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the nowi can only observe what only i have heard
stirred up blurs that swerve and return
murmurs and faint sounds and subtletys
did someone speak or am i hearing things
again and again i wanna know wtf was said
i wanna show whats in my head but no...
the highs and the lows only i can know
i throw myself for a loop a few times daily
im afraid my observation skills are failing
if i've portrayed anything less, im not saying
im propped up against a 2-way mirror
looking in on myself looking in on myself-
mash potatoes n dave-Ei get so paranoid i give myself a heart attack-
then i see secret messages when the shards crack back-
man i go hard and act wack-
see stars n fall on my back-
i cant feel my arms and legs and it frightens me as a matter of fact-
this shit whips me into a frenzy laced panic attack-
i spit shit that'll get messy ace and call it spastic rap-
it might even be a magic act-
a slightly genius drastic flashback-
im fightin these evil demons from hell who have come to drag me back-
so i said cut me some slack-
and then i busted some caps-
put my finger on the trigger then i pulled that motherfucker back-
that officially labels me a demon slayer-
you listening satan imma see you later-
make me some fuckin eggs and fry me some taters-
breakfast tastes like hell i cant wait for lunch later-
i love brunch man so fuck you haters-
yo i cut up some honeydew melon, any takers?
fuck that i want cake n make it devils food-
i bust raps for days its cake i represent it dude-
360 spun like full circles get
no need to explaindancing into the abstract, steppin' up the kicks and poppin' up with the collar, peep a mothafucka standin' alot taller... breathe in the new ways, ease the truth, no need to explain, this is shifting into the new image to ascertain... this is the new definition of bein' high, scrapin' the skyz, fulfilling a personal meaning of completeness in the eyez, cuz life likes to administer its unique feeling of surprise... rockin' it, preference is to fly, fly with the wind and the breeze and the lights, like it when they blink, i see style within mystique, feel it when words cause deep thinking... what others see as random and absent of meaning, only one has the ability and piece of mine/peace of mind to really see and feel the meaning, and i mean this deeply, this i know theres no need to explain but within me it carries just so god damn much meaning....
self-transforming machine elvesdon't get distracted
by the patterns of activity
as you climb-
keep soaring forward
until you blast through
to the other side-
a whole new world
where time is swirled
and the entities are so happy you've arrived-
speaking in objects,
you must remember their message,
because it will deeply affect your life-
the same spotthe mist of the meaning
i ingest what you're feeling
broken down like compounds
there's something about downtown
i aim to feel release
from defeat, these city's streets
invisible moving and shaking
this town ain't what you make it
it's nothing to trade your life for
sitting in the same spot every minute
just the same old shit, same fucking shit
sun goes up and down like a slow motion strobe light
in this battle if you don't know, don't fight-
versatile forms of lyrical functionsmixes in with the least of things
like the feverish heat it brings
standing there watching time slow
inside that stare its so well known
its all around its swirling out here
so it turns out i'm an imagineer
i disappear from faulty retrospect
never take for granted introspect
i suspect things always work out
or serendipity will dissipate doubt
how nice is perpetual high spirits
i'm fearless like, "i won't hear this."
only thing that i hold sacred
is the unimaginable way to take it
meaningful waves will flood you
words are real and ring the truth
never let fallacies slip and contort
face reality don't sell yourself short
remember to always laugh at shit
for this is all just holographic shit-
no floatconfused thoughts
is my bad habit
getting lost at sea
criss-crossing the Atlantic
through my brain
with torrential downpours
is my thinking
i wave goodbye
as i'm sinking-
agitatedthese random faces of insignificant specks
all drastically chasing their own shadowy deaths-
progression is stealing my breath, because a destiny of nothing left
has got me collapsing under the debt that i owe to myself
but theres nothing left-
theres nothing left, look through to me,
i got a few screws loose, but thats nothing new to me-
i'm agitated, over-imaginative, and lacking a sensible way to explain this
what the fuck is going on i cant take this
swervin' out my brain, burnin' out the day-
this is a nice way to see the night go away-
im thinkin ultra-clear but all signs say braindead-
im feelin' so vivid although my swayz stay faded-
lets see how many "wtf's happening"'s i got left: none-
this is why at times i dont mind clouds blocking the sun-
the entire sky can peep me leavin my gaze up there-
my tired mind needs peace due to drastic collapses of care-
nevertheless, my inner fire still smolders-
unaffected by the worlds gradually gettin colder-
i just shake the dust off my mothafuckin shoulders-
continue to rack my brain about a Golden Moment Smoker-
fleeting moments gettin gone in an instant-
see im right there but my lifes just lackin the live in it-
it is what it is, and this is all just poetic radiation-
"im sorry you had a bad dream" i said with a smile, and a heart racin...-
AmaranthineCast your dreams
To your body's tide
When your mind opens wide
All things end
Yet there's no goodbyes
From within your own eyes
How far gone? (Updated)Just because there's words
Doesn't mean there's a thought behind them.
(The slate was wiped clean.)
Just because my eyes are open
Doesn't mean I'm awake.
(I fell asleep long ago.)
I may be hearing
But that doesn't mean I'm listening.
(I've tuned into another station frequency.)
I may have been touched
But that doesn't mean I feel.
(I'm long past numb.)
Though I eat
I shan't taste.
(The food has been bland since before this.)
I wouldn't want to wake up.
(Your world is terrifying.)
My mind's eyes are completely closed
I like where I am.
