|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
a little broken
anger past restaint
highschooltime flys by
nobody looks you in the eye
i stare at them
they stare at you
a glare, a sideways glance
like trapped mice
these are our lives.
Achei stare at your picture, and i swear your eyes are staring back.
but instead of the joy you brought me, your gaze brings me back.
back to that day, back to the hour.
it replays in my head, i tell it to stop.
inside im screaming, i cant get past this block.
i close my eyes, holding back the tears.
your voice fills my head, an accusing fume.
you yell, and scream, inside i shy away hiding from the sound.
i listen to what i think you should have said.
to what my mind says is right.
i curl up, my arms holding myself tight.
my head filled with a fight between me and myself.
you'll win, your voice is right.
i open my eyes, your face is still there.
though you are not, it still raises my hair.
i blink once and you are gone, a figment of my imagination.
a daydream gone wrong.
i turn back to what i was doing, ignoring my heart.
ignoring the guilt.
like i should have done from the start.
CagedBrilliant wings locked up tight
No longer able to take flight
Colorfull minds gone black and white
Sweet Sing of Your SecretsDarkness befalls beautiful gardens pray tell your secrets;
How your blossoms grow
Deep and rich is the reddest rose; the thorns give deadly blows
Petals of blood sing to me drawing me in
Grasp tightens sweet red covering my hands
The darkness not tells of its glory
I feel no pain
Fallen nothing but darkness, and my garden
Drawing me deeper in subconscious letting go
My dear garden pray tell your secrets
How your blossoms grow
Flowers DelacasyGlass wings catch wind
playing with light
swiftly gliding through the air
drifting down to a rose
beware the thorns
Beauty Fallssurrounding pain in shadows
a dark lady falls quietly into the shadows; the folds of her gown cascading in waterfalls of velvet...
rivers of black trail down her porcelain face;
her mascara betray her emotions
no escape...endless sorrow and remorse
long stemmed rose at hand... beauty in simplest form
even beauty betray;
devilish thorns prick white gloved hands...
red anger seeping to the surface..
unseen in darkness... shadows fall...
MockingbirdSilenced cries trapped inside
Pressed against pale lips now bind
Peer through unseeing eyes
To the trauma that lay behind
Shattered mirrors reflect no past
Memories too good to last
Weak struggles to survive
Falls to the mockingbirds lullaby
Being Humanmy actions are finally lining up with my words
but the line i walk as i take the actions that will define me is very thin
walking along either side of an edge
to balance my life along those very edges can sometimes push me to the brink
but to the brink of what?
is it insanity?is it a full surrender to the process of change?
does it make me less of a man to tell you im afraid?
does it make me more of a man to pound you into dust until you fear me?
the question isint what makes me a man?
because the answer is im a human being,its just that simple
i feel pain,i feel love,i hurt,i feel joy,i feel everything
and that makes me perfectly human,no more or no less of a man
when i was brought into this world i was a baby
we should all consider ourselves children
they are the most human of us all
they love unconditionally,they express themselves without fear of judgement
because nobody has conditioned them to fear being that human
are we brave enough to have the courage of a child?
they will look
The Prince of MarsOn the bare mattress, he trembles;
praying for his white knight to come back.
Devoured by the very thing he consumes,
his disposition now mimics the windows he's painted black.
No sunlight does he ever permit,
for it invokes the mischievous shadows that challenges his fight.
All reflections he forbids,
for fear of the stranger that triggers his fright.
The insatiable hunger makes him devoid of deference,
and he's willing to sell everything he owns.
All this for the few hours of heaven,
that can be bought with precious stones.
Pure and DirtyMet a girl, told me she was pure -
Filled with hate,
for people she called dirty,
stained by past mistakes or joys.
Told her sex makes us
neither good nor bad,
that you should live not
for the misery of others,
but to be happy with yourself.
habituallyand thank goodness we wear paths
to our chosen art forms
while we're still young-
reaching adulthood means
carving ruts for ourselves
under the rickety wagon spokes
and packing them flat,
soiling the soles
of our wonder-washed feet.
Borrowed WordsI have often read the sparking souls of rare, bold men.
They have fed me pointed words
running red with blood
and thunder, staining
everything I've said, everything
I have. Often read the sparking souls of dead old men,
their flaming, spitting thoughts.
When your tightened lungs are stirred
fill your throat with coughing birds,
put your thought into an overwrought mouth as
I have, often. Read the sparking souls of dead old men,
the trolls in their cluttered dens
surrounded by the scrimshaw bones
of ravished brides, of wasted wives.
Soapbox words scrawled across the same bodies
I have often bled the hearkening souls of. Dead old men
have led the red, hungry eyes
of Rottweiler boys
for years as they tramped through
foyers,foam dressing their blackened lips.
We have often fed the snarling souls of dead, cold men,
gone to bed with hot coal men
with lead in their veins.
Their words are a well
the world knows too well.
Too often have I read the sparking souls of red-coal me
Night Sight SeeingYelling through a crowd
that you hate your parents
act like a deterrence
To the people clean
Writing things like me
Am I right in thinking
That this compulsive drinking
Wraps your mind
And straps you tight
To all of this
Is the light still flickering
In your eyes
As you pass out
Preceded by violent blinking?
Yeah I guess you're cool
Rolling around in
what you ate at school
I'm sure you'll feel it
When you check your pocket
And realize your about
£100 down you fool!
Is it money well spent?
I bet the girls think you're
A real gent
But do they care what you're like outside
Or just your generosity
Right here at the event?
They don't even know your name
All too familiar with your game
I've watched a few like you
Believe me, you all end up
Perfection is an Opinion -Just in case I miss you tomorrow
and never get the chance to say goodbye,
I would want you to know
that I've loved you every second, every minute,
every hour of every day,
and if I had the chance to meet you,
and got the chance to speak my mind,
I would tell you that you are perfect
and this is the reason why:
Perfection is based on the perspective of the world,
so let me tell you mine.
You don't have to be the best
and you don't even have to be in the top percent -
You're perfect just the way you are right now.
When you look in the mirror, I don't want you to see
that your hair is a mess or you have crooked teeth,
but that you're wild and free
and have a smile that shows the beauty beneath.
All of you is perfect, the fear and the doubt,
but if you ever doubt yourself
I'll continue to believe
that your future
can be whatever you want it to be,
so continue making the mistakes
that I wish I had made
when I had the chance,
when I was your age,
a lifetime and a half ago.
Picture ImperfectYour picture perfect smile,
Imprinted in my mind,
Your laugh ringing like a bell,
Makes me believe you're kind.
I used to think that you were different,
Nice, I thought you were,
But looking back, I can now see,
You're just the same as her.
They pretend they don't see that one.
Please tell me now,
What was a lie?
Why should I bother,
Why should I try?
Step on my feelings,
I wonder if you knew,
I may be mean sometimes,
But I am human too.
It's not even worth it,
Worth all this pain,
Because in the end,
There's nothing to gain.
Keep in Touch!
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