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StarvedThere was a soft un-tucked tethering in her brain,
a wallowing that gave sound to the bitter symphony silencing her elusive twitches, which no one seemed to notice. She breathed in stale air, and tasted remorse. Not for anyone she knew, but herself.
And the thing was, she didn't know herself anymore.
It was just past 10:00, too early to sleep and too late to grumble down the streets, her bag tossed over her shoulder, still shaking without her fix. The nearest gas station was closed and it was over an hour walk to the closest open one. Cigarettes were the closest thing to speed, and she wasn't close enough to get that deal anyway. All the pill-dealers knocked out on their recent swing of high-indulged habits. This wasn't enough.
Luckily, for her, there was a brand new cartridge in her purse.
A set of steel, sharp shattered razor blades.
Close enough to a speed induced high as she could get,
and far more dangerous.
She took a round about, spun on her heel, and let the light from the post
Boyfriends who were never thereMy worst fear was saying I love you,
knowing that someone has the power to take those words and twist them into something sinister and bold.
And when I crossed over that bridge, I feared for you leaving.
It is 3 months after I stopped being afraid,
and the worst thing has become of us.
You don't care if I leave or if I stay.
So we sit on opposite sides of the town,
with everything to say but no words being exchanged,
and I worry for the love you once said you had,
and the promises you gave me.
I've done everything you asked me to.
But you still don't love me.
Spontaneous MeThere is this thing in the center of my spine, sucking secretly, the life from me.
It harbors, hollowing the bone, and while I dream at night,
I dream of that winter gray water tower, on Senseny Rd.
You gave me my power, pushing it up and out, my stomach and my throat. I gagged on a prison before you opened its cells.
I didn't know what this was. A rebound, relapse. Something to relax.
I was 300 miles away,
in the dark,
in the rain.
He drove up, parked the Cherokee, and yelled me by name.
I shivered off my outer layer,
the part you gave me,
and asked when he reached for my shoulder,
why he was touching me.
He pursed, growled, and bit.
And you were no where to be found.
Four days later,
I got a stronger taste,
ice cold in April,
and you didn't warm
I pushed out the power, grounded myself on you.
You who taught me to be patient,
quiet, and loving.
The exact opposite of everything
I am a birdi've been chasing stars for four years counting,
the harbor pulling me in before i even knew what the ocean looked like.
now that i'm here, all i want is to chase the Appalachian mountains,
climb the mighty trees.
they say God lives in the woods, and his song is heard through the wind.
so i write my prayers at night, singing back, play it for me, please.
i am a pigeon,
i am a goose,
my chin held up high, my neck baring blows.
i am a raven,
breathing heavily at night, words leak down the pages.
i stretch my wings, form a shape of a triangle
where secrets etch the surface,
midnight sea claiming lives too bold.
i am a seagull, screaming with the howling wind; hear my call.
i fight in flight,
with the stars in the sky, blown up against the night air, brushed up gracefully in dark contrast, silver against black, the frosty clouds provide the obvious.
i am a bird, singing for the morning,
breathing for the night.
Kid with a sob storyyou were sixteen and you used to call me kid, like i was the one who needed to grow up, not you.
well now i'm eighteen, and you're nineteen and i guarantee that i'm way ahead of you on every aspect.
so when you got engaged to the same girl i was so jealous of the first time, and i realized you were an actual human being with actual feelings, i didn't get angry, i got numb with content.
you were sixteen when you took the best year of my life,
lonely girl at fourteen, heartbroken for a year, and ready to give up everything important to someone who certainly didn't deserve it.
i look back, read the words i screamed at night and realize,
shit could have been so much worse.
and i realize, you were sixteen, barely past being a kid, yourself.
well now i'm eighteen, and you're nineteen and you're probably playing tricks for steady living, and i'm busting my ass seven days a week,
clean, honest, minimum wage, two jobs, at eighteen.
call me a kid.
Visibleit is sad to say
in the least that it is 2:00
in the morning and
i still don't know your
name, but the color of your
eyes and the deep soul
drives me up the wall at night
and i have nightmares.
PassageI don't know if I am weak for forcing myself to forget, and say good-bye, or if I am strong enough for staying alive.
There is a silent rule in my family that when bad things occur, we just don't talk about it. If you can give me a reason other than the emotional capacity of my family is at level 0, I'll consider it. Other than that though, we stay silent. I think this is the reason I became a vulture for trauma.
I've heard there are ways the brain automatically deals with trauma. And usually, people who experience trauma in their lives, the ones who deal with it unsuccessfully, end up with some other mental illness.
Somehow I ended up with an on again off again suicidal, angry depression harboring in my rib-cage.
Regardless, the first stage of trauma I ever went through was when I was barely two years old. My mom's boyfriend, Robert, an abusive fucker, beat the hell out of her constantly. I don't know what demons he possessed, but they were strong enough to persuade him that hitting h
FallingWhen we broke up the first time
I compared you to every boy I'd ever deemed important.
Why you were better than every one.
Why you were worse than every one.
When the second time came around,
I stopped asking questions,
and just reflected on how different you are now
You don't see you the way I do,
just like I don't see me the same way.
You've grown so much,
that same insecure devoid of emotion boy,
hiding through distractions,
same as me.
I stopped being so insecure,
stopped blaming everyone else,
stopped being afraid of feeling
and stopped hiding.
You were my revelation
to all the lies, and all the secrets I held in.
And I don't know,
but I hope that anger you hold means the same thing.
NightAm I destined to share the same fate,
turning wheels, rocket to the moon dreaming?
She kissed the space below my wrist,
a tribute, to remember her when she's gone.
I breathed in that soft scent,
floral shampoo, but not hers.
