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Knew MeI'm cold
I'm not good enough
I'm not pretty enough
Goodbye Nice to have known you
All of this you say
All of this you mean
But that's not who I am inside
So how can you say you ever knew me?
Doll on the Shelf
She’s not beautiful.
She’s not perfect.
She’s chipped in several spots,
And her porcelain eye cannot close.
No matter how much I try to fix her,
She doesn’t get clean.
So why do I want her you ask?
Because she’s just like me.
Why?I realize I'm a bad friend
So why do you stay?
I know I'm never there
So why do you depend on me?
I know I make you cry
So why do you show me smiles?
I know I mainly give out pain
So why do you give back kindness?
I know you deserve someone better
So why cant I let you go?
20 Reasons WhyOne because you're beautiful
Two because I love your smile
Three because your so carefree
Four because your lips are so soft
Five because you're hand fit perfectly with mine
Six because you still chase after him
Seven because I know you don't miss me
Eight because I know you don't love me back
Nine because I lost you
Ten because I miss you
Eleven because we aren't the same now
Twelve because I'm a screw up
Thirteen because we never worked
Fourteen because that didn't matter to me
Fifteen because I cant learn from my mistakes
Sixteen because it was never over for me
Seventeen because you love him now
Eighteen because always around is never enough
Nineteen because I'm gonna screw us up again
Twenty because I love you
one reason equals one slash
Maybe enough reasons will solve my problem this time
The Prospect Street Paramour (Summery)Tara was sixteen and homeless, still in school but living in the park. One night she meets David, a twenty nine year old man, and her world is turned upside down. He teaches her that not every family is like hers, and that love doesn’t have to mean bruises that have to be hidden. Tara’s secrets come to light after David sees her father drunk at the bar he works at. What has she been hiding? Will she be able to understand something she’s never had…love.
EveryoneEveryone thinks I’ve gotten better…
But I haven’t
Everyone thinks I’m okay now…
But I’m not
Everyone thinks I’m happy now…
But I’m not
Everyone thinks I can sleep without nightmares…
But I can’t
Everyone thinks I’m not afraid…
But I am
Everyone thinks they could tell if something was wrong…
But they can’t
Everyone thinks I’m gonna make it…
But I won’t
NeglectedWhat could you be fighting over now?
If it’s your parenting again,
Then you both best stay quiet.
Neither of you were good enough.
You had one job,
To love me and protect me.
Neither of you did that.
You both put yourselves first
And let what was going on happen.
How did you not notice the limp in my walk that morning?
How could you turn me away because of my gender?
You were both supposed to love me the most
More than any others in the world.
You were supposed to be parents,
Not whining selfish humans.
I’ve accepted that you didn’t want me,
Now to show you that I know.
Even if that wasn’t what either of you could be.
RainRain falls around the world
On every head in every country.
Dark clouds mask everyone's skies
When they were once clear.
But ask yourself this question....
Do you get drenched and washed away
Or do you dance between the raindrops?
QuestionsWas life really so bad?
Was it better to die than live the life you had?
Did someone hurt you?
Did someone tell you to?
Could you see any light in a place so dark?
Could you have called for ones hopeful face?
What went wrong?
Had that hopeful one gone?
Did you do out of sorrow?
Did you really believe that for you there was no tomorrow?
To all of these question there is an answer
Did you get drenched instead of being a rain drop dancer?
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
Before My Mouth Told You I Was Sickbefore my mouth told you i was sick, there were
the fingers that wrapped around cups and cups of tea.
i sipped oceans.
i sipped the seven seas
and my ribs were the rainstick that
sent shivers pattering like some
down your swaying, praying spine.
there were the hurricanes.
that is what you came to call them,
my eyes burst into lightning,
my chest quaked with thunder,
when my ribs heaved with the monsoon
that was my breath
until i collapsed, shaking, into your
beach house arms.
there were the missing beats.
sometimes my heart slowed, stopped,
staggered home drunk to gasp morse-code warnings
between my aching ribs.
sometimes the stillness was so perfect
(and alone so tempting)
that i wished for the beat
to wander far and
to be forever lost.
there were the ribs, and the collarbones.
i was a mountain range with
blood in my rivers,
you saw the carrot sticks
(oh god how could you)
and you let me feed myself with
there was the blood i was suppose
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
you're wearing isadora's scarvesoh, i hope you never love me, satyr-girl.
misanthropic mistress, i am coughing up
crows & bleeding blue beneath pocked
vessels; these worn teeth may be ink-
cavities, but i have never been your poet boy.
3:00amThere's always fear amidst his joy,
a little voice in the back of his head,
warning him of everything that might go wrong.
Yet, the nightly ghosts and the monsters
who lurk and scratch the floor under her bed,
were just the myths of a man who
wanted an excuse to hold her each night.
He doesn't think like this anymore,
he lies awake and ponders as the shadows
sway in their tribal dance along the walls,
and wholeheartedly hopes, that they
will rip a frustrated scream out of his throat
one that's loud enough to conceal the nagging voice.
"Oh my boy, haven't I warned you?
Love is a sin, don't come near
fairy-tales are only meant for books,
but you dove right in, driven by a foolish need.
You've tasted the bitter end of a blade
roles switched, now you're the monster she fears."
"She says your smile is beautiful,
like a sun shining so bright, a strength through your pain,
yet she fails to see the poisonous thorns
you nurtured with treason and grudge.
She doesn't know
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
ScarsI can be your best friend
and your darkest secret.
I can cause happiness
while causing great pain.
I can be obvious and scream on you body
or silent and hide in your mind.
I thrive in trauma and fear
then drown in compassion and comfort
Over time I will vanish
but I will never go away
You will always be my victim.
every second of every day.
For I am your scars
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More