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Daddy, please don't touch me.
It doesn't feel good.
It makes me feel..
Naughty.

Daddy, please don't hit me.
I didn't mean to disappoint you.
When you hit me, it makes me feel...
Bad.

Daddy, please don't hurt her.
Mommy didn't do anything.
When you hit her, it makes me feel..
Mad.

Daddy, please don't say you love me.
I know you're lying.
When you say you still want me, it makes me feel...
Sad.

Daddy, please stop screaming at her.
You already killed her.
When you scream at her, it makes me feel..
Angry.

Daddy, stay there.
Let me sink the knife into your throat.
When you bleed, it makes me feel..
Alive.

Daddy, aren't you happy now?
As you lie there, lifeless.
I'm only following your footsteps.
This makes me feel...
Happy.

Daddy, please listen.
I know you can't hear me, but...
I still love you.

The same way you always loved me.

And it makes me feel...

Good, Daddy.
It makes me feel..
Good.
I don't really like this one. But I decided to post it since it's one of my poems that ISN'T about labels or stereotypes =P
Comments and critiques?
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The sun melted into the glamorous sky
The moon stood there, hidden by sweet lullabies.

But mommy was crying, her day had been hard
The tears in her eyes twinkled just like the stars.

Her face wasn't happy like it should have been
And though she was saddened, she forcefully grinned.

I wanted to see Mommy smile through it all...
I painted a picture on her bedroom walls.

I told her to look, just to come in and see
But Mommy was angry... she wasn't happy.

She threw me down hard on the cold wooden floor
Then picked me up, slamming my head on the door.

She yelled and she screamed, then she hit me once more
She slapped me till I couldn't see anymore.

My heart then stopped beating, my laugh went unheard
Then Mommy got up without saying a word.

She looked at the walls splattered with my young blood
Then fell to the ground in her tears with a thud.

She looked at my face, then she looked all around
Then wrote on the walls with the first thing she found.

Then, after she finished, she wanted self harm....
She sat on the ground, putting me in her arms.

She reached for the knife she had placed on her bed
Then stabbed her own body... she cried as she bled.

The words on the wall echoed throughout the room...
"I love you so much, Mommy... get better soon!"
An older poem that i wrote :)
Comments and critiques? <3
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The face at the door is a demon, a god
He smiles through stitches, his stare rather odd
The face at the door is a cruel, silent being
Yet, people are calm, and the children aren't fleeing
Quiet yourself, for you're the only one
Crying for help at the point of a gun
Learn how to fly, rather, learn how to fall,
The face at the door... well... there's no face at all.
About a hallucination I had.
Thanks for reading... comments and critiques? <3
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Tired, Exhausted, Drained:

I am bloody exhausted! Drained to the core of my soul.

I wake up every morning with bags; burning ever deeper into my eyes.

Sunken masses of flesh, reminding me that the dreamscape -

One in which I sought refuge; is now buried where it lies.

Yet still I force myself to trudge through this wilderness.

Forever caught in a moon drenched, delusory twilight.

An endless cycle of failure and renewed hope;

Giving rise to the very stubbornness that defines me.


-Chen Yuan Wen, 5th February 2013
Alright mates,

Me journey ended officially yesterday, but now it's time to bring on the FIRE. This is my latest work ^^ It's a shot-glass poem, a style which I developed to cater to people who don't want to spend ages reading long works but still want to get the emotional feeling. It's the middle ground between haiku's and the longer pieces that I'm used to writing.

This one is particular is from my upcoming book '50 Little Glasses'. I hope you'll all look forward to it, it's going to be a neat little poetry e-book that you can buy for a reasonable price (and no you won't need an e-reader to read it)

The concept behind this poem is simple: We're all tired and exhausted after going through each day. Sometimes you just want to give in. Some people have fantastic reasons for not giving in, but me personally; I'm just a stubborn bastard.

