Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login

Similar Deviations
Organized by Artist
Happy Memories:

We live in moments
Recorded as memories
Happy in the past

-Chen Yuan Wen, 9th April 2012
Last time I snuck one o' the Captain's more emotional poems on, ye all loved it. So here's another one I snuck out from him. Truth be told he writes very emotional haikus often. If ye guys like it, I'll sneak more (I have immunity from the captain's punishment, kids don't try this at home)

-First Mate Hayes :iconelizabethswanplz:
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

An Oath to My Father:

The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.

A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.

I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors

Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.

Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!

Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -

Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood

Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hungry, he is eager;

Slacks of drool hang from his twin mouths, as a jarring roar shakes the mountain!

Though I shiver at the sight, it is not from fear - I shiver in anticipation

Of the battle that is to come. My steel may rend his flesh and break his bones;

Or perhaps I shall be sent to glory - but it is useless to think about such things,

Especially whilst he stands before me! As his growls fill the mountain range -

So too shall he hear the roar of my oath! An oath of vengeance, sworn in blood:


-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st November 2012
Please take a moment to fave my work, it adds to my popularity ranking and really let's me know you've enjoyed my work ^^

If you'd like to hear me read poems and do a little comedy live then then check out episode 3 of my live show here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Arrr, before anyone tells me. YES, I know th' phrase at the end o' th' poem is incorrect. I had t' improvise. Why? The proper Norwegian translation for (For My Father) is:

"For min Far"

Now the Dutch translation is "Voor mijn Vader" (which is pronouced almost th' same way as is written in th' poem). Hence, in order fer people who don't speak either o' these languages t' understand the impact of what the barbarian is sayin' at the end before 'e meets his destiny, I combined both to create "For Min Fader", which sounds pretty good in my opinion ^^;

Anywho, the poem I wrote t'night is a shot-glass style poem, although slightly longer than normal, but it also combines an emotional element and fantasy element (two prominent choices in the polls).

For those who voted fer 'Sadistic darkness', ye'll get what ye need on Saturday, ye can BELIEVE me about that :3. "Sensual Torture" will be released then AND read Live ;3

As fer the beast he's facin', I call it a Sungril Hellhound, which will be featured in the collaborative "Monster Compendium" between me uncles and me, ye'll have t' wait till next year t' get proper news about it, but here's a quick snippet from the Hellhound:

"The Sungril Hellhound, unlike the rest of its kin, is unique because it dwells only in the Frozen North-lands or in extremely cold places. It is also well known for being the toughest and most vicious species of Hellhound, owing to the fact that it can cast both Ice and Fire aligned spells. Consequently, it is immune to both types and therefore ridiculously difficult for any adventurer to best. The only elements that can scratch its thick, magic resilient hide are the elements of Earth and Lightning. Unfortunately, both will do a pitiful amount of visible damage as the Hellhound is of the demon race and hence bears an incredible resistance to any sort of magic. Pray that your warriors are strong enough to cut its flesh with the sharpness of their weapons alone, or you might quickly find yourself dying a rather ignominious death..."

Hope ye enjoyed that little snippet and remember, ye can always look forward t' a Chen-style fantasy, because I'll be showin' ye a world ye ain't never seen before lads... (and lasses xD)

-Captain Chenbeard o' th' Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
This is Halloween!This is Halloween:

Boys and girls of every age
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

Come with me and you will see
The friends I've hung down from this tree...

This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Corpses scream in the dead of night!

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright.
It's our town, everybody scream!
In this town of Halloween...

I am the one hiding under your bed;
Licking your hand with a tongue so red and -

I am the one crawling up your stairs,
Thump-thump-drag, when no one's there...

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Hallo
There are Things Beneath the GardenThere Are Things Beneath the Garden:


There are things beneath the garden,
Which you really shouldn't see.

There are things beneath the garden,
That don't belong to me.

There are things beneath the garden,
Gone rotten blue and black.

There are things beneath the garden,
In a dripping gunny sack...


There are flowers in the garden,
Which you really shouldn't pull.

There are flowers in the garden,
That sit on top of wool.

There are flowers in the garden,
With a really rotten scent.

There are flowers in the garden,
Above bodies burnt and bent...


