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I Am BeautifulI am beautiful.
You may insult me and call me names,
You can't tear down my walls.
I am beautiful.
I have a name, which I am proud of,
I approve of myself, even if you don't.
I am beautiful.
No matter what you do or say,
I will stand up and stay strong.
I am beautiful.
Words will never hurt me, so call me what you like.
You can be irritated by me, and scream your words.
I am beautiful.
I will not fall down ever again,
You will not change me.
I am beautiful,
And I am staying that way.
HeroAm I a hero?
I wrote down the question one day when I got home from the academy, my eyes filled with tears. I had been crying as soon as I got home, shaken from all of the events that went on at school. At the time when, I never knew how I could define myself. The comments that people would say about me haunted me, and I never knew if I could get over them.
"You are so mean."
"Are you some sort of freak?"
"You look so ugly."
I tried to brush off all of the other comments. One remark stuck, although. It was said by one stuck-up popular girl, when I tried to talk to her. She looked at me straight in the eye, and spoke the words that would alter everything.
"Do you know who you remind me of? You remind me of those villains like in cartoons. Why? Nobody likes them, and I am sure nobody likes you. So, go away, because villains never win." Then, she applied another fresh coat of lip gloss and strutted off with her perfect friends who snickered at me. I tried to shake it of
BetrayalI am haunted.
That face looms over me,
Staring at me,
His eyes gone cold.
We used to be friends,
Fighting on the same side.
Why did you have to
Betray me in the end?
I am holding onto memories,
Brittle and fragile like glass.
Us laughing together,
Looking into your eyes.
We were friends,
And I trusted you.
I thought you would
Never betray me.
I should have listened,
Should have looked for another.
Now, my life is tumbling,
And I am crashing down.
It is too late.
The DoveI am not alone
Not yet all broken
I might have shattered
But will not today
What did not kill me
Made me much stronger
The tears that were shed
Healed me up inside
You tried to smash me,
Break me, Erase me,
Take over control,
And leave me nothing
You really had thought
That it could have worked
Meaning you do not
Know me all that well
My guard is now up
I still have some hope
That I will protect
With one last breath
Flavor of LifeThe flavor of life
Cannot be defined
For it is unique
It is sweet like cake,
But can be sour
Like a tart lemon.
The taste of life is
One that lingers like
Tasteless like water,
Yet tasty like cake,
And still so filling
The taste is savored,
The flavor of life
The UmbrellaI adored that store, and I relished walking to it every day. There was this one item that always caught my eye, although.It was beautiful, with sunlight glistening on the windowsill. But, there was always one item that caught my eye every time. It was this umbrella lying in the corner, with the wooden handle gently leaning against the window. It reminded me of my mother, and how she wore dresses of the same color when she was still alive. The dust covered the glimmer of its maroon color, but it still lied there like it had many years before. My mother had said to me when I was very young, "When we have enough money, I'll buy it." I was five when a drunk driver crashed into her at nighttime when she was driving home from work. I was deeply crushed when my father told me after dinnertime that sorrowful night. I would never forgive that man, especially since I knew him personally. Why did he have to crash into my beloved mother? I remember crying in my bedroom, staring out the
ArtistYou were always there
In times of darkness
And in times of grief
To strengthen me and make
Me smile endlessly.
You opened my eyes
To the fact that
Time is a second
In the minute of life,
And never meant a thing.
You would illustrate
The world with vivid colors,
And taught me a
New perspective of
The life encompassing me.
You were my artist,
Painting who I was
And who you would
assist me to become.
First LoveTime means nothing
For we are the last
Two people on
You grasp my hand
and I want to scream
"Don't let go!"
As if it will be the last
are held close together
And beat as if
I used to ask
what love felt like
But now I
How Vast It IsI can't write a poem for you.
I can't sing a song for you.
I can't be you.
I once wished I could take your place and told you I would in a heartbeat.
You said "Yes, please do!" but we know I can't even do that.
We both know you're strong and have weathered many things.
But some things won't change.
This disease you have now won't change. You'll change with it.
You sent a text message, "I felt a tiny feeling in my left foot! Woot!"
I sent one back to help you celebrate.
I wished again I had what you have. Such a small thing you felt against the looming.
I can't linger on woe.
I can't linger on "can't."
I can't linger here without you.
I'll be a rock to your paper, to your scissors, to your own rock.
I'll be your memory if you ever lose yours.
I'll be here without you if I must, to keep you circulating through the veins of vast existence forever.
She is an AngelShe is an angel, beauty undefined,
Awe-inspiring, unlike any other.
Perfectly gorgeous, a gift to mankind,
In turn they swoon, one after another.
But an angel without wings is broken;
Hers were taken a hundred years ago.
The curse she bears is silent, unspoken,
But still she smiles, her beauty aglow.
What she wouldn't give for another chance,
But she knows she must live with her choices.
She stands unblinkingly, fixed in her stance,
Never once giving in to those voices.
Silently, she waits, for that fateful day,
When a mortal shall arrive in her life.