-Captain Chen of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

If you like my work and want to support me. Come buy my e-book for $1.99. I promise an epic fantasy you won't forget:



Want to stalk me? Here are some cool links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Want to sell your soul to me? Join up with my pirate crew:

:iconblack-fedora-pirates:
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The Flower of Evil:

Evil is but a blooming flower,
Alluring, captivating.
It is born from a humble seed
And grows to corrupt a forest.

To watch its infection spread;
To be a part of its existence...
I can think of no better prospect,
Can you?

Indeed one might baulk at the idea,
Of seeing millions suffer.
To watch worlds scream and writhe;
To see them suffer and die, with living eyes...

Yet there is a mysterious beauty in such devastation,
Fear that shakes me to my very core;
Is transfigured into a twisted pleasure:
As I am frightened, so too am I aroused.

I am addicted to the ephemeral sensation;
To the borderline between rapture and rupture.
To see my own blood soaking from splitting wounds;
Leaves me maddened amongst these blooming flowers

-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st May 2013
Alright, so as always the Captain is extremely busy, but with quite a lot of pestering, and some snacks, I managed to squeeze this poem out of him. I find it to be quite chilling, and excellently written, and I hope you all agree!

Also, when he sent me this he made a comment; "1st of May is Madness Day"

I'm not sure what this means, so I hope you guys could explain? xD

-Co-Captain Bunny Hayes
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These Words Aren't Pretty:

My verses are ugly and I admit to the fact
I can't use pretty language when I'm working with rap
Because the things that I write, are just the things that I feel
I ain't an Edgar Allan Poe or a Danielle Steel

And I'll be honest with you, I've got an envy inside
Because some poets got a flow that's as smooth as the tide
I read some stuff that they write, it's just so dope I ignite
Burning shame and my anger at the beautiful sight

And like birds of a feather, they're flocking together
These poets are the Gods and I'm nailed by the weather
But as the rain pours down, lightning resound;
I try to write pretty words but my lips remain bound

So deeply silenced by fear - the darkness I hear,
Afraid to be unloved by the ones I hold dear
I've hit the limit of time; my lyrical crime
These words that I've lived are just turning to grime.

So I wish I had their talent; just a sliver of that
If their skill was a mountain then I've broken my back
It's like the city of Gotham, where my poetry bleeds
I'm just the poet they've got, but not the one they need...


-Chen Yuan Wen, 21st January 2013
Aye maties,

After a long break, I be back. Honestly the recent stress has left me unable to write and during those days I'd see all the other poets writing beautiful things and I'd feel envious.

I tried to imitate it and failed, but that's when I realised that I should do what I'm good at, because the difference in my style is what makes it unique. In addition to being a horror and fantasy poet, I am (probably more than anything) an urban poet.

What I write is what is real and the streets will always be a part of me and my work. Thankfully though, I don't walk them with a cigarette in my mouth anymore.

-Captain Chen of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

If you like my work and want to support me. Come buy my e-book for $1.99. I promise an epic fantasy you won't forget:



Want to stalk me? Here are some cool links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Want to sell your soul to me? Join up with my pirate crew:

:iconblack-fedora-pirates:
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My mind
just can't
seem to

s h u t   u p.

Too many "fuck you's"
that morph into
"I'm sorry's"
drip off this
dagger-tongue
like acid.

Monster.
Grotesque.
Liar.
Erratic.

Try and make it better. Fail. Try again. Break down.

So many faults
that seem to just
turn me into someone
I'm not.

Look into the mirror. See nothing but a clone. Fabrication. No longer me.

I stare and want
to break that glass
so that I can also
b r e a k.

Try and say something. Turns into nothing but rage. Take it out on you.

This shattered heart
only wants to make it
better
and become one again.

"I want to hate you."
"But I can't."
"So I hate me instead."
"But why won't this stop?"
"Why can't you make it stop?"


Stop.

Breathe.

Think.

"...it's not my fault."

Say what you want to say. Honest brutality.

"H E L P   M E"

No.

