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

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Submitted by - DAS Helper 7

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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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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

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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“Why do you cut, dear?”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
Of course it does –
It hurts more than I’m worth

“Why do you cut, dear?”
“Aren’t you ashamed?”
Of course I’m embarrassed,
But I’m used to the blame.

“Why do you cut, dear?”
“Why don’t you stop?”
Can you stop a dead body
From starting to rot?

Because, darling, you see,
I’m not even here.
I’m only a corpse
With no hope, and no fear.

“Why do you cut dear?”
Well, don’t you see?
There’s a pain inside
So deep within me

And it’s coming to the surface
But no one understands
So I put that pain
Inside my hands.

And I lay it out
For all to see
On wrists so red
And forearms that bleed.

“Why do you cut, dear?”
“It’s ugly, you know.”

Ha.
“ugly” is exactly
What this is meant
To show.
Cutting is not a beautiful thing. But the beauty of the person underneath is hardly measurable.
Be careful what you say -- it could save or destroy a life.

Facebook : www.facebook.com/pages/Mikki-M…
Message me on facebook or note me if you'er having a terrible day :)
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Silly girl,
Whose eyes rain crystals,
Why do you wish to heal?
Do you not understand the beauty
Of your ability to feel?

Silly girl,
Whose grin’s so bright,
Why do you wish to change?
A soul with no emotion
Would appear to be quite strange.

Silly girl,
Whose face is dull,
Why do you live this myth?
You choose to be a shadow,
Smashing daisies with your fist.

Silly girl,
With wounds and scars,
Why have you chosen this death?
No, sinking into your own grave
Would be better than such regret.

Silly girl,
You’ve started to feel,
Just recently you’ve started to cry.
You’ve been down this path again and again,
With a pain you’re designed to deny.

Silly girl,
Whose eyes rain crystals,
Why do you wish to heal?
Do you not remember the torture
Of being unable to feel?
So yes, I finally wrote something again. And I'd love your opinion :) Comments are appreciated ^.^

If any of you are going through something similar, don't hesitate to note me :) I'm always here to listen.

You can also reach me through my facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Mikki-M…

Love you all :heart:


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Waters of the ocean beating up against the shore
Birds as free as dreams leaving me lifeless on the floor
Shattered, broken glass among the shadows of the ground
Voices spinning, spiraling without a single sound
Shining liquid sunsets falling slowly to the earth
Skies made out of platinum and lies of lost self-worth
Troubles drowning hearts and worries drenching hopeless minds
Piercing cries reminding us of all we've left behind

Tears made out of mirrors, windows from abandoned dreams
Sunlight made of darkness, laughter made from unheard screams
Homes built from the hatred that was once inside their souls
Forests made of suicide, from when they lost control
Midnight is the silence that we longed to hear once more
Though I fight the battles, I refuse to fight the war
Unkept silver clocks hang noiselessly upon the wall
Hear the silent footsteps of the lovely broken doll
Whispers of the roses grasp the things we'll never know
Fear the twisted, darkened memories of long ago

Words made out of bullets, glares made out of bleeding knives
Deaths made from the struggles just to keep our very lives
Wounds made from the fear of going through such tragic pain
Tears fly upwards toward the sky along with sparkling rain

I don't fear the monster hiding underneath my bed
For now I know that monster has been living in my head...
comments?
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Crystal drops of water resting sweetly in her eyes
Take her hand and hold her, wipe away her very cries
Take her through a forest lying deep within her mind
Shining gowns and silver crowns to which she once was blind

Take her through a meadow with the sparkling light blue skies
Wash away her guilt and say hello to the goodbyes
Quick, before she melts away, do take her hand and show
Everything she really never truly got to know

Quick, before she disappears, before she never sees
All that things could soon become and all that things could be
Take her shaking hands and hold them softly inside yours
Show her what was once a wall can turn into a door

Quick, before she vanishes, do show her all ahead
Look into those diamond eyes and speak the words so dead
All she needs to know is that, no matter what could be
Nothing is more powerful than the words "you and me"...
My attempt at a sort of sweet poem O_O
love me?

COMMENTS?! :D
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Smile.
Laugh.
Run
Faster.
Faster.
Stop.

