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Small Wordsi left my heart 300 miles away
in a town i hope to see again.
i hope you never leave again.
Secrets3 little secrets i never knew i had.
the sound of people casually mentioning drinking
sends my body into rifts,
and i start to physically gag.
if i can't cry, which believe me, i can't,
then i'm losing my edge to vomit.
traits i picked up from you.
my hands are cold 99% of the time.
but the warmth given from your jacket,
the only piece of you i own,
is a no-go zone.
i wear it over layers of clothing,
but my hands never graze the pockets,
for fear of remembering your hands once laid there too.
i want to drown myself in pills,
i've even taken the liberty to call up my dealer,
and snatch the razor from my purse,
bring it close to my skin.
but my addictions don't control me. and i found
something stronger. you are my new drug,
my new addiction,
and if i fail with my old ones
it means everything i stand for, and i stand for you,
will come crashing down.
Addictionsback in May, when we broke up. i filled my paper with words only about waiting.
every word, every lyric i wrote was motivation,
striving for the wrong man,
throwing myself full frontal in arms i couldn't hold.
you think it stopped when the pills stopped,
but today i called up my old habits,
gathered my strength,
remembered the high.
sometimes being strong is about admitting to yourself some sins are the cure.
i wear your jacket,
but i have a hidden rule.
my hands, as freezing as they are,
do not go in the pockets.
you may have worn the coat to your skin,
felt the warmth graze your flesh,
pulled the hood over sunshine hair,
but your hands,
they're the one thing i won't strive to reach.
so i keep my arms crossed,
and remember that warmth is just a few miles away.
there are things that are taboo.
you called me brutally honest once, and i'll carry that as the one compliment i care about,
more than beauty or intelligence, all the way to the grave.
well i'm struggling to be sober.
Barely Breathing.i try to forget
that living is a choice. i
fall short. here i go
again. these moments
i can't remember. i'm just
barely breathing now.
Love is for Perfect Girlswhen you are angry you write an angry poem,
flashing glares at glorified girls,
pretty princesses, their skin glows.
beauty queen at seventeen,
never before was that my identity.
the boys to me breathe empty lies.
promises, procrastinated. polished on the edge of teeth.
I love you.
everybody wants to fall in love,
fearless at such a young age,
history repeats itself.
i counted the boys on one hand,
each with the same story,
a different version.
one by one they opened up,
caught at the border,
boys breathing empty lies.
pretty girls, perky perfect beauty queens.
polished for a man who says I love you.
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More