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Where I'm FromWhere I'm From
I am from piggyback rides
And the fluffy stuffed animals that covered my bedroom floor.
I am from the messy sandcastles and slippery slides at Mason Park, Where I jumped from rock to rock.
I'm from that distasteful lake odor,
Where I tossed small pieces of bread into the water for the birds to eat.
I'm from the young, soft tabby cat
That once sat in my warm lap.
I am from the artistic hands,
That were passed down to me from my Great Grandpa Frank.
I'm from the completed books that I tossed in my opposite direction.
I am from the woody, aging trees
Whose branches I used to hang on.
I'm from the screaming,
The horrifying threats that awaited me at home
From my intimidating mother.
I am from the green Toyota,
That was sold for money to pay the bills.
I'm from covering my ears,
From closing my eyes,
Wishing this was all a dream.
I am from those moments
All the cherished memories fading away
Blown away in the fall wind.
Don't Pass the PepperPrologue
I ran passed her and stared at the backyard. I could have been there to save you. I thought. I could have scared them off. You could still be around. But there are no "I could haves." Because he's gone and there's nothing I can do to change it.
I stood in front of my rusty gate, staring at my battered tennis shoes. Usually I wouldn't hesitate to open the gate, but today was different.
The living room, a black TV screen, made no sound. My eyes, as blind as a bat, could not make out the furniture. The