|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
StayTattered clips of sunny smiles
strewn about throughout the aisles,
tipped and spilled to much dismay
those memories of yesterday.
Volunteered upon this path
oblivious to the aftermath,
the possibility it seemed
of failure was an absurd dream.
Torn from the ground we built upon
moonlight burned the summer song,
undermined the very heart
of the bedrock where we saw it start.
Winter caused the soul to say
an audible wish for a different day,
Without the strength to go away
it's come to this so here we stay.
DoomThe "End" will not
reign down from above,
it will explode from inside
as a micro-apocalyptic
self inflicted doom.
we never had to
journey through the
darkness of our souls,
how on Earth
would we ever see
of impending final
going now to meet my fate.
SeamsOne at a time
so carefully placed,
the bricks that built
my hiding place.
Each one mortared
with tears and pain,
So tall the walls
inside I stay,
to leave one day.
The story of my life is here
engraved in stone
When times are tough
I count the marks
that scar the seams
around my heart.
With better days
I see the light,
to venture out,
I bury the fright.
The fabric of my soul
with salt from tears
and blood from pain.
so far and few,
the torment strangles
the child I knew.
He hides inside
and trusts in me
to show him the way
Too many times
an ill wind blows,
these walls I know.
My courage grows stronger
with each new sunrise,
I repair my sanctum
and return inside.
Time will heal
but the hardest trick,
is the daily rebuilding,
brick by brick.
of solid beams
their fragile seams.
Flung into the air
Not of metal
or of wood
from no structure
where they stood,
the origin of
flew from you
as guided words.
AwayCount the strings
before they snap,
tied to my heart
the strands of burlap.
Sift through the threads
of my fibrous being,
like the essence
of an eloquent lacing.
Number the lines
of corded rope
holding the last
true vestige of hope.
Score the miles
between you and I
short in distance
but high as the sky.
TwinkleThe gift of life
so precious and brief,
gives off a light
a soul can see.
the eyes of another,
the answer there
within you will discover.
The light that shines
in the eyes of a life,
twinkles like a star
in the wonder of the night.
A magical spark
that gives no hue,
simply showing off
the life in you.
The opposite is
an ashen blue,
the end of a life
its secret clue.
It's the color of the sky
with a gathered haze,
not deep and blue
but cold and grey.
You see it with love
when you look in the eyes,
of souls that are ending
their journey through life.
I looked into your eyes today
and I did not see the sky,
I feel a sense of calm relief
It's still the stars I see.
I would've been.I would've been a masterpiece if it wasn't for the tear,
I don't know why I tell you this, it's not like you care.
I would've been a legend if it wasn't for the time,
Age of heroes has come and gone, all I can do now is rhyme.
I would've made something of myself, if I'd had the motivation,
But now, I just lie in wait, awaiting even more degradation.
I could've been someone, or something, I know I could,
But right now, it's all talk, all "Could, should, would."
Then there's that "if" or that "but" getting in the way,
I could've been a masterpiece, but here I am, rotting away.
No one even gives me a second glance,
I'm not a famous one like Rembrandt's.
I could've been a masterpiece if it wasn't for the tear,
If only the people looking after me had taken more care,
I could've been perfect, and remembered forever,
But now I am just a portrait, of the Forgotten Reaper.
Broken TrustTrust is something fragile
Once you break it
It is hard to get back again
Just like the softest rose petals
That withers and dies
Or the stem of that gentle rose
Once it snaps you can
Never get it back
You sit there and watch it
Then you look at that person
With jaded eyes
Looking at them
With the emptiness you feel inside
Knowing it will never be the same
Wondering if you truly knew
Them at all
DepressionAnother useless morning dawns,
Another tiresome creature yawns.
Lost I am in the depth of thought,
People can't see the battle I've fought.
My scars are hidden by a harden face,
No smile has been found, I have no grace.
I look upon the work I've done,
And find that it is helpful to all of none.
I hate the flesh I'm bound to,
The words I weave I do but rue.
