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Before MeWhat's more beautiful?
The over radiant glow of your
skin or your dressed down soul?
The way I pant and sweat in desire,
the way you ignite my body with erotic fire?
Am I lost in your eyes again or are we
going together in sin to that place
I love? Did you know you were more
than eternity, more than enough to
I can't bear such an explosive entity
before me. Yet here you are.
Terror on TopThere is nothing I want more, nothing I desire more strongly than to feel you below me, asking me, begging me, to continue. Your need is stronger than your desire, and I can feel every ounce of that need enveloping me, swallowing my ability to control, to stop my shaking senses. I inhale, searching for your fear, but chocking on my own. Are you ready to be told, to be sold into slavery of my heart? I don't know where my hands go, except feeling them around your neck, fingers slipping into their nooks with force. My hands are home. I don't know whose really in control, but I feel you slipping away, I continue to ride the waves, each thrust causing my anger to rise, I hear you cry out, I want you to scream for me to stop, only to be drown by my fingers, stinging your face. I taste your sweat, I place dirty wagers on whose going to cum first, inside my head of course. I don't want you to know. I just want to hear you say please. Fuck, I am so terrified.
There Was This Girl...... and she was alone, in the quiet of the womb. She waited anxiously for the great happening to pass so she could finally see love. It burned inside her. There was this girl that thought so frequently of love that she convinced herself that that was actually what she had been created from. Love.
There was this girl that made it through the great happening, saw love for the first time. So she thought. As suddenly as it appeared, it had withdrawn from her. There was this girl that wondered why the great happening had to be so painful. Where did love go?!? She felt it withdrawing from her, leaving her trembling, naked, screaming. There was this girl that saw lights and faces and heard sounds and felt cold, wet, felt shivers for the first time. She could smell the heat of the moment, the sweat pouring from her body and from the Ones body as well. But through it all, she could not feel it, she could not find love. There was this girl that had been born into the absence of love.
There was t
IntensityThe darkness caresses me, ebony rainbows silently flowing.
Your touch, like the brush of Butterfly wings on unseen things,
Ignites something darkly inside me and I wait. I attempt to
Call our your name, to ask to be saved, to give into grace.
But the world around me collapses and fades, and all this
From the mere embrace of your finger tips.
I inhale one last time and right before I start to die,
you return to me with your fire and ice, once,
then twice, you revive me. You engulf my body and we
fall away to the sea, just the stars and the trees and all
of eternity escaping from your hands. I attempt to be stable
but sinking sands are over come, my heart and my breath
are on the run, can not be caught, because I am being taught what
it means to find euphoria.
I am reaching hysteria and then when it seems I will find defeat,
our eyes meet and you smile. Your skin brings forth the softness
of moss in the moonlight, the power Of a single candle in the sunl
Hiking BootsI thought of you today, while walking, in moments of sunshine admits
All this grey. I thought of ways I could say what's been keeping
Me up at night. The things I fear, the things I like. The things
I can't keep in sight for very long. Because without a notice or
A farewell song, they are gone from me.
In a moment of solidarity, I took a path divided in three.
I just wanted to wander, I wanted to see. I wanted to be
Missed for one fleeting moment. I wanted you , I wanted
Something. I wanted the stars to die and for you and I
And everything I loved to be gathered into one place.
I imagined all of eternity's beauty in a single space
And he was standing right in front of my eyes. I neither
Took for granted nor seemed surprised. I simply smiled.
I kept walking, but not for very long. Because in this moment, in
the sunshine and the farewell song, I realized with a start, right where I belong.
Can We?Can you sit a while with me? There is something I need to tell you.
I have been trying for 24 years to get through to the other side,
To finally have a release and find peace in solidarity. To realize my purpose
And find clarity. But I think I have been bidding my time until now.
With my eyes adverted towards to ground I stand before you naked and
Vulnerable, waiting for you to turn the table. Waiting for you to realize you
Are unable to see me. But I hold my breath, and then you speak.
You ask me to whisper to you my dreams. You ask me to believe in these things,
to be unafraid for a change. To write my poetry, to turn the page, to know for
certain that there will be another day. You beg me to listen to your heart beat, to
take a seat next to the lilies and lies. To take from misery the golden skies
with ample opportunity. You ask me to see. To no longer count to three
before I jump. To just be faithfully blind and love. To let the peace I have be enough.
To let go of my hu
Returned HopeBreath taking, stolen. You came into my life with
your golden skin, your blue eyed sin that glimpsed
into my very soul. Stole, yes taken, my grief in my
utterly forsaken hopelessness. You made me commit
to something I have been so afraid of, something
that I know I am not made of. Hope.
When I had lost my faith and I could not cope,
you were there with Vodka and a rope, a net,
a catching glove and a smile. Moments passed and
after a while I could breath again. I stopped thinking
of him, I even stopped hating. I think
I have simply been waiting for someone honest,
someone with more than an empty promise.