I love this little garden,
It's a special place to me.

I love this little g

He stands before the adoring crowd,
Basking in their cheers and standing ovation.
But he has already been dishonoured -
By means of his perverse innovation.

For none could know of the dark secret;
About the art that he claims to be his own.
It is naught but an illusion, smoke and mirrors -
A theft for which he must atone...

But this disgusting creature, this worthless abhuman;
So desperate for the glory which he sees upon the stage!
Will quietly don the skin of another;
An urge he must assuage...

Biting his nails, a cracked smile upon his lips, he whispers:
"No one will know, no one will find it and I am great..."

Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

Bringer of the Night:

Born from the kiss of a goddess
And drenched in the cauldron of lies.
He emerged as a being of entropy
Bearing the mark of flies...

His wings were made from crow-like feathers
Black as the dust of the night.
His fangs were laden with horrid infection
Made from the stone of blight.

A single bite, was poison enough
And soon they began to change...
The children loved by the lady in white
Soon they became deranged.

Powerful beings of might and magic
They soared through the moonlit sky!
They flew amongst the twinkling stars
But their gift was a burning lie...

Falling to the ground like choking insects
Crawling in the dirt with a painful thirst.
These creatures needed the taste of blood
And their friends would be the first.

Neighbours, comrades, it mattered not!
Survival become an instinctive drive.
To bite and feed was a natural feeling
And horror came when night arrived.

Men or women, children who slept;
Through windows and doors they would slither and creep.
Their fangs would pierce into softened necks
Drinking blood while their victims weep.

Slowly throughout the lands of men
This plague became a panic.
Cities and towns were quarantined
Whilst the churches were utterly manic.

Devotions rose and prophets emerged
Predicting the end of time.
But none would know of the deadly creature
Who committed the original crime...

"Aramus L'Khain, the Blood Fanged Father"

-Chen Yuan Wen, 31st March 2012

Arrr, most vampire poets like ta talk about the actual act of blood sucking or the killing and I'm sure yer pretty bored of that, so how about something about their origin. Just a peek at their early beginnings and a name ta stir ye interest ;3

-Captain Chenbeard the Pirate :iconcaptainjackplz:

P.S. I didn't want to write a generic poem about blood sucking and the usual =P


White Lily Girl - [link]
The Sanguinary Offering - [link]
The Legendary Thunder Wolf - [link]
The Traitorous Greyback - [link]
Eternal Life [Remix] - [link]
The Wolven Pride - [link]
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

I could speak of her in riddles,
in aged, anatomy textbook terminology-
but, I wont.

You see, I cuffed this angel to my bedpost.
I sank my teeth into feathers she wore like a cage
and asked if I was dreaming, because Love,
you're not holding me. If you only knew the you in my head,
every night--tearing with these heavenly fingers
at the cracks in my sanity- you would allow me this!

Her tongue tastes my tears; nails clawing, clawing, clawing-
she takes away my pain,
but she doesn't belong to me either.

"We are but wolves.
Tell me, what does my blood taste like?"
I've been missing a couple of weeks haven't I?

This girl keeps showing up in my dreams, again.
Writing her out.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

fell in love
with Pluto
while he was
still a planet;

she could only manage
to fall in love
with shooting stars
in the glare of your eyes.

what more could you truly ask
from a universe girl?
Another poem from my 'secrets series'.
The secret:

“I get by on infatuations with everything and everyone, falling in love with concepts and never people.”

More can be found here: [link]
Feel free to submit one!
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

You spend your nights
for Apollo’s robes.

You’re as hot
as New Orleans
in mid-July, and
as fierce
as her gumbo.

But, he is light-years
away and your fingers
ache with tired

a disaster in
your own
moon skin.

Even if it fucking hurts,
you can still taste
his heat on your tongue.

Gods be damned,
you’re a butterfly-
( even if mounted
to a bed. )

One day,
you will find yourself
and fly away.
Anonymous secret: "I whore around a lot, but for some reason sex is painful, physically and psychologically, but I don’t know why."

I don't like the word 'whore'. Even if you sleep with 12 different people in one night, and you enjoy that physical contact--good for you! I don't even think the word should exist. However, if sex is painful both physically and emotionally, please take a step back and think about what you are doing. Do you really want this?