Rueful and spiteful I wish to cry,
But no tears will help me on the inside.
Who will help me to live without pain?
Will anyone try to keep me sane?
Am I lost to the grave?
Just Another DayJust another Day
I try not to cry, though my eyes burn,
Fighting for air, as my chest tightens up,
Needing to scream, yet nothing comes out,
I ache inside, but I don't complain,
It's just another day, of my life,
So what is left to say?
Now I shall end this, morbid poem,
Crawling back into my shell,
And get my emotions under control,
I will look at you, once more with a smile,
So you won't see all that I hide inside,
Well Darn, There Goes My PlanFunny this life we live, there is so much more to see.
The heavens above, filled with no love,
The moon in the sky, larger then you or I.
Can't you see it, the size of it all?
We are ants infesting a house,
A flea eating a mouse.
Where will we be in a few hundred years?
Will we be in tiny boxes living useless fears?
Will we be in the ground, never to be found?
Will you be remembered, for who you use to be?
Perhaps by a few, but never truly by me,
For how am I to know, someone I've never seen?
Time has flown by, it's to late for you and me.
Why do you live, when time will soon blink,
and you will be gone, faster then you think?
Just Because...Just because she seems so strong doesn't mean she didn't go to sleep crying, even if you see no problems, doesn't mean she's not hiding. You might think she's happy and honest; inside she's lying and broken. She knows it's the real world and things will fall apart, when the people you know become the people you knew, when you can walk right past someone like they were never the biggest part of your life, she knows that everything changes.
The sun will rise and set, and she needs to remember at times like this that even when it's below the horizon, the moon is shining and it is always there when the sun goes away, that it takes a lifetime to live and a second to die, and every moment should be treasured. We sleep until the next day, yet wake up to remember yesterday, we hold it all in our memory but sometimes it's good to forget and smile.
Sometimes she needs a hand to hold, and that's why there are spaces in between our fingers, so we can give that comf
UnansweredWhy do the wounded favor their wounds,
And the healed preach of wonder?
Why do stinging eyes fill with tears,
When all they want is slumber?
Why does illness fester with infection,
When it just wants a home?
Why do mothers fight in protection,
If their child will live alone?
Why does man destroy the Earth,
When he wants to live happy?
And why does the parasite cling to it's host,
Just to die from it's insanity?
Tears From Nightmareswhen I dried my eyes
and looked at the towel
it came away red
soaked in blood like bathwater
when I noticed
oh how I screamed
my voice echoing back
like I was atop a mountain
only I was in my room
just woke up like normal
brushed my teeth like usual
washed my face like always
apparently my nightmares got me bleeding tears.
Healing HugsLaying in the bed,
I listen to the moans.
The sound of the dying.
The shadows hide me,
So I can be alone.
Try to take care of myself.
To get myself back to my feet.
It's not a sickness,
or a wound,
But a blow to the heart.
The shattered hearts laying on the floor,
surrounded by the pieces of souls.
Tread on by the visitors,
Only caring about their own.
I watch the world go by,
As I lay here,
Frozen in time.
Ever since you broke my heart.
Waiting for Time to heal me,
But she passes by everyday.
Sometimes stabbing me along the way.
I cried out for help,
But most just went on their way.
Not wanting to see another cripple.
Hindered by his heart.
There are, however, a few,
Angels in disguise.
The healers of many and the breaker of few.
She helped me fix myself,
With a healing hug,
She patched together my life.
And sent me on my way.
With a promise to be waiting,
If I ever need a healing hug again.
BlinkThe turn of a head,
a moment in time,
so fragile the true,
length of a life.
but unable to be,
compared to any other
Metered out in such a way,
no one knows their final day,
the moment of the curtain call,
inevitable to all.
So many breathes,
how many beats?
When will I sleep,
between the white sheets?
The answer it seems
is just out of reach,
In a fraction of a second,
it could all be gone,
eyes wide open,
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
Keep in Touch!
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