"What are you doing?"
Trying to escape.
"Nothing."

Look behind you.
Are they there?
Shh.

Shut up.

Don't.
Say.
Anything.

"What's wrong?"
You'll never understand it.
"Never mind."

Scream.
Scream louder.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your ears.

"Calm down."
I can't.
"I'm sorry."

They want you to die.
They're out for you.
Shut the door.
Lock it.
Unlock it.
Lock it again.
Hide.
Shh.

"Are you okay?"
I'm dying.
"I'm fine."

You'll never make it.
Freeze.
Fall to the ground.
Cry.
Cry harder.

Stop.

"What are you doing?"
Dying.
"What are you going through?"
Torture.
"What's wrong with you?"
Everything.

... "I don't know."
I have something close to schizophrenia, but not quite.
I just decided to title it something different than my last poem, about Bipolar xD

Thanks for reading, comment maybe? :)
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Writing
:iconmatteroftheheart:
Collection by
I am the shadow, and I am the light
I am the sunlight, and I am the night
I am the battle, and I am the fighter
I am the water, and I am the fire
I am a raindrop just ready to fall
I am the world, and yet…
No one at all.
I.. don't know.

My facebook!: [link]

My music youtube page! : [link]
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    5. I think I'm afraid of sex. It's terrifying that two people can fit together perfectly, without even really liking each other at all. 4. I'm afraid of the day I start replacing myself with somebody else in all of our pictures; of the day I'll see my reflection and wish I didn't have to. 3. I'm afraid of doctors, and medicine. The first time I took lithium, I couldn't hold it down. So I locked the bathroom door and flushed the entire bottle. The second time, I couldn't walk more than ten steps without falling. Honestly, I'm just wondering why they use poison to purify me. 2. I'm afraid of the ocean. I'm afraid of looking down one day, and not seeing the edges. Of there being nothing there. I'm afraid of falling and having nothing to catch me. There's already nobody. The ground is really all I have. 1. I'm afraid of breaking things. Like, once, I broke my dad's trust in me. Once I broke somebody's heart. Once I broke my kindergarten teacher's favorite mug. The day after, though, she glued all of the pieces together into a sculpture. She took a broken thing and made it beautiful. And me, I'm still working on that. (And they all broke because I never held on in the first place. I'm always too afraid to let go.) 0. And mostly. I'm afraid of becoming a parent. I just can't stand imagining another child grow up, knowing exactly how to hate their mother.
I'm sorry I keep writing stories about me.
Also I know zero is not a number.
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With words I cannot utter,
not even to silence.
You cross my mind,
and hold my heart.
With the pain it all brings,
I don't even notice.
You're the drug that I crave,
Addicted to the numbness.
The perfect melody,
a chorus stuck in my head.
I'm lost with you,
drowning in your fire.
You're all I wanna see,
Dreaming when I'm awake.
I need a way,
just to escape.
I'm probably never going to like this, but here, I wrote something. Finally.

© ~glassbullets
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Meet a girl named No One, with a heart of shattered stone
Staring at the other girl, the one that's not alone
Girl with skin that glistens, with the eyes of crystal seas
Grin of shining diamonds and a laugh like a disease
Flashes just a glance and soon, she's every trouble's cure
She has everything… and No One's off to be like her.

Eating turns into a crime, she'd rather be away
Thrusting fingers down her throat to make herself okay
Watching as her very bones are seen behind her flesh
There she drowns in tears, for she has not yet seen success.

Minutes turn to hours, and these hours turn to days
Every moment slipping, slowly fading into grey
Rapidly, her body turns to nothing but her bones
As she fights for beauty, as she battles for the throne.

Broken hearts must learn to beat, and this she came to know
Learning it the hard way when her heartbeat grew too slow
Yet, she somehow managed still to shine from what's within
Lying in her casket with her hidden, unseen sin.

