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I Trust YouI trust you
I trust you
I trust you
I trust you
So far from confidence
So far from feeling whole
Does it even exist anymore?
Embarrassed to love you outright
I can neither let go
Nor let you be happy
I wanted you to be happy with me
I trust you
I trust you
I trust you
That you tell me the whole truth
That you don’t shield your reservations
Protecting that that can destroy us
In case of failure
You assure our fate
Just as I do with my accusation
By pretending you love only me.
GrowthThe mystery slowly comes into focus
The haze of uncertainty,
Dissolves into a calm confidence.
I am the earth, emerging suitable to plant
Desire, to protect gentle roots
To Aerate new innovation
I am the gardener, cultivating and pruning
Decision, of what matures,
And what I let whither.
A MortocycleThe sound of the motor
Once a siren of joy
Now brings only dread
Sick thoughts in my head
This too shall pass
Red fades into black
Black becoming white
New beginnings in sight
My rhyme is contrived
Words flowing like cheap wine
Sick thoughts in my head
Doubt, Shame, and Hope
Write out each new note
To me it all sounds the same
Echoed pestilence through my brain.
The Eternal Story: Character Exposition 2/3 ChanceAs I stare at this blank page, he is infinite potential. The choices that we posses, the very things that separate us from each other, make life possible. Our desire to prove and explain simultaneously drives and improves us, as it collapses the infinite potential that exists within everything that is left unobserved.
The most personally relatable of the Three, Chance inhabits and embodies humanity. He is our freedoms, joys and unbridled expectations. Every choice, mistake, success or providence that we have enjoyed or lamented, is only possible through reality and limited existence.
Purpose, unsure and striving. The unknown. He is ruled by temptation and chaos. The only love he knows is passion, irate and inconsolable.
Rage consumes the inexperienced. Our insecurity manages our day-to-day lives in the struggle for control, acceptance, and understanding.
So much of his portrayal can only be explained through his actions.
Chance is the flame that ignites the fuse; it is his struggle tha
The Eternal Story: Character Exposition 1/3- TimeFather Time is not old, for to be so, he would have to be a patron of his own cycle. He is, has always been, as long as there has been anything in existence. Which is to say forever, because if there is not something, there is nothing, and time is not relevant.
He is constant, relative to each realm of existence, and yet unyielding to conscious woes. A compilation of heat, space, and development; never dictated; yet never fully understood. Sheer comprehension is impossible without perspective, and within perspective, lies restriction.
Time bears no emotion. That would equate to limitation, and thereby "humanity" as it will so superfluously be named. In a constant superposition of interpretation, simultaneously faster or slower when compared to the varying observer. Yet on each scale a distinct tempo is unchangeable, as if he does control every realm to some degree. The beauty of parenthood; to create and guide a life, through an environment specific to each being, and yet remain comple
My Little BirdThe evening kisses cool on the back of my neck. I huddle smaller despite the mildness of the breeze. My thoughts turn inward, abandoning civility as I forget to remember again. Christine is a miraculous disaster. She inherently empowers everyone around her. The chaos that is my consciousness every time she walks through it, as carelessly as haphazard. I form a nest, plant a feeder of tempting humbugs, in the hopes that she will settle for a short while, and let me watch. Snap photographs of my imagination; little intangible keepsakes that contain fragile, happy feelings that manifest only for her. My little bird. I let her fly, and she never returned. I am never truly disappointed. It is impossible for me to feel anything but optimistic and positive when she is in my mind. Smitten.
I travel on in the illusion I created for myself when I feel a crunch under my foot. The pink smoke blows from my eyes, and I see a slight, porcelain, little girl; her left arm now dismembered. Such a beauti
When Stars CollapseThis is how you bespeckled my bones
with bewilderment: you kissed hushed heart
whispers and slumbering secrets
into my fingertips. You infused awe
into my joints, causing me
to ask how snowflakes got their
shape and how long would it take
to get from the Sun to Capella.
You taught me that energy is neither
created or destroyed; stars do not die.
Eyes washed with emerald sorrows you
told me that they evolve, they change
into something entirely different,
or not so different.
I now know we are made of the same
particles as someone or something else.
We began someplace together.
We're made of so much more than "star-stuff",
we are made of each other.
In a world with no mercy
Day after day
Until the end
The day I die
And then maybe
I'll find some peace
The Breaths Between Usi'm minutes away
from the collision site
the breaths between us
and the lost time
clock guts, sprung
our hallway uncoils
his walnut lean
i'm seconds away
from the before
of our near-miss
the beads of air
and the imperfections of
in a rumored heart
a stuttering mass
this broken belled
has lost hold
of the lives we live
its skullsong rings
the same vibration
I am me. Who are you?I am fragments
of every person
I've met; every
memory made; every
bond formed and tie broken.
I am an orchestra
of people's opinions;
each snide comment
each casual remark
each passing compliment
I am a library
of forgotten lies
and fake smiles
and empty promises.
I am a sky of hope;
filled with stars
which carry the wishes
of the people I have encountered
I am never alone
for their influence will forever
taint my soul and
remind me of their hopes,
dreams and pain.
This is who I am.
Who are you?
Blooming Through CrevicesBlooming Through Crevices
People are characters;
their personalities are not to be cracked,
but to bloom.
Codes and signals
Setting our sights
On how to see
Through the cipher.
Optics opting for options
As opposed to conscious.
Ardor replaced by harder
To break through exteriors.
But mortality is only one facet
Of the entirety of humanity.
It is a compass of one being,
But merely a piece of the puzzle
That makes up human composition.
let us not break through empathy
with deductive methodology
but rather with the rhythm
of a honeybee whistling along the hymn
of the wind whispering in the leaves.
humanistic, holistic ideologies
is what the standard can be.
it is the notion of being a metaphor
rather than being something to decipher.
because there are more stars and galaxies
in poetry than there will ever be algebraic
expression curls up with ambiance
under the window pain of a picture frame
because we write more about
storiesi begin and end with stories
where hummingbird hearts play sonatas
against my ribs and i drown in
early morning light and
the girl in me sinks into the sea
like rusting anchors chained to
ships and i sway port and starboard
the lion in me rises like lazarus
from the savannah where dust swirls
and i begin and end with stories
where i swallow the world and all
the rain and girls and lions in it
where i hold it up like atlas,
where i support jupiter with just
an index finger and where i chase
comets and cup them like fireflies
to hang on my bedroom walls
on remembering to breathe:i.
you can't hold it in for forever.
your lungs weren't
made to bear the weight
of this world, they weren't made
to left unexpanded
and unexplained -
it is not phenomenon that wakes you
when paralysis hits in the
night, it is physiology telling you that
not everything happens on automatic, okay?
(at least not for always)
you're born like a time bomb, with
only so many beats of
your heart in place to tick away day by day -
your words, they're the same.
there's a time limit
on your tongue, so say something that
means something - use words
that dig in and rip out hearts, use words that
curl around your fingers and worm their
way into your soul.
use words to make something
beautiful. something remembered.
never leave three things
left unsaid because they can be three
words that mean everything -
i'm not telling you to save your breath.
i'm begging you not to waste it.
sing. sing enough to take your breath
away because even though
it leaves you gasping, it fills up that
ParalyzedManic action crippled by indecision
Over saturation of option
I could run a marathon
Scream loud and long
Pick a fight
Destroy an opportunity
Do something drastic and irrational
To equalize the pressure between
And the treacherous ocean.
And I do.
Fidgeting in my chair,
It all happens within me.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More