It's time for me to

s h u t   u p.

—whisper—



...I'm sorry.
...I'm sorry.
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Her ink-stained lips have kissed too many a forgotten page,

                    [dragon's blood
                                  and phoenix down]


And her Prince Charming has yet to come,

                    [glass slippers
                                   shattering like stars]


So all she can do is gaze out her tower window,

                    [enchanted forests
                                   concealing poisoned apples]


Clutch that corroded and timeworn blade,

                    [cursed beasts
                                   tearing down castle walls]


Toss her childhood fables to the waltzing of the moon,

                    [even broken wings
                                   wish for happily ever afters]


And fly.

                    [once upon a time
                                   there was a girl who became her own hero.]
Just a random ditty that popped in my head.

I quite like how it turned out.

Maybe someday I'll get the courage to be my own hero, too.

Wouldn't it be grand if fairytales could happen like this?

Edit: ...front page for this dumb thing? Thank you very much, but...I don't understand why.
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Mommy, Daddy, are you okay?
You haven't talked at all today.
Mommy, Daddy, can't you see?
You're really starting to hurt me.

All you do is scream and fight,
and I hear it all throughout the night.
Sometimes I think my eyes will run dry,
yet whenever I do, I just continue to cry.

"She doesn't care about any of this, she'll be fine by tomorrow!"
Daddy, you don't know how much your words fill me with sorrow.
"Can't you just be civilized?! Stop acting like a child, and apologize right now!"
Mommy, please don't make this worse, or I'll run outside and hide in the snow.

Mommy, Daddy, I wish you would just stop everything and be happy again.
I'm hiding under the blankets, writing these words down with a pen.
Mommy, Daddy, can't you see?
You're tearing my heart into one, two, three.

A piece for each of us, a piece of my heart,
the beating has stopped before it could start.
Two sections I wish I could install into both of you,
yet I'm afraid I have not yet found the proper glue.

"It isn't your fault, so don't let his words get to you."
I know, Mommy; they're not supposed to be true.
"In these moments, he just directs his anger at anything in his sight."
Daddy, please stop this man that isn't you; it's giving me a fright.

Mommy, Daddy, I want to help you both so much...
But all I can do is use my pillows as a protective crutch.
Mommy, Daddy, when was the last time you both kissed?
Don't you realize...that your love is greatly missed?
I know it's taboo to write stuff talking about your feelings and putting them on dA.

But you know what?

Last night was hell for me, and I'm going to vent.

Just because I'm as old as I am doesn't mean these fights will not affect me.

As long as I'm there to hear them, they always will.

Edit: ...my God. This made the front page.

And so many people are commenting with such amazing, inspirational, and amiable things.

Thank you. So much. To everyone.

I hope if anyone else is going through this as well, that you find luck in your situation.

:heart:
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"I'm fine" is a dirty lie.

The truth is that I want to die.

 

"I'm tired" is not even done.

It really means "I'm tired of being no one"

 

"I'm better" is but a curse.

The truth is that I've never been worse

 

"I'm just cold" is what I say

so my sleeves can hide my scars away.

 

"I already ate" is said with a frown.

I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down.

 

"I'm okay" is probably the worst.

It really means I'm about to burst.

 

All these things are lies to me.

But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?

 

 

Well... this is another poem for my feels about depression, self harm, etc. I know that there are many poems and drawings on DA to support people with depression and bring awareness, and mine will not help, but i just feel so strongly about it since ive had a friend confess his depression to me. so heres another one :) to all those peopel struggling out there, you are not alone and i think your awesome <3
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Oh, so you're not thin?

Tell me how you're ugly.

Oh, so your hair doesn't look good everyday?

Tell me whose does.

Oh, so you make mistakes?

Tell me who doesn't.

Oh, so you're not a model?

Tell me what the definition of beauty is.

Oh, so you aren't normal?

Tell me what "normal" is.

Oh, so you aren't good enough?

Tell me why.