She wants me to stick around long enough
to indulge in her own shampoo,
this one borrowed.
If I have to wake up every morning
wishing she were here for a
lifetime of her being there,
I hope I make the cut.
I am night, casually running my fingers through
golden hair in my dreams.
I am most alive when it is 2:00 am
and you aren't here.
Tell me what it takes to be there,
300 miles away.
I am a bird, feathers outstretched towards
home, head north till the sun breaks the sky above.
No more level with earth sunsets,
no more ocean water ricocheting my dreams.
Wait on me;
when you're sleeping,
know I am night.
Death isn't a fresh perspectiveI saw my mother
swallowing something small
when I was just a child
The anguish in her eyes
faded, as she told me
it was just a
with a little extra kick
maybe years later,
that's how I convinced
to swallow fifteen,
give me a fresh perspective;
in the end,
my breath reeked
instead of mint.
Our Captain (Robin Williams Remembrance Poem)Oh, Captain
We’ve never had,
A Friend like You.
You came to us as an Alien,
from the Planet Ork.
But through the Years,
You made Home in Our Hearts
We Saluted You over the Airwaves
We Watched You get Sucked in a Game,
And Haul Your Family in the Big Rolling Turd.
You were a British Nanny,
Who was actually their Dad.
A Business Man,
Who was actually Peter Pan.
A Crazy Scientist,
Making a Being called Flubber.
Who Just Wanted to be Free.
You were a Robot,
Made of Rusty Old Parts.
We’ve never had,
A Friend like You.
You became the Man of the Year,
And the Wax Figurine Exhibit
Of the Twenty-Sixth President
Of the United States of America.
You Were the World’s Greatest Dad,
And the World’s Greatest Therapist.
You Had a License to Wed
And be a Kid,
Who Grew Up Four Times Too Fast.
You only Won One Oscar.
But that’s okay.
We Love all Your Other Works Anyways…
We Will Miss You
fall in love with (splitting hairline fractures)we swallow blues instead
of talking them out. oh,
kids like us are specters,
spectacles: boys counting
rib(cage)s & (de)composing
don't you hate
is a vessel
we're deities or tomb-raiders; no
in-betweens for writers these days
Dark SideThere's another side of me
A side I barely show
It's my dark side
And my pride
The time I showed it to my friends
They were shocked, worried
I will tell you what they said
Decide for me
If these are what you call
One said 'just be happy'
One said 'that isn't true!'
One said ' but I've got it much worse'
One said 'don't be annoying'
One said nothing at all
Only One listened
That could be you
This is my dark side
The one that tells the truth
It makes me write
It keeps my dreams
It is everything I have
But no one knows
DoormatI let you walk
All over me
Like the floor
Beneath your feet
And I never complain
The floor doesn't
If the floor complained
When you walked on it
You would be very annoyed
And you would probably
So I don't complain
Because I don't want
To be replaced
And I let you
Push me around
Like a cart
Through a shop
And I never push back
The cart doesn't
If the cart pushed back
When you pushed it
You would get hurt
And you would probably
So I don't push back
Because I don't want
To be left alone
Now, and forever more
Who lets you
Wipe your feet on my face
I love you
But I question
If you love me back
Because who would love
A dirty old Doormat?
I died todayI died today
Took my own life
I was tired
I was desperate
And now I'm dead
People never cared
So I left them behind
Now a new life awaits
Beyond the gates of Hell
SkinnyI wish you'd believe me,
When I tell you you're pretty,
That you don't need to skip a meal or run 7 miles,
Just so you can be skinny,
You talk about how you hate yourself,
You wish you could be stunning, beautiful, gorgeous.
You think that if you looked like a model,
That you'd never be lonely,
Everyone would love you.
You think you d get that guy you ve been dreaming of,
Maybe mommy and daddy wouldn't be so harsh if they had a pretty little girl.
You re skin and bone,
But that is not good enough,
You need less and less,
And every pound that disappears,
You begin to lose yourself in a vicious cycle.
Until you re consumed and it eats away at you.
I beg you to listen to me,
I want you to know that you mean everything,
But you don't care,
And then when the ambulances came,
And carried you away...
There was nothing more I could say...
I guess you were unaware,
That you were already beautiful.
each kiss carries
context and content,
sad eyes pour into mine
like a swimming pool
being filled with angels’ tears.
i cup her face in my hands,
trying to hold all of the water
that escapes her
as i gently kiss her forehead.
i will cradle her cerebrum
and maintain our composure.
i will protect you.
refers to the hands on a clock,
as well as the anatomical.
and this kiss is subtle,
but it represents our passing of time.
i started this with my mother at 13,
and only a few embraces away from 18.
with our fingers locking
themselves to adolescence.
i never have visibly blushed,
but i swear my flushed cheek
burned where your left your lips
for nearly a lifetime.
at least that’s what it felt like.
i kissed the blinds
that covered the windows
of your soul
to let you know
the sun still shone
even if your eyes were close
She never made it homeThere's something very fascinating about the change of wind. It doesn't brush up against her cheeks in an attempt to knock her to the cold cracked pavement, it's instead lingering around her frame and giving her a reason to push forward. All she wants is to be alone.
The lights stack up, repeatedly blinding her from the two feet that cross paths, make a path for her. The funny thing, for a situation like this where running for such a long time kills her, she feels like it's almost worth bursting her lungs. It's almost worth it if it means never looking back and never giving in.
The streetlights are lining up and lighting the way for her but all they really do is cause shadows and she's more afraid of admitting that she's frightened than she is frightened at all. Up, ahead she sees the flashing of the police come to drag her where nightmares never end and sleep is always impossible. She can't go back, she just
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More