(My world is nice. My world is safe. They can't get to me here.)
I'm in my bubble.
How far gone am I?
I can't take
All the pain I see.
(It shouldn't effect me.)
I feel like screaming
At the world.
(As if that would do anything.)
It's like torture
(Because I can't help you. I don't know how.)
So I'm hurting.
(I feel lost, you're always my constant.)
What do I do?
How can I help you?
(Please don't go! I need yo
SmileI am the clippings.
The shards and the trimmings.
The thrown away and wasted, stitched and pasted.
Lost and Fragmented.
But I'll put on a smile and pretend I'm not dented.
What do I write?I don't know what to write.
There's so much on my mind,
So many things that could take flight!
But I don't know what to write.
I could talk about inadequacy.
How I was lazy and immature and didn't listen in school.
How I don't have much vocab and my grammar is as useful as a broken tool.
How I don't write much because I'm afraid of appearing as a fool.
I could speak on inadequacy.
Then there's always anger.
How people say I'm good at art when all I see is a twelve year old's lines.
How my freedom is restricted and I'm just confined to two places.
How my friends don't respond and I sit here in stasis.
Yeah. I could write about anger.
But how about guilt?
How I've been such a asshole to my family in recent months.
How I've not stayed in touch with the friends who're living in hell.
How I screw up often and end up hating myself and not leaving my shell.
I don't know.
Maybe I just care too much.
Writing at OxfordBetween the dusty pages of
drunken novellas and tragic plays,
a small ferret creeps and a young girl strays.
Enticed by a fantasy mirror and
lightly cut by a subtle blade,
the fabrics between worlds gently part
and literature is new and made.
A delicate array of alternate ideas
welded together within the parchment of a book.
Be careful how far you peer between
the never-ending lines of flowing ink.
Beware of your ever changing daemons and
ensure you don’t fall for their trick.
For they would have you think that
there is nothing more behind these shelves.
The truths they do hastily conceal as
there is more than you could ever believe.
Keep your friends closer, your enemies closer still.
You’ll never know where you may meet as
you hide behind your wandering quill.
Wo willst du hin?Sie suchte sich
Sie versuchte sich
versuchte zu finden
Sie fand sich
fand sich nicht
Nord Ost Süd West
wer sollte sie
sollte sie nachhause bringen
wer sollte sie festhalten
denn es machte keinen Sinn
um einfach zu warten
The Moon in VirgoThe Moon in Virgo
She wore Mercury on her lips;
For when the visions came
the madness left a poisonous taste in the mouth
and rotten teeth
There was once a sweet and youthful
element, as is the case with women,
But she lost her worth in societal eyes
long before twenty two.
Now she is eighty six
with no husband to determine her path;
The stars do it well enough.
Even the sun shines in a way
that allows her to regain stolen beauty,
Without the use of too much rouge.
Astrology became a science when God abandoned her,
Many would argue he was never there.
A distant relative was burned as
a witch of sorts,
But she is not bitter.
The tea she takes helps her to forget;
To drift off to sleep in a manner so sweet
that she cries to dream once more upon waking.
On Wax WingsSpeak not softly
of your troubled fate
Huddled late, cross at the
Loss of doubled rates
Prostitute your sorrows
til the morrow can't come
Mind: scant and numb,
You borrowed some horrors
For you to Tell, See, Believe
Starve her beastly cheap when she's deceived,
Upheaved and ruptured,
As you yet corrupt her,
Leave her upstirred in life's broken structures
Who ever said you can see beyond the sun?
Beyond the moon, the sword, and beyond the gun?
Who ever claimed you could walk the seven seas
Through heaven's fire and through its dreaded breeze?
And thread with ease a Gordian knot at whim, known,
While playing your accordion hot with prim tones,
and prone to the thoughts of the world before you
Kneel, adore you to the core you deplore through?
Prostitute your every degradation
Blame it all off with prevarication
Declare with patience that you just can't face it
Deny your dishonesty, then embrace it
You harmed me,
Lied, defied, denied
And tried to get by
on wax wings to fly too high
Open Letter to A MisogynistHello Sir or Madam
I am here today to ask you a question
Why, and perhaps this seems to you an ambiguous question,
But why aren't you a feminist?
I don't understand, do you not believe women equal to men?
Do you not think that women are people?
No, you say? That's not what you think at all?
Than why aren't you a feminist?
Is it because you don't hate men?
Neither do I.
Is it because you're not a lesbian?
I'm not either.
Is it because you think we're already equal?
Is it because you believe the negative connotations of being a feminist?
That's what I thought.
But please, listen a moment longer
And hear my reasons
And understand that I am not mad that you are not a feminist
I only seek to make you see why
Being a feminist is so very important.
At sixteen I spend my life in school
Being sexualized by boy-men who's names I do not know
Being called a hot piece when I wear heels (I wear them because I'm short)
I have been told to cover up my shoulders when my shirt wa
VagueWhile we're on the subject
.....i'll be off the topic
will we still carry on
.....if i'm lost and forgotten?
she said she'd be there
.....but she was unprepared
she said she'd be there
.....but now she's lost and scared
be so vague
be so vague
be so vague
When we finally start
.....i'll be there to stop it
your mind is so cramped
.....and mine is all knotted
we said we'd be clear
.....but see this mess we made?
we said we'd be clear
.....how can you be so vague?
be so vague
be so vague
be so vague
(there's nothing more to say...)
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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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