You can't.

Because there isn't a standard you need to reach to be yourself.

 

 

this is another inspirational poem thing for my feels about bullying, helf harm, depression, etc. It was kind of sparked bny my friend and his confession of his feelings. I want to spread the word around that it is a bigger problem that you may think. People actually this about themselves and others take it as something attention-whores do. People actually think of themselves as worthless and it breaks my heart </3 so any support would be great. it could save someone :)
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You can't tell me
that my writing is wrong.
It might be for you
But for me it will live, forever strong
 
You can't tell me
that my words are not right.
They might not be prefect
But I'll still put up a fight
 
You can't tell me
my rhymes are too mix-matched.
Its just because they are not yours
To me they do not lack
 
You can't tell me
I did not try my best.
Who are you to evaluate?
Its not like its a test
 
You can't tell me
that I didn't follow a rule.
Creativity has no list
I think you are a fool
 
You can't tell me
that I didn't emote at all.
How can you tell me what I feel?
Its not like I'm a doll
 
You cant tell me
everything that I should.
How can you think you know everything?
And think you know whats "good"?
 
 
well my LA teacher is kinda pissing me off at the moment. nothing i ever write for her is right.
you have to follow her rules EXACTLY and u get a good mark. all the mainstream kids get by but creativity is almost completely ignored, and i think thats what poetry is all about. being creative with words, being emtotional, being true and yourself. and i get punished for this with grades that i do not deserve. Of course, yes maybe im over reacting, and yes teachers are there to do their job but i feel just so frusterated >:[ so to you now, oh great and powerful LA teacher, i bid you thanks for inspiration. sorry if this rubs people the wrong way but GAHHHHHHHHH
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Rose blood
on her tongue
reminds her of yesterday's.
Lonely bones.
A heart's hoarded secrets,
love me pretties, &
scarlet letter dreams.
But
do these boys know
of the bitter winter
churning,
like a blizzard
in her veins?
The sharp edges
of half-empty
kisses,
or the crisscross
folding
of origami limbs?

Her eyes,
as deep &
unfeeling
as the ocean;
.
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my body is a road map
of hazard signs
& do-not-touch-me's.

but on the days
when the mirror
is nice to me,
i can hear
whispering voices
like little racing
heartbeats
beneath my skin:

you are not worthless.
you are strong.
your ribcage has a meaning-

these bruises are
con            ons,
   ste     ti       & you are the Milky Way.
        lla  

-dp
Secret:

“Sometimes I like the voices in my head more than myself.”

More can be found here: [link]

Feel free to submit one here: [link] , or here: [link]

Featured: [link]
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There are ghosts in my bloodstream
kissing concrete cells &
the bedroom eyes of nerve endings.

( foreign words
engraved into my marrow, birds in my chest
& wars not yet fought between my hips. )

I've taken myself apart every night
since I learned how to swallow a pen
without gagging;
limb by steady limb.

Passed around by grabby hands,
a sold, & borrowed daughter;

I am a lion among sheep,
drunk on life & ink.
Clearly I didn't get these words from my mother.
I'm adopted.

Featured: [link] [link]
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I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?

Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.

A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
I’ll still be
A missing
Piece.
I wish I could explain what had me writing this, but the feeling has left me and embedded itself in the words. I hope that they're a good enough explanation.
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Do you fear your own death?
Is it hard to conceive?
Draw in your last breath, then-
Your last breath will leave.

Isn't it strange to think,
That there's a timer above your head?
A countdown you can't see,
That finishes when you're dead.

Don't you ever wonder,
What it'll be like when you're gone?
I bet the world will keep on spinning.
There will be another dawn.

But the harsh reality behind it-
We're all going to die.
There's no reason to try to fight it
Not even to question why.

It makes me wish that I could have a little more to give,
Because I'm not afraid of how I'll die...