More secrets can be found here:
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

Cousin of death, take me in
Let me rest, forgive this sin
I haven't lost it all, but I show pain
And soon I guess, I will walk in the rain

Oh cold winter, don't remind me
Of how, I couldn't see
Oh cold winters day, you're as cold as my heart
Remind me of the days, when it was warm

Cousin of death, comfort me
Make me believe, this isn't the best of me
Cousin of death, invite your friends
Cause agony and suffering, is better in the end

Death, I have been alive way to long
Your cousin, makes me wish that I was wrong
Cause I don't wanna wake up
So please, take me in your warm blankets
And don't let me open my eyes
Ever again
I accually like this a little O.o It's an old one that I just fixed a bit on O.o It was only three small verses in the start then I sat down with it and just, polished it I guess XD

People say that sleep is the cousin of death, and I heard the line: Sleep Is Just A Cousin Of Death in this song ( warning, it's screamo/deathcore ( people aruge about that all the time I swear ) Song ) : [link]
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

I want to live, I want to love
But there's only pain
I want to take, a leap of faith
But what can I gain?

I want to scream, I want to shout
I just want out
Please let it stop, my blood boils
I have a monster inside

At time's I'm close, I don't want to
Please don't leave me
The blade calls my name, I need a release
But I won't

I wonder, do I deserve this?
I'm tortured mentally
It's a surprise, that I'm still alive
And I guess I won't stop that

At least not yet

I'm hurt inside
and it just grows
Emotionally, this day has been a living hell, I feel my blood boiling, I feel that itching in my wrists, but I won't cut, it wont help a bit. I hope she reads this and my other stuff, so she can see how broken I'm.

I found the picture on this blog: [link]
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

They tell me that I should get over it
That I should be fine
But with broken wings
It's hard to fly
Broken wings are hard to heal, atleast when you always try to fly again, to get over what have happened :)

[link] Where I found the picture :D
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

Stars made of nightmares and skies made of fears
Hearts made of glass and a home built of tears
Cries made of silence and words made of knives
Dreams of the struggle to simply survive
Souls made of paper and minds made of flames
She is a piece of their loveliest game
No longer can she feel more than disgust
Even a rainbow does turn into dust…
go here [link] for the poem on my other account, which has the link to the original photo :)

Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

I tried.
I tried to save you,
But you kept falling.
You wanted to crash.
But I tried.

I tried.
I tried to protect you
But you kept escaping the shelter.
You wanted the disaster.
But I tried.

I tried.
I tried to keep us together.
But you kept running.
You wanted to leave me.
But I tried.

I tried.
I tried to do everything to please you.
But you didn't accept it.
You didn't notice it.
You didn't appreciate it.
You didn't love me for it.
You didn't even care.
You wanted it your way, more than you wanted me.

But I tried.
What? I dunno.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

Slide the blade across your wrist.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
I can't feel anything.
"A little."

Punch your own stomach.
Does it hurt yet?
Keep going.
"Why do you do that?"
The pain makes me feel alive.
"I don't know."

Keep staring.
"What's wrong with you?"
I'm dead inside.

"Emotional freak."
I'm just depressed.

Stare at your arms.
Your stomach.
Your waist.
Your thighs.
"What are you doing?"
I'm ugly.
"Never mind."

"Attention seeker."
I just have low self esteem.
"I'm sorry."


"Scene girl."

I'm just human.

I'm just me.
reposting an old poem of mine. posted it a while back and decided to do it again, this time with over 100 more watchers. :)
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

so i want to grow up and get a job and make happy, make money, make forget. i can't though, i'm too concerned with windchimes. i mean, fuck windchimes, right? i lie awake at night and listen to rigs on the rumble strip and the windchimes, (mostly the trucks), but damn, the tinkling is enough to keep me awake all night. but sometimes not, and then i dream i drown or maybe i marry a serial killer who props up corpses in rocking chairs or sometimes i dream about my ex-boyfriend's little sister because why not. then i wake up and it's taxes and credit cards and grades and people dying and shit.

and windchimes.

i don't know what is wrong with me.