Final thoughts inside her head scream through the broken skies
She had never reached her goal, the one that took her cries.
They never acknowledged how the torture was so rough
She was never beautiful… not beautiful enough…
<3 comments??
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Featured
:icondurhaminlove:
Collection by
My heart,
My heart is locked up,
My heart is looked up in a little black book,
I keep poems in it now.
Emo, not emo...
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a slit a cut its all the same
a scar a cry so much pain
i hurt myself on the inside and out
i give a secrate scream a silent shout
what are you going to do its not like you care
so much depression so much dispair
not like you notice i dont show my tears
not like you see i hide my fears
emo poem...
please comment, it really helps me improve
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I beg for the end of life
Yet it does not come
I hate that I have no strife
This alone I must overcome

How hard I do try
To depart from the pack
Little is it known to I
This alone holds me back

I feel so much ‘pain’
Yet I know I shouldn’t
About my life I can’t complain
And if I could I wouldn’t

I sit alone each night
Until the mornings arrive
Imagining some fake plight
Which I must survive

My poetry to me seems strong
I put emotions into it
Fearing that it won’t be long
Before someone realizes I’m full of shit<b>
This is about emo kids... yeah
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The Darkness becomes me,
As I fall into pain.
My life is nothing but pain.
Outside is gay,
So in the dark I will play…
Forever Alone…
I’m an individual because I dress like my friends,
And I will decide when my life ends…

A swirling torrent of hurt and despair,
As I run bloody fingers through my own hair.
Unhappy and withered, for here I will sit.

All just because
My girl-pants don’t fit.
Emo subculture has taken so much away from what was once considered being a Romantic.

Also I like to complain because my parents are LIEK TEH SUXXORZ LIEK OMG I AM ORIGINAL WIF MAH HAIR DONE ALL KOOL LIEK.

<3 tight pants <3
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Emo?
is it really that bad?
you cant accept the fact
that i get a little sad?
that i am a little mad?
so i favor black
and i dont like pink
you use those as reasons
to make my soul sink
so some of us cut
and some of us dont
we can smile
laugh love and live
we're just not like the rest
sure we cry
we want to die
but none of you understand
its not like we had planned
to live life like this
to spend our days
depressed and amiss
we're not bad people
we dont worship satan
we're not out to kill anyone
we just dont like the world
as much as everyone else
and we dont like ourselves
as much as we could
but we're ok with that
you can call us ugly
you can call us fat
but you cant change who we are
we are emo
whats so wrong with that?
:rose: Emo :blackrose: I DIDN'T MAKE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I actually just found it. and i didn't know whos it was so i couldn't give credit for the rightful owner. I'm sorry. I actually forgot to say it wasn't mine cuz i only log on at school and i had to work fast cuz the teacher was coming. I'm sorry. [link] this person made it. ^^; i'm glad u spoke up so I now know who to give the credit to. but i did make my other poem! that one's mine. but i'm srry i didn't give credit!!!! Curse this evil skool.........
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Literature
:iconiikiui:
Collection by
Message from the ST
This is to the submitters of DeviantartSecret Just something to show them..

Message from DAS
Awwww Thank you very much :heart:
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You told me once

you would break my stars,

tear them from the sky and devour them


s l o w l y.


I neglected to tell you

they all had their own feelings

and your bruises form my own constellation

in the quiet valleys of my firefly skin.


I am the milky way.


And you, my sweet-

You are nothing more

than a dead star

with a pretty name.

What are the stars thinking as they look down on us?

More Poetry:

Dragons Blood You are an art journal,
all scraps of paper and profound quotes
of those you say "I'll fucking know one day",
because you love to shock me
with even more profound profanities
and those watercolor fingers
you use to shut me up.

Gently. Always gently.

You leave me moon-eyed;
Dragons Blood still lingering
in the wake of your
heartbeats against mine.
Missing Bones We spent our nights star gazing
on the top of that local bar on 5th street.
You said you loved me by night,
that no star or moon in any given universe
could compare to me; that we were lost warriors
searching for a home within the roots of one another.

I believed myself a wandering ghost among the living,
searching for missing bones and the warmth of another's grave.

You shook me then,
kissing me where it hurt most-
just to test a theory.
You whispered,

"Like dead birds,
you are not faceless;
your rib cage has a meaning."

