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Shattered Glass Like StarsI am ash in the wind
And I am shattered glass
Once a burning flame,
A smoldering ember;
I became less.
Now I am
Pieces of something
I cannot name any more;
Scattered on a breeze
Shards of dying light.
A forgotten life
All burned to ruins in your eyes.
Better left where they've gathered
In drifts and ebbs
On the edges of our minds.
Baby Dream in CellophaneI dream in Cellophane.
My world and yours so close, if I press against this invisible rift between us I can feel your warmth against my fingertips, but I cannot feel your skin. If I close my eyes and remember its almost like you're here. But when I open them I find myself wrapped in my covers, naked and alone, cold; the heat from your body has faded by then, from your side of the bed, though the smell of your skin lingers on the pillow.
I dream in Cellophane.
Memories perfectly preserved, wrapped so carefully and set to chill so they wont spoil; the heat of them, the passion they contain so overwhelming it might soil my thoughts of you in your silent perfection.
I dream in Cellophane.
You never speak in my dreams. Or if you do I can't hear you, your mouth, my ears, wrapped in this thin sheet of plastic, holding everything at bay, the perfect arms length away.
Morning AfterEverything seemed to pulse vaguely for her, wavering mildly at the edges of her vision in an almost soothing way. Her body felt like the ocean, her head a marry-go-round, and all of her ached for him and his deepness. She would lay on the deck and laugh as the fireflies danced, unable to stop, lucid, but not in control anymore. She would giggle and turn her head to him and smile unabashedly and he would eat it up, he was her wolf, and she was straying too far from the path.
She would relax her muscles, not realizing how bound they had been for so long, or how good they felt when released, she wouldn't care to notice. She would find her confidence and her bravery and she would learn to be forward and brash and take what she wants from life. She would smirk a hungry little smirk and she would cover him, consume him, wrack him hard and then collapse with him.
But in the morning, she will surface, clear headed, the pulsing ocean-body long settled into twisting muscle and bone and blood. Sh
She Left Her NameIf I could I would run through life naked and laughing.
I would wear nothing but an extra large t-shirt, so white and thin you can see through it, and I would run from the tops of mountains across the wind and the ocean and I would see everything. I would leave my name behind.
I would be just like that girl Sally from the play I read in high school.
Because I can't be like you, or like my mother, or my father, and I'm scared of the people I've fallen in love with. Sometimes I don't want this life anymore, and that's ok. Sometimes I pocket things I shouldn't, just because I can, and I wanted to. Sometimes I go rushing down the path just to turn ninety degrees east at breakneck speeds to see if I can find a different way there.
I can't live life with a plan. That would be so disappointing, because I know that in the grand scheme of things, my plans mean nothing to anyone or anything. What matters are the images and the ideas and the people and the memories that have stuck with me through
BetrayalIf Your lies are the poison
And our friendship the water
Its no wonder I was the only one drinking from the well.
Deja VuYou tell me that "Work is slow, and its leaving me too much time to reflect on life" through a text. The smile that had slipped across my lips when i saw your name labeling my new text message drops like a hot pot from a scorched hand, its clangs, ringing dully in my lower stomach. These are the things you said to me before you walked out the door. Before I stopped you, sobbing at the bottom of the stairs begging to know why. Before I ran barefoot into the street without looking. I don't want to do this again.
Ghost Stories: LithiumFall of 2013 I finally found myself some help. I owe a lot to my boyfriend at the time, he supporte me through nights of uncontrolled sobbing, anger, depression, and did his best to make me feel my best as I struggled in those first weeks on Lithium.
Its a drug surrounded in negative stigma, and as far as I have been made aware, no on eis actually sure how it works, just that it does so long as your dose isn't at a tixic level. The idea of taking poison for medicine scared me. I would sit and cry alone about it in the first few days I was taking it, though soon my concerns turned to the more physically uncomfortable side effects I began going through.
At first I was just achy and tired. Soon those became a general hinderance to my ability to function, I would come home from work and sit on the couch and often would not move until it was time to go to bed. Soon though these were paired with moderate, and resiliant headaches, dizzyness and disorientation. I began to feel nausious after e
Ghost Stories: IntroIt began when I was very young, maybe seven or eight. I can see it now, walking from the cul-de-sac to my parents' house as the evening light began fading to dusk, the street lights having just popped on before I left my friend's house. It was a short walk, and I was never out of sight of either house until I was within sight of the other so it was pretty safe, and we knew all the neighbors, I wasn't afraid to walk home.