i mean i do, though, it's called obsessive compulsive disorder and major depressive disorder and severe anxiety and a bunch of other shit that takes too long to detail, but i'm talking about the pieces insurance won't cover.

also fuck claire danes.

it's just like, when i close the door behind me i push on the doorknob six times plus seven plus seven, because shutting the door counts as one and then we're at three sevens. odd numbers.

people watch me do it and say "don't."
"i have to."
"no you don't."

i don't have to be sick but i am.

i don't have to watch romeo and juliet but i do. see, when shit got rough for juliet she made out with her dead boyfriend and then stabbed herself, but me? i just throw rocks and calculate my GPA. we all cope, and by "we" i mean everyone but me.

they say once in your lifetime someone comes along who you are absolutely meant to be with. like john cusack or some guy down the road or the person you're dating, if you're lucky. and they probably won't have obsessive compulsive disorder but they might, and maybe they will tell you that you don't HAVE to push on the doorknob twenty-one times, but you will. and it will be alright.

maybe you get it all wrong.

i got a lot of it wrong. choices, i mean. free will and shit. it'll fuck you up.
you'll choose lonely, throwing rocks at walls seven times and wondering why you have to pay people to teach you to be normal.

i hate windchimes, i do. and fucking claire danes.

i mean, i was babysitting this little girl the other day and she said, "do you know that disease that makes people have to finish things?" and my first thought was no, but why don't i have it? it would come in useful for writing essays.

only it turns out that she was referring to obsessive compulsive disorder and i said "yeah, i know it. i have it." she just looked at me all cockeyed and asked what it made me do. "count things, i guess. like the number of times my boyfriend's chest rises and falls and how long i can hold my breath. and i flick light switches or whatever." she looks at me like she almost understands and then is all, "so you know you have it? you know you do weird things? why don't you just stop?"

and the windchimes tinkled all dramatically.

i think someday i might run away. the crosswalks tell me to wait, wait, wait. i am not crazy, they are engineered to speak to people with mechanical voices. i was engineered to count things and throw up. i wonder what it would be like if i threw up all of my insides--better, maybe. worse, maybe. maybe, maybe.

i am so tired. if you offered me the chance to do this again, i'd pick no lonely and more pine trees.
shamelessly imitating him and uploading text files that rot inside my computer.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

leave the lights on.


(sorry for all of the instagram poetry. this is the first one i wrote and will likely be the last one i post to deviantart for a good long while, because i am capable of other things.)
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.


"i am going to make every person
around me as happy as i can,"
i bravely declare.

"you should get a job," you offer,
and i draw a heart on a whiskey
bottle and say that making people
happy is my new job.

"you should get a paying job,"
you clarify, and i fill the whiskey
bottle with glitter and kiss you
until it doesn't matter anymore.

you don't need money if you're


i tell you that i'm going to leave
because even if it hurts now, it will
eventually make you happy, and
you refuse to speak to me for
the rest of the night.

and here i thought i had
all of the answers.


you joke about going to med school
just so you can keep me alive forever.

i joke about doing some nice deeds
so people will write kind things about
me in my obituary.

neither of us think the other
is particularly funny.


you roll over in bed and whisper,
"did you mean what you said, kel?
about making people happy?"

i pretend to be asleep so that
i don't have to tell you that the only
people that i want to make happy
are the ones i don't care about.

so that way i won't feel as
bad when i fail.
my job is: passing out in armchairs with one sock on.
my job is: writing bullshit papers and studying planetary motion.
my job is: staying alive and staying away from people i love.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

The beautiful cover pick was done by :iconnajato:~Najato This piece was originally supposed to be "Paper Plane Hearts" but I decided to combine the theme with my new username. Bit long but not as long as my other new piece. Hope everyone enjoys.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

I'm sorry
I'm sure you want 
that to mean alot of things
but in truth it means one
hurtful truth.
I'm sorry I never loved you
not in the way 
you would've wanted me to 
not in the way you needed me to,
I'm sorry I loved the ideal 
of you and me
the wonderful beauty that
be birthed from our attractions
more than I loved the person
within that fantasy.
I'm sorry I forced
the delusion of perfection
upon you and held 
you to those 
improbable expectations
of my selfish imagination.
I'm sorry that I placed
the necessity of us
above the desires of you.
I'm sorry 
that I wasn't the guy you deserved
and that I wasted my few chances
with someone as wonderful as you.
I'm sorry I never loved you
till you were already gone.
self explanatory.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