And I believed I loved you then
underneath the moon and stars
tipsy on your smile and your words
a
Witch Trial I believe I was a ginger headed poet in a past life,
who wrote love through magik spells—
burning candle wax, whispering incantations
under a full moon and painting pale,
naked flesh with dirt and ash.
Dancing with ghostly ravens through flames,
to the thumpthumpthump of my storm heart,
as it became one with the earth.
I roared my passions and my glory
to the heavens above, laughing
like a crazy eyed crone for the sake
of those who feared me.
My witches tongue, hissing, 'Come hither!'
as heat licked my shoulders like an old lover,
come home.
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You never forget:

Your first day of school.
Your first boyfriend.
Your first kiss.
Your first date.
Your first time.
Your wedding day.
Your childhood.
The day you graduated.
The day your child was born.
The day you did something amazing.
The day you get hired.
The day you get fired.
The day you got recognized.
The day your dog died.
The day you cried at a sappy movie.
The day you did something stupid.
The day you had fun.
The day you didn't care.
The day you wanted to die.
The days you were happy.

All these things happen.
Things that you will never forget.

You might not remember all the details or the date
But you remember what's important.

These things that you never forget
Always have the biggest impact on who you are.
Just something i whipped up.

Over 950 favs thank you everybody!!

Facebook page: [link]

And no I dont want to hear about how you dont remember every single one of these things. Of course not every single person is going to remember all those things.
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1) To stuff my bra in hopes that you'll see me tonight

2) To dry the tears from my eyes when you don't

3) To blow my nose and try again tomorrow

4) To keep in my pocket just in case

5) To dab my lipstick before our date

6) To fix my mascara after you say you love me

7) To clean my glasses and see the truth on your collar

8) To wipe the crap off of your lips when you swear I'm the only one

9) To use every roll to cover your house in blankets of white

10) To replace the toilet paper I wasted on you
Love sucks... then you die.

:+devwatch:'Fave' and/or 'Comment' if you like. 'Suggest' if you love!
:iconpointsplz:Donate????Points???Donate!!!>> [link]


REQUEST: [link]

"You wont click this">> [link]
Don't hold your breath. >> [link]
I don't believe in Daily Deviations>> [link]
My stomach is eating itself.>> [link]
I kiss frogs. >> [link]
Fall for me...>> [link]
I will love a nerd!>> [link]
:new:The Secret Song>> [link]


NOTE TO READERS: I do in fact wipe my behind so stop asking about whether I do or if I forgot that on the list. ALSO this is not taken from any actual experiences of mine. I was writing at an ungodly hour and this just sorta happened so pleeeaaase no more advice about relationships...I really don't need it. If you don't have anything helpful or kind to say please refrain from commenting. This is my REAL rant right here: Stop hating on my poetry just cuz it makes the front page!
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Hate me,
Call me names,
humiliate me,
You can't change who I am.

Beat me,
Hit me,
Rub salt in my wounds,
You can't change who I am.

Spread rumors,
Tell lies,
Turn your back on me,
You can't change who I am.

Arrest me,
Silence me,
Threaten me,
You can't change who I am.

Do everything you can,
To try and change me,
But the fact still remains,
You will never change who I am.   
This is for :iconpinkbluebibliofreak: Because she had a terrible experience and my prayers go out to her.
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Literature
:iconleaf-star:
Collection by
We cut hearts
into paper to make streams
                         of love.
That was my impression of it.
That you ripped
      off
    the pieces you didn't want
until you got something that was
                          pretty.
It's no wonder
that I can't believe that someone
would think I was paper-perfect,
                         or loved.

             ~♥~♥~
Inspired by the title of one of today's DD's; "paper hearts" so thank you *travelgirlxx!
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People are like
Apples.
Some are
Sweet
Some are
Sour.
Some are just plain
Bruised.
They are all
Unique.
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I want to create an aromatic sea of jasmines
and stardust mountains of silver and —

No.

Inkblot skeletons with paper mache
hearts, whose bones shall burn with one glance at the
sun; gravestones of blood diamonds and tears of thistles...

Harp strings ringing in grotesque harmony, screaming
for slender fingers to pluck and caress with devotion.

I want to write

    gods


and

    chaos.
I'll cease with spamming you all with dumb and worthless writing this week, now.

