI'm not afraid to cry
and I do it
a lot more than you would guess.
It isn't always sadness,
I just feel like I need to,
feel everything so strongly
that it's the only way
to let go for a moment
because if I hold on for too long,
if my grip gets too tight
I'll break myself,
I will break you like glass
and we will both
I am a good guy
who hasn't yet found a way
to show it,
I am a good guy
who still identifies with the villains,
hides everything important
anything to throw you
off of my trail....
and I don't know why,
but I am trying.
Maybe I think
that if you could see me,
the real me,
you wouldn't want to look anymore,
want to be anywhere near me,
and the idea
that I can't add up
to be enough for you,
to be enough for me,
is so fucking heart breaking
I can hardly fathom it.
I can't say that it doesn't hurt
because it does,
it hurts a whole hell of a lot,
I've come to depend on pain,
to befriend misery
you're just a question marki met you so long ago
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
Black hole BulimicThe Composition:
I birth poems — not amaranths
in graveyards — not gardens.
sows seeds of doubt
into skeleton weeds.
A farmer plucks the bones
from Apollo's hyacinth; his
I binge on broken
cracked collectors of rocks,
of pebbles kidnapped
from barren beaches:
where crooked kings
buried in books whose
pages creak to crickets
in an abandoned abyss
of an attic—caskets on
an antiquated shelf. I
choke on the dust and
twitch in recoil.
The bickering sky
A cloud coughs—
The clock's scythe hand
swivels to the beckoning
twelve. Spastic ticking—
each bleak stroke
of a midnight heart.
The sundials do not work
now. The vampires know
I kill poems—
obligation steam machineas always
grinding the cankerous
of your cognition
until the lack of compassion
leaves you unlubricated
seized frozen bound stuck
only then the machine of
your fears will burst to steam
squealing to suckle
at the genius of my
the unsung soiled hero
of middle-class ferocity
savior of the undeserving
winding slowly deftly dying
martyr to the self-justified cause
A Kiss not Forgotten (a special tribute)Like a frost spread across valleys silent and dreary,
ever my longing lost in shimmers of shadow & wind
And days bled into years, the seas became deserts
But thoughts of thee would not perish
Thru memories untamed I staggered far and long;
upon solemn nights lit by the torch of your soul
O’ how deep I miss your fragrant cheer ..
Of warm evenings shared across Lake’s reverie,
watching horizons journey into Autumn’s dream
— wherest our hearts once bloomed a fabled sky
Those passions shared will forsake me not
Lest the Moon would bestow solace upon my ache:
I will lay marooned, haunted by thy seraphic-figure,
Or the ever fleeting caress of your gaze ...
So my soul shall yield to this mythic abyss; –
as I peer from my carriage to Nirvana
And thou away, from my arms, the Sun weeps
Unto eternity—my dear beloved, we are entwined
Forever our footprints cast in golden firmament
A kiss not forgotten in a ballet of light softly falling
I now bear the want
as love for summer fades.late morning-
there's the tease of
snow in the clouds,
in the air, and the trees
have finally lost their
the sunlight is damp.
alters the room
as it graces my skin,
and for once
i don't wake up right away.
instead i lay
between my memory bitten
sheets, and i think
about all the times he said
that he hated winter.
i don't remember
when i began to love it,
and i don't care.
nothing can shatter that.
things i cannot doi cannot sleep
and most certainly stay asleep-
with the black edged creatures
trembling at the corners
to trap me in tendrils of nightmare,
i shift too emptily for peace.
i cannot brave an appointment
i need hands to hold
this broken ship
caught in the waves with no crests.
i forget about the things i love,
but things i hate include
how i am haunted everyday
how i cannot seem
to call him by name
or directly address him-
there is no "you"
in my words,
only fear and flashbacks.
i cannot leave an unfinished crossword out of my thoughts
just like a relationship that had tapered off;
i cannot let go of things that have melted into my grip;
i cannot break a heart
Mr MrWith words I cannot utter,
not even to silence.
You cross my mind,
and hold my heart.
With the pain it all brings,
I don't even notice.
You're the drug that I crave,
Addicted to the numbness.
The perfect melody,
a chorus stuck in my head.
I'm lost with you,
drowning in your fire.
You're all I wanna see,
Dreaming when I'm awake.
I need a way,
just to escape.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More