I was looking at slightly yuri adventure time pictures while listening to couple rappers i love (Childish Gambino/ Macklemore) , who were talking about how homosexuality is prejudiced against so i put myself in their place and wrote a poem about it. The awesome photo was done by ~mnsphoto . I would like to say that i'm not sure if this is truly how a person in their position feels, especially since some feel the need to hide themselves, but i'm an oddly stupid/courageous person and I say i would never change and whoever doesn't like it can fuck off. <img src="[link]" width="15" height="15" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)"/> Hope everyone enjoys
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

"Little Kisses"

updating a piece originally done last year.... wanted to make the text more visible on the poem...

and my own resources for background (both purchased and my own)
created in cs5

mixed media - paint with photos

befriend me on Facebook

Haiku by me

sweet little kisses
with a tender innocence
only you possess

print available without text on larger sizes..
smaller greeting card sizes will have text

© ([link])

recent work
Flutterby Child
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

a gift from my "Pay it Forward Project" for :iconlalita17: -- read my journal for details

Haiku by me

a time for wishes
and for dreams that can come true
it’s that time of year

for Christmas


(i will probably do one or two more from the bunch as they come in)

Recent work
"Rain of Roses"
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

one from my old account -- uploading here

haiku by me

stock by

Now a book cover for Maria Hooley



My Newest Work

Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

Footsteps resound on small cobbled streets,

and large paved roads

and grand halls with floors of marble.

Like a piano, I am your accompaniment. 


Heartstrings cry like violins

pleading to the heavens and you,

the sound reflecting off the silvery moon

and left painfully hanging in the ether. 


I will follow

Tread no farther. 

to the ends of the earth

Our world has ended.

until there is nothing left of me. 

There is nothing left of me. 


Come home, love. 

Dust and memories

Come home, love. 

of your arms 

Come home, love

are where my home lies, now. 


The shiver in your voice belies your words. 

We do not belong here under these foreign stars,

and this is not our nocturne. 

Remember the song we used to sing. 


Your love kills me by degrees;

this ache mourns lost time and possibilities. 

So weary, I surrender to the night, 

our song, my love, and you.


Ever closer…

Take my wings.

You remember. 

Every note. 

Now we are closer

than I dared to dream before.


With shared thread let us knit our torn seams and fraying hems.

Now that I have you I am no longer want and shadow piano footfalls,

and you are no longer a violin with heartstrings near to breaking;

this nocturne melts away into the night (into your arms.)


We sing our song – 

You are mine (You are mine)

and I am yours (and I am yours.)


Inspired by Nocturne No. 20 in C-sharp minor, Op. posth. (or Nocturne for Violin and Piano) composed by Frédéric Chopin.

[link] - Click here to listen here to the beautiful and emotionally powerful Nocturne.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

A poet is a liar with a silver tongue pen, and a bleeding heart on the other end.

We are anagrams and metaphors and sphinxes in sheep skin.

Every letter is an actor that we send into the wind,

And we're only as good as the words you believe in.
Don't believe a truth I'm saying. (would I lie to you?)
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

While Selene was out cavorting, at play with her trysts,
In a mountain cave was hidden her abandoned lover.
All he could do was wait, she tarried no more in his midst
In preference of another, and another other.

Dark from Phoebus' sun lay languishing Endymion,
Lifetimes dreaming, suddenly wakened by a kiss of love
From the sweet cherry red lips of a young golden maiden,
Warmly smiling, seemingly shining, at him from above.

Bewildered by her beauty and goodness shown so purely
To a stranger she gave life to who was sleeping in death.
Her eyes were blue pools, calm, deep, she was no mortal surely.
She was like Spring, so alive! And she took away his breath.

He carried his fair savior out where the morning star
Heralded the dawn and she stared at him in wonderment:
A god-like prince and shepherd, she had loved him from afar,
Since she had discovered him all was pain and merriment.

To her voice nor touch would he respond in his spellbound sleep.
She had cried one thousand tears for the fate that might be theirs
If Love's mighty powers could raise him clear-eyed from the deep,
And on her throne of roses Aphrodite heard her prayer.