This actually has a deeper meaning.

I'll just keep that to myself.

New styles are fun to play around with.

Why did this make the front page. I don't get it.

Well...I edited the format a bit, because it made it flow better in my eyes...yeah....
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Let me tell you a story. Let me paint you a picture.

It’s dark and I’m alone and the wind is howling and once upon a time, I might have made this sound poetic. I’m crying, but it’s not pretty. I’m crying and my nose is red and my hands are shaking and the cigarette is limp between my scarred, calloused fingers. I once might have made this sound pretty. I might have made it sound desirable. Did you want a high? All you had to do was touch my skin, to feel your way down my sweat-slicked hips. Did you want to get buzzed? You just had to soak in the passion like alcohol and let your mind go wild. I used to have nothing but chaos to offer. Now I just have memories – do you want to take them?

But you won’t. I know that. I paid the price and life paid me. Whatever I once had is gone and it’s been replaced with this shaking emptiness. I can no longer get drunk. I just get sad. I sit at broken pianos and think about the music they used to make, like the words I used to cry. I hold empty bottles to my fractured ribs and wish that the heat would inspire more than sorrow. Wish I could stumble back into the stumbling incoherency and find my voice in the tornado of silence. But I don’t. I can’t. Instead I just sit there quietly.  

It was once attractive – remember that? Now it’s just sad. Now it’s just dirty hair and hallowed cheeks and anxiety that rips through limbs like an earthquake on the veranda. I’m holding my knees to my chest at night but I’m not counting stars, I’m counting moments and veins and the way that they tie together. I’m pressing my chapped lips to the scarred patch of skin on my thigh and wishing I could make it go away. Make you go away. Make the order fall away like the scales from the eyes of the unbelieving. Make my life come back in dribbles and splatters and bleed into my husked out body like the ocean into a tide pool.

(But it won’t, I know that. It can’t.)
{"showers pounding out a new beat
I trade my old shoes for new feet
I grab a new seat
I don't like the one I got
the fabric's wearing through
and it's wearing me out"
--tegan and sara

writing exercise - pencil to paper and don't stop.
i'm not sure i like the result, but at least there is one.
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Literature
:iconinvaderzib13:
Collection by
Featured
:iconlove2bug:
Collection by
There's a girl
Standing in the crowd

No one sees
And no one cares

The parents slap
The dog bites
The children laugh
The teacher ignores

This sad, sad little girl
Will stand there in the crowd

All alone
Standing tall

Until the very end
Because

She is strong
Doing poetry in writing class and this is what happened
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There he is,
talking to his friends.
I love his smile.
His laugh.
His jokes.
He never believes me when I say it.
He probably thinks its cheesy.

But its true.
His hair.
His eyes.
His voice.
It all makes me calm and happy.

All I need is him.
For some odd reason,
I do not know of.
He will be the reason I smile.
He will be the reason I laugh.
He will be the reason I'm happy.

Because without him.
I feel nothing.
It's sad,
he brightens up my day though.
He loves me.
I love him.

When he talks to another girl though,
I'm afraid to loose him.
He's the best thing ever to happen to me.
My day.
My life.
Can be calmed down by one single word from him.

Even if it is just a hey,
Even if it is just a I don't know or Wassup.

He can easily turn my frown upside down.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Just like he did to my world
I dont know I felt like writing something lol My feelings :3
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The wonders of life.
My hearts true strife.
A noble cause.
So please take a pause.
For you are my love.
A beautiful dove.
My hearts one desire.
Such a beautiful fire.
A fire in my heart.
To think you were the start.
The one a fell for.
And it just makes me want you more.
Because true love never ends.
Our hearts always mends.
When we hold one another close.
...still don't like descriptions...but it's about my girlfriend, my best friend, and my love. :)
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I feel shame when he touches my skin.
Guilt, regret, but my voice goes numb.
I can't move, my heart is racing.
His fingers feel up my leg, my thigh and then it hits.
I close my eyes wishing he would stop.
His lips press hard into mine.
I look up and see only lust filled eyes.
I like the feeling but its not love, only sin.
His cheap cologne was filling my nose, rubbing onto my shirt.
I lay there when he walks out the door.
Hoping to god this isn't going to happen anymore.
Just getting out some feelings.....
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Litter-a-chair
:iconartmusic981:
Collection by
Why is it,
That when you try your best
Not to hurt a soul...