I'm afraid of how I'll
Live...
The one certain thing about everybodies life is that we will all eventually reach death. And death can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people. The important thing is to make sure that when death arrives, we feel as though we've accomplished everything that we were meant to do with our time on this wonderful green/blue, life sustaining planet of ours.

I just hope that I'll be that ready
Whenever my time actually -does- come...

And I hope that you will be too.
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I hate that there will always be
A lingering regret
An ache set so deep inside me
I cannot forget

I turned away as my thoughts strayed
“What chances have I missed?”
I don’t want one more regret
To add among the list

I need to know what could’ve been
What could become of this
I’ll take my chances, no regrets
For just one kiss…

Between what I feel and I say
Is what I don’t understand
You say it’s better this way
This is not what I had planned

I watched as you just walked away
“What chances have I missed?”
I’ll add just one more regret
To the top of the list

I need to know if you can see
There was something more to this
I’ll take my chances, no regrets
For just one kiss…

To taste your kiss…


Just one kiss…
Is that too much to ask..?
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Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com

You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to DeviantArtSecret.

Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession or childhood humiliation.

Reveal anything – as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

For help or assistance, visit the INTERNATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION WIKI.

Before you send your secrets in, please read the GROUP RULES.

For a list of stock accounts, please read the shout-board on our main page.
For more information on the group, please read our journals.



Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com


Submitted by - DAS Helper 3
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Artist Comment: "I don't think the media influences me as much as it does other people and I would also like to make it clear that the only person's appearance I care about is my own."

Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com

You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to DeviantArtSecret.

Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession or childhood humiliation.
Reveal anything – as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

For help or assistance, visit the INTERNATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION WIKI.

Before you send your secrets in, please read the GROUP RULES.

For a list of stock accounts, please read the shout-board on our main page.
For more information on the group, please read our journals.


Submitted by - DAS Helper 7

Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com
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Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com

You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to DeviantArtSecret.

Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession or childhood humiliation.
Reveal anything – as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

For help or assistance, visit the INTERNATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION WIKI.

Before you send your secrets in, please read the GROUP RULES.

For a list of stock accounts, please read the shout-board on our main page.
For more information on the group, please read our journals.


Submitted by - DAS Helper 7

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I want to fly away,
up, in the sky.
down, back to earth.
I want
I want to go.
Away, anywhere, nowhere, somewhere.
Just go,
Leave, let go, live.
I want to fly away,
somewhere I can stay.
My thoughts at this moment
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Tell me it's just a phase
not knowing who I am
But it's been much more than days
and I still don't understand

I feel like I am wrong
I never do it right
Oh I'm really not that strong
I don't think I'll win the fight.

Build a wall, standing tall
can't you hear my call

Pieces of my heart breaking down down down
Everytime the world is spinning round round round
Can anybody see
The pain inside of me
Or do you all enjoy just watching me bleed

The wall I'm building high
it's raising everytime
everytime I want to cry
when you make me hurt inside

Build a wall, standing tall
can't you hear my call

Pieces of my heart breaking down down down
Everytime the world is spinning round round round
Can anybody see
The pain inside of me
Or do you all enjoy just watching me bleed

Stop making me feel like this
stop making me feel so low
is it so hard to miss
really don't you know?
I'm this because of you
and even though you knew
there's nothing I can do

Build a wall, standing tall
can't you hear my call

Pieces of my heart breaking down down down
Everytime the world is spinning round round round
Can anybody see
The pain inside of me
Or do you all enjoy just watching me bleed
Just wrote this, it's rough, but tell me what you think
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It’s like people move around me in waves
And I’m in the middle of the ocean
Drowning
but not because of them
Because of everything in my head
Everything up there that’s just slowly moving through me
Until it reaches my heart
And then it just settles there
With no plans to move out or shut up
Just screaming at me
With an utter silence, deafening my feelings
And I know that it’s happening
I am aware
But I can’t do anything
And no one else cares
Because nobody is there
I've never written something like this before.
I guess it's free verse. Let me know what you think. It's just random thoughts.
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