He kissed her cherry lips to make sure he was not dreaming,
Then twirled her 'round in his arms she thought were Herculean.
The goddess of love watched from above, satisfied, smiling
At how brightly they glowed, the nymph and her Endymion.
My twist on the Greek myth of Endymion and Selene.

Endymion was loved by Selene, the goddess of the moon, who visited him every night while he lay asleep in a cave on Mount Latmus in Caria; she bore him 50 daughters. A common form of the myth represents Endymion as having been put to sleep by Selene herself so that she might enjoy his beauty undisturbed.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

there are things
living in me
that bring the floor
to my knees-
powers like concrete
and steel,
fierce infrastructure
of my bones
filled with something
like fire,
or smoke.

i have been
holding my breath
for so long
that i am scared
to let my body
or give vessels,
these things
living in me,
the means to
become something
when i

i pray to god,
a being unseen,
that i will
kill off these things
living inside me;
all i manage
to do
is kill off
7th january 2012
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

you are not the only one
to walk like there are
skeletons underfoot,
who looks both ways
before crossing the road
because you
"knew a girl who";

you are alive
and you will experience
hurt, and you will
be so thankful
for every painful breath you take
because it's better than when
everything goes quiet
and all you feel is exhaustion.

there is more than just
one cold snap
before you enter
the winter of your life.
there are spells
of sadness and rage,
hate and denial
of all that you know
and all that you deserve;

and you are not the only one
to fight for everyday you are here,
alive and breathing
and striving to thrive
on such an unforgiving planet,
in such a world
that births emotional deserts
in its people;

you are not the only one
who hurts--
be gentle.
--maza dohta
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

i believe in love like some believe in god,
bending over backwards, cause
finally you found something
that will keep you from dying,

finally you found something
that gives you hope,
a home in a war zone,
a sanctuary for sanity,

finally you found your heart,
lost in that hollow body of yours,
always too afraid to excavate
its caves on your own,
always afraid of the monsters
you'll find in its corners,

you were always hiding from things that might have been.

and when you finally opened your eyes,
there was love at your feet,
waiting to be made.
don't worry, i am falling in like at most. my heart is safe with me.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

My heart beats as it should
As it always has.
I grow and learn everyday
As I always have.
I breathe in, I breathe out
And take in the atmosphere.
But the second you hypnotize me,
Entrance me with those eyes,
I forget everything I knew
My heart skips a beat,
Lost in the thunder of your laughter.
My vocabulary dissapates,
My tongue ties in knots.
It's the most terrifying feeling in existence.
The feeling of falling and floating.
Yet your presence eliminates this,
Fills me with wonder and belief.
You're my religion, my logic.
My stability, my anarchy.
Everything I could ask for
In every breath you take.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

When I die, paint my lips cherry red.
Paint a curl in the corners
So it looks like I am smiling.
Be sure to seal my eyelids tight
And hide my bloodshot eyes.
Even if they were open
I doubt you'd see the pain.
Be careful that my eyes
No longer look red and puffy
From all those tears I never cried.
Dress me to impress
Because that's what you all expect.
Cover my arms carefully
To hide fresh lacerations.
Don't tell them it was my own fault
It gives you a bad reputation.
Tell them that I was happy
And loved all I had.
Feed them your lies.
They'll eat them gluttonously.
Play all those love songs
You wished I would love.
Pretend that it was a surprise
That I'd want to leave this earth.
Bury me in the moonlight
So no one can see the flaws.
Both in my casket and me.
Give me red and white roses
To keep me pure and traditional.
At least enough for everyone to believe.
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.

Did anyone hear me cry out
"Please don't leave me a alone today."
Did anyone bother to listen
Or did they just walk away?
Had anyone notcied
That no one noticed me?
Or was it all intentional
That you just let me be?
Nobody cared at all
About the sad girl who cried.
You all just sat and stared
As I slowly rotted inside.
And as I begged for help
No one would shed a tear
While they all observed me
As I collapsed in fear.
After it was all said and done
No one said a word.
As I let out a cry of pain
My voice was never heard
Add a Comment:
No comments have been added yet.