You end up getting hurt
More than anybody else?
Not a poem XD Not really poetic at all.
Complete crap actually =P

Anyway, enjoy! <3
Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Mikki-M…
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Last autumn, I murdered a girl named Summer.

Summer looked just like the sound of her name: the hum of a firefly harmonizing with the quiet growl of a motorcycle riding into a star-drenched night. She had a glow from the inside right out and an irresistible bite.

A senior in high school, Summer had her sights on Yale, hell, she had the plane ticket and the acceptance letter snuggled in the shoulder bag she carried everywhere. Her best friend, Danielle, made it for her 17th birthday. Despite her party being the biggest of the year, Danielle found a secluded enough place to tearfully give her best friend the gift. It was a quilted piece. Danielle was probably the craftiest and most thoughtful person Summer had ever met. They had gone on a small road trip only last year. Danielle took quiet pictures of sights, of laughter, of youth and the seemingly endless days. She printed these onto fabric and sewed together the memories of the best parts of their friendship. Even with all they had been through, someone had touched Summer in a place deeper than anyone and his leaving ripped a hole in the fabric of their friendship that all the good memories in the world could never fill.

The first time I saw Summer was in the art classroom. She was alone at an easel painting a boy. I leaned against the door frame as she stroked out her pain onto the canvas. Her brush swept around swirling him into greater and greater clarity but the momentum of the storm she was unleashing slowed on his eyes. His eyes made me slow too when I saw the light in them go out -  deep green eyes with flecks of hazel.

Her shoulders slumped just as I was stepping into the room. She sighed and set the brush down. I left.

---

Summer cried into her locker as Danielle walked swiftly away wiping her own tears. 

She wanted to hang out with friends like they always had but Summer was stuck on a boy named Travis. Danielle wasted away night after night holding together these pieces of her friend, her best friend. They had been through so much together: rained-on-concerts, a school fire, the death of a close friend/more-than friend, break-ups, outcasts, parents running out of the good ol' unconditional love, her sibling going off to war and good things too like slowly-gained popularity, college applications and interviews, dreams creeping into reach. Danielle didn't like me. Apparently, I watched Summer too obsessively, held her hand too tightly, listened to her a little too closely. She said I was taking her friend away, prying the two of them apart and turning her best friend into something unrecognizable.

I tried to be there for Danielle too, after I found her gripping loneliness under the gym bleachers, shivering over her brother leaving for war. She talked to me until she started crying harder but then the concerned footsteps of Summer scared me away and I left her to find comfort in someone else's embrace. I remember her frantically whispering me away with,  "I am not alone" over and over until Summer finally found her. 

Danielle pleaded with Summer to turn to her and not to me. She asked her to open up like she had in the past, like they had always to one another. Summer's lips trembled but did not part. 

Today Danielle asked for Summer to give her some space. 

I approached Summer as she wept alone in the hallway and wrapped my arms around her waist; she leaned into me with violently shaking shoulders. I helped her crumble to the ground.

We had become close since that last encounter in the art classroom; she caught me looking at her in the hallway the next day and found me in a corner of the library. Her mom and dad fought using fewer words, more heavy blows of cold war silences. The boy, Travis, with the now dead eyes she struggled to bring to life in paintings, was haunting her dreams. And to top it all off, her dog died only a week ago. She sought me out then in this corner of the library where no one goes to read but to be alone and she sat next to me. 

She came back to me every day after that and sat closer and closer till her hand was slipping into mine, until her head was resting on my chest, until she was suffocating her sobs in my soul. 

After the principle sent her home early, Summer asked for me to stay over at her house. Sitting in the passenger seat I could see how bent she had become. Her spine curved like a wave about to break over the steering wheel she gripped with a hungry need for lost control.

---

Summer stopped going to school so I came to her house. She would drag me into bed and hold me, nuzzle into me. She had started writing about me and I could see touches of my demeanor in the figures she sketched along side the poetry.