I reached the tee in the street where the cul-de-sac met the street my parents lived on I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, maybe five houses down on my left, under the next closest street lamp was a black shadow. I was confused; I'd never seen this thing before and I couldn't quite make out what it was. Squinting to see I stopped in the street and turned to get a better look. As I started to take a step towards it it began to grow, expand, unfold into a man.
A man, standing in the street light and staring, watching me. He was dressed in an old suit and ha
I'm Even More Homeless NowTrigger warnings for: homophobia, depression, anorexia, self-harm, suicide
My home was Venezuela. Forget what you've been told about the gorgeous coastlines, about the angelic waterfall, about the snow-peaked mountains. Those were saved for rich foreigners who could afford to fly in for a few days and forget about the rest of the world theirs and mine.
But I should stop being so dramatic. The people I lived with and me, we were in the middle-class. I had no idea what that meant at the time, of course. All I knew was that the black beans were plentiful, the cheese was sweet, the meat was savoury, and there were enough cachapas to last my whole life; the mall nearby was the most beautiful, plentiful, mysterious building I'd ever find; I worked through books like a termite through wood and I loved them more than anything; everyone else was just like me; and this was the best of all possible worlds.
But I was a little stupid boy. When I was six, I was bro
"The GOP and Lesbian Porn"
"The GOP and Lesbian Porn"
by Jay Richard
There was an Election Party at the Campus Center during the 2004 Presidential Election. It started at 8:00 PM and went on until God only knows when. At the time I was in my dorm and talking to people online while following CNN and Yahoo! News. Unfortunately, everyone I knew was either busy, somewhere else, or online and about to leave.
The election was going depressingly well for Bush. I had expected that fear and ignorance would do that sort of thing. I tried not to act too depressed -- there was still California, Florida, and Ohio. I got my scarf and coat and decided to take a ten minute walk to the Campus Center for lack of anything better to do.
There were only two Atkins-friendly soda cans left by the time I arrived. It was all business majors sitting around drinking soda and talking about stuff not relating to the elections, any of the elections, in the damnedest. CNN was on the TVs there, for all the good that did. Two people seemed to a
Ugly Girls and Lonely BoysSo I heard you like the beautiful girls well I know
The ones with the legs that get their hair to flow
Softly and teasing men with perfection
It means girls like me don't get mentioned
Lonely boys write lonely words about perfect girls
And lonely girls watch their lonely boys love perfect girls
And just let me tell you, under this ugly chest
An ugly heart is breaking because you followed the rest
Re: God's Love"I think its so sad that people are so caught up in blindness that they can't see me trying to help them."
We are not blind.............WE DONT WANT YOUR HELP!
Do you see me knocking on your door telling you what you should believe? I am stuffing Atheism down your throat? If we want to "find" God we know exactly where to find him every Sunday morning, and occasionally during the week.
"There is so much evidence that points to God but the hard thing is that only people who are even slightly open minded can even begin to see it"
Maybe through your perception, such a statement may be true but through the perceptions of others such a statement may be false.
"Its hard for me to sit back and watch people walk down a road that will destroy them. Dang free will!"
Perhaps it is you that is on the wrong path, how many religions are there in the world? How is it that YOURS and ONLY YOURS is the right path, while everyone else is wrong?
This is a story of how it began.
This is a story of how it ended.
This is a story of five-letter words
like no said two and a half times.
His words were blue stains on the canvas and the birds I drew in the canvas sky were the uneven check marks of his top lip. I wanted to draw his eyes, but he always kept them lowered.
Who was I to change that?
Three months ago he went through his short story, took out all the verbs.
"I don't want the romance to go anywhere," he said.
His girlfriend rolled her eyes and told him that he'd never make it as an artist. It was a joke, but she wasn't smiling.
Three days ago, she said, pausing in the doorway:
"I guess I'm just hungrier than you're artistic. Should have gotten a job."
Once upon a time, I saw him sitting near the exit and came over, cutting off the waiter as he reached for the check. He wasn't brave enough to walk away without paying. The light from th
running sharply from your tongue
embracing my aching heart
crushing it to dust
Evidence you created
emerging from your mouth
tears rolling down the valleys of your face
brow furrowed in desperate screaming
Appearing for all the world
as the victim of self satisfaction
your rage making almost truths
from disconnected incidents
Real world affections
rolling out of me and over you
like raindrops in the ocean.
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More