His feelings of lust shall be kept at bay;
Then, only then, shall she become his wife.
Heart beatYou open your eyes
For the first time
Ain't what it seems
Heart beating too fast
You make a few steps
Unsure where to go
Means standing still
Up in the air
And know you can't fall
Someone reaching for your hand
A gentle touch
Telling you the secret of love
Mankind only knows
Heart beating at last
Stay With Me
I have died a thousand deaths since that first glimpse. A thousand times I have drowned in the want of you.
To finally have you here with me The air, thick with your scent; I think of high priestesses of old, bathed in rosemary, clove, green leaf; of consorts to kings. I wonder how many you have seduced. It doesn't matter. Just for a moment, this moment, you will be mine, as I have always been yours. For this moment, I would trade my soul. For this moment, I will give my life.
"I cannot bear the thought of you in the arms of another," I say, brushing my hand soft against your cheek. "Be mine, just for tonight."
Arms stretched out for me. Lips parting, I feel the hunger in you. Now that I have offered, can you resist? Your arms around my neck, pulling me closer. I had feared it would be cold, here in your embrace. But it is
ApprehensionI'm sorry I hurt you.
I'm sorry you cared.
I don't know why I did it,
I think I was just so scared.
I didn't know what else to do,
and I definately didn't want to worry you;
So I hid from your sight,
behind a mask filled with smiles and delight.
But when I was most vulnerable,
and my mask began to fade;
You saw what I had been doing
much to your dismay.
Your voice, both gentle and soft
with that look of gloom
made me start to swoon.
I didn't realise it would effect you so great
but you still held me straight.
I had to turn around and go away.
I couldn't handle this tragic story.
But before I left, I heard you say,
"I love you more and more each day"
Once again I broke down
and left him there all alone.
I needed to think
and when I did,
I rushed back to where it all began,
only to realise he was gone
and I was to travel along this path alone.
It was all my fault;
I couldn't believe it.
And now I lost my one true soul.
The PianistHis fingers rested on the keys. He inhaled a shaky breath.
He had finished practicing for the day. Four hours straight, every day except Monday.
For a moment, the thought of why his fingers weren't bleeding crossed his mind. But he quickly rationalized, piano keys had no way to damage. At least, not yet, He thought dully. One of his greatest fears was growing old and getting arthritis.
The young man had a difficult relationship with the piano. Most everyone who heard him play enjoyed it. Most everyone said he was talented. But it did not seem that way to him.
He did not have idols like immortal Beethoven, or modern sensations like Einaudi. Rather, he wished to harness the soul of the piano. To meet it, to embrace it, as they had done.
The piano, he was sure, was the most perfect thing ever built. Everything about it, he could adore. The strings and hammersmechanisms, so intricate, to produce something so gripping. The slender legs like that of a beautiful woman's.
Ice CreamIce cream. Eating it was the closest to pure ecstasy she'd probably ever get. The way the cold creamy lush vanilla slid down her tongue and melted in the furnace of her mouth was enthralling to her. She was pretty sure she could live off that stuff, forever suffering brain freezes and frozen tongue disease...
Maybe that daydream wouldn't work out.
Whatever, right now Emmy was going to sit here and stuff her face with ice cream and bloody well enjoy it. It had been so long since she had actually indulged in running down the road and getting some ice cream from the ice cream van. It was for little children she'd tried to tell herself.
So that's why she was sitting on the stone wall that would no doubt leave an imprint on her butt, eating bubblegum and lemon ice cream and practically crying with joy. She closed her eyes and lifted her head until the sun shone directly on every feature on her face.
She had a thing for sunlight, a thing that generally went unsatisfied due to living in Engla
Good enoughAm i not good enough for you?
What can i do to make me good enough
How deep must i cut tell i'm good enough
Who must i kill to be good enough
Why i'm i never good enough
Someone please take this knife and plunge it into my flesh over and over and over again
Carve me up tell someone will find me attractive
Cut me tell my blood drowns the world
Look at all the pretty red drops that fall from the sky
Look closely and you'll see all the faces of all the people who self harm inj the droplets
See the droplets feed the earth and grow the all the plants
Look, our pain, does help
Just One NightWill you let me fall asleep to the sound
of your heart beat tonight?
Under my ear,
a sound that's so sweet,
like a bed of roses.
Under my body,
the soft release of your breathing,
lulls me to sleep in the darkness.
The beat is a soft pattering.
Rain drops on a window in the dead of night.
The beat is a strong clammering.
Thunder and lightning in the heavens.
My soul is rooted with fear
but it is desire that keeps me from moving.
Legs and hearts entangled, our bodies would be one.
Upon your chest, will you hold me?
Will you let me fall asleep to the sound
of your heart beat tonight?
A VoiceYour breathing stops
You cannot talk
And you do not
Know what to say
Back to the brain
Eyes slowly look
"I am not gone,"
But you cannot
Manage to grasp hope
The slumber once
Light shines through
You find a voice
You are not gone
You have a voice
You can still speak
Out to the world
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More