When she would manage to fall asleep I would caress her neck, kiss it, when she was awake sometimes till blue. Asleep, I would trace her veins with a finger, rub her wrist till she stirred and then I would feel her pulse, a small heartbeat, her ebbing life.

One night as she sweated into the pillow groaning "Travis don't" I whispered into her ear, "Travis jump" and she struggled against me, screaming, "Travis please!" and her parents didn't hear their perfect daughter breaking with me in the night because mom was sleeping in the arms of the neighbor and dad was passed out in his Mercedes outside a bar.

Summer was beating on me like she finally saw me for what I was. She rolled out of bed and flipped on the switch to blind herself with light, to drown herself in it, to drown me. I held her hands to the edge of the sink as she yelled in the mirror, "Leave me alone! Fuck," she rasped against the tight curl of my fingers around her neck, "I can't do this anymore."

When I killed Summer, her initial resistance was as red as Travis's. Their final struggle to breathe against the bleed was what bound them and it was this fire that mesmerized me, drew me in; I was the moth beating against the corners of eyes. 

But as I lay myself upon their flames, they swallowed me like kindling and I lodged myself, without mercy, in their throats.

Sean DePres
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It took him sixty-one seconds to die. I counted.

The beach was only a walk away from there, and the sun was beating down on our heads and our hats. We hid under the trees and laughed. We were in love, if that's what love meant. We hugged each other, as we walked down the burning pavement in loud flip-flops and ripped shorts.

We were so close. I didn't know that that would be the last time I'd ever see him alive.

I was nervous when I told him, that if we were really in love, we would be together forever. He giggled softly, and told me forever was a long time. I knew that of course. It was too good to be true, I thought. He told me not to think about forever, and we sat on the park bench, overlooking the beach. I leaned my head on his shoulder and I felt his smile light up above me, and I smiled too and closed my eyes. Everything was perfect, that moment there, it felt like forever, a good kind of forever.

We didn't notice the shouting. We were too in love.

Love can do that. Love is blinding, it's distracting. We stood up, for that split second when we saw the people running and things did become loud. Louder, and louder, but we didn't feel scared, we were too confused. I didn't see it, I only turned around in time to shout his name. I couldn't explain the emptiness in his eyes when it happened, the confusion and horror that made up his face. He fell backwards and I caught him in time, but it didn't help him.

He was in pain, I had no way of helping him. It was horrible.

The red gushed out of his chest, I could see it, and I was afraid. I was horrified. Where was our forever? There was something silver, glinting and gleaming deep within his chest; where the bullet had hit him. It was stained with red and purple. I didn't know what to do. He breathed heavily, and I tried to comfort him, and I started counting in my head.

He was barely breathing now. I didn't know what to do.

The people did not care for me, they rushed past me and ran away, and the moment died away as they ran, the sun set lower and lower. It happened very quickly. I held him to my heart, I told him not to leave me. Not to go. That we truly were in love, and that I didn't know how things could've gotten so, so wrong. I was not ashamed of screaming. He didn't mind. He said he loved me, I loved him. It had gone a deep gray, a dark black, it had turned to nothingness.

How would my life continue? How would I continue?

He said nothing else. He just smiled, and he closed his eyes and leaned back. The red stained my shirt, and I didn't care. He didn't answer me. He was gone. I screamed and I stopped counting in my head.

It took him sixty-one seconds to die.

This wasn't what we meant by

...forever.
© SpiderwebWisher 2013

I wrote a short version of this story, but a deviant named JanaRaf told me she would like the story to be longer and meatier. Requested by ~JanaRaf This is probably the most depressing story I've written so far, but only because I was feeling depressed when I wrote this.

EDIT: IS THAT A DAILY DEVIATION? OHMIGOSH, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH, AND OF COURSE, =Azleah44 FOR SUGGESTING IT AND ^neurotype FOR FEATURING IT! <3
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I dreamed once that I saw your face in
my mirror, rippling prolifically like
water on glass on my face,
and then I was drowning, and I
fell,
   fell,
      fell  
too fast into your watery eyes.