So as you lie there and we begin our trip,
I smile slightly and bite my lip and remember,
There will not be a dreary December because
you have returned my hope and peace. I wanted a release
and you granted me a sea in which to find myself.
Where as we may never be anything else,
You have my desire for a "friend".
You are him.
TomorrowTomorrow isn't such a long time when we have eternity before us,
I hear you whisper my name and it's like a chorus of angels...
maybe it's demons, but that voice has given me enough reason to hold on,
to stay strong, to finally belong to something bigger than myself.
There is a peace in and of itself when I remember your fingers tracing,
replacing my scars with purity again, removing my sins and allowing me
to heal from within, whereas I never thought it possible.
I never would have thought it believable that I could love without convictions,
without bartering, without fearing and simply tolerating. To love is impermeable,
but to be loved by that for which you would die, is not measurable in this
language or the next. It is a triumph, a passing of a test, a final exam
before our forever can begin. And alas! It has begun. I have
fought for so long to find it, and now I have won. I do not claim to deserve
it, but it is mine to claim and run with. And that is what I will do.
SpeakThe times are as dependent and derived as
they were yesterday. I step down from the ladder
atop my stage and walk to the audience, to
kneel and repent, and set my eyes upon you.
I hand you the microphone and ask you not
to condone what I do here, just swallow your
fear and for once open your everlasting mouth.
Do not doubt what you feel, do not question what's
real, do not ask for a deal or a bargain. Just begin.
I take my seat, resting my aching defeat, and waiting,
desiring nothing more than to hear what you
are saying when you think I am not listening.
The sweat on your palms is glistening but I am still
looking, breathing, waiting, because it is your turn.
You try to learn the lay of the stage, you try to find
a way to make it play in your benefit. But I will sleep
here if I must until you finish it, the song that you have
been writing from the moment we met. The dogs have been
fed, the plants are wet, the anger is dead. It is just
you and me, at a quarter to three. I wi
this is a warning.i.
The first thing you need
to know about people is this:
If you cut off our head,
we will grow two in its place.
We will divide and conquer
until there's nothing left
but tiny gaping mouths,
clacking and salivating
at the crumbs of an empire.
They tell me hurt is like
a paper cut:
quick and forgotten,
Hurt is the first step
off a balcony,
the first gasp
in a chain reaction
screaming from the railing
to beyond the pavement.
When I finally hit the ground,
I looked up and saw my halo
dangling from the edge,
He said, she said,
I wanted, he lost, she won,
I ruined this, I broke your heart,
he left me,
I miss you.
This is nothing new.
Your tragedy is always
what's it like to realize
every slash on your soul
has an identical twin?
What's it like to know
you're going to die
the same way everyone does:
scared and alone?
We are disposable.
The hydra g
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.
War and CancerI want to go back
and meet us one more time,
before the war and the cancer
took up so much of the day -
before my father could no longer
remember what the present
was supposed to mean
and your mother
could still get dressed
without losing her way.
I want to know
what it felt like
to board a plane
to somewhere hidden
and not care
if our names and faces
to walk as long
as we wanted
without the sun and moon
creating an argument.
I want to feel you
roll into my arms
where I forgot to cut the grass
and you did not
water the flowers;
to hear you
watching the cardinals
unearth the spring.
And to know once again
how this place
started becoming new.
The Re-Prettify ProjectBreathing in silver filaments
will not make you pretty on the inside.
You cannot polish and buff
lung or aorta
until it is shiny and new.
If you have filled your life with toxins
and allowed your eyes
to cloud over with coal dust
do not, my friend, do not
seek silver linings from anything
but penance and kindness.
Throwing gold-dust over your head
will not administer you a halo.
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.
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
It was so suddenIt was so sudden.
It was so fast.
It was so scary.
We were so happy.
It was the best.
But the thunder fell.
And now there’s nothing left.
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.
hurt the mostI am trying to decide what hurts the most,
surpressing myself or dancing with the ghost
of my former happiness. Too many nights spent
wondering where this road is leading,
finding myself doing nothing but speeding down
the curves of my youth. The rear view mirror is clouded
with mistakes and regret, then I look forward and
see you step into the road, blocking my passion
and hindering my soul from its true path.
Still I'm wondering what hurts the most,
lying to my heart or following this road
with a numb sense of hope. I have tried to let
go of our many differences, demanding myself to
pretend that I can change you, but alas! I accept
that I can not. I have forgot to be true to myself
and let the belt of conformity fall to the ground.
I have forgotten how to be easy and real, how
to fully feel how I feel, how to discern scarps
from the rest of the meal of life.
I can not indulge this make believe game
that you and I are truly the same, when it has
been proven time and again that I am wh
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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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