                   Without imagination, prosaically as you
                   could, you told me you
                   loved me and hoped we'd meet again
                   soon. I smiled, proprietarily, and
                   wiped the steam off of your face as
                   I left you on probation and closed the door behind me.

You came to me then, in the mists, clinging
to me under my jacket and in my hair and my eyes and my mouth until
I was suffocating and choking
under the weight of the water and the
proximity of your hands. I screamed until the mists
filled my lungs and I couldn't breathe, all I could do was
fall,
  fall,
     fall

                  into your bleary eyes and through them
                  into the sea off of the promontory that I
                  thought that I loved. I
                  fell,
                    fell,
                      fell
and screamed with the mist and my protracted cry
became the hissing
of a teakettle that sat too long on the stove.

You joined me then for dinner, sitting
gently in my cup. And you
fell,
  fell,
    fell
                  with every drop into my bloodstream like a drug
                  that I couldn't quite give up.  You dripped
                  through my brain and whispered
                  me secrets, how you could only
                  fall,
                    fall,
                      fall,
into me, my lungs, my mind.
With hands like rocks and
lips like steam you had found me
on the edge of the darkest river
curled against moss and whispering winds.
I hissed like the mists, too soft and slow,
and you told me we could walk on water
if I could learn not to fall.
Written as an assignment, turned into something more. Kind of a lil emotional. But that's okay, right?

In my English class, we are told to write sentences for our Vocab words we get weekly to show that we understand their definition. I'm the only one who makes stories of them, as a challenge and for fun. The words from this set are:

Prolific
Prosaic
Proprietary
Probation
Proximity
Promontory
Protract
Protuberance
Profuse

I love these challenges, but this is the first piece I've really liked from them.
Hope you guys enjoy!

Edit-fixed the ending, probably give it a couple of tries.

Edit--tried another change to the ending. Suggestions, anyone?

Edit---Holy....what? WHAT?! Oh my...OHMYFREAKINGGOSH.

Thank you so much for the DD, I am honored! I will respond to all comments and faves, so feel free to tell me what you think =D
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poetry
:iconangelicdeamon96:
Collection by
:iconthe-huntress-20: dragon oc
i aplogize on the quality and lack of dragon esk awesome...but i lack the skill to do dragons and this was my first in depth one
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God called in sick today,
and the sky is dancing.
People walked hand in hand
singing in tune with the damned.

Running without stories
‘this is what tragedy feels like’
dead is the new alive
but misery loves company.

Racing with the devil
one doesn't dare stop against
the lord of the damned
he laughs against the concrete.

Can one play with madness
as they dance on clouds of mind?
Heavens a lie when butterflies are flying in hurricanes
And God takes a day off.

Wasted time throwing rocks at stars
souls refuse their eternal rest
they drink a cup of galaxy for breakfast
hymn of the shameless.

Obsession is an ugly word.
When dead becomes the new alive
the devil walks the earth
and God takes a day off work.
From my favorite place to get prompts when I encounter writers block, #343 'God called in sick today'. I had a bit of fun, wondering what could make sense and what wouldn't, and just really enjoyed writing this piece.

Please let me know what you think.

Facebook
Tumblr Reblog

Featured at #InspireTheUninspired here.
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I won't let a razor blade
Take away this life I've made.

I won't let the shame and guilt
Ruin everything I've built.

I won't let being wrong
Stop me from being strong.

I won't let sorrow and pain
Resurrect the demons that I've slain.

I won't let ugly spite
Tell me that I'm not right.

I won't let the dark past
Make my endless hurt last.

I won't let this noose
Leave me hanging loose.

I won't let the world win;
My life is only just about to begin.
Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think :)
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I have been trying to sleep
come on, here we go
my thoughts are running deep
and they just grow and grow

I have been trying to love
come on, here we go
this depression fits me like a glove
this emptiness is filled by woe

I have been trying to see
come on, here we go
my blindness fills me
I used to be able to, long ago

I have been trying to escape
come on, here we go
I can still see the gap
where I tried, long ago

I have been trying to walk
come on, here we go
but, somehow, I am still in shock
but, it does not surprise me, to some degree

I have been trying to find myself
come on, here we go
somewhere, I am on a shelf
I just want to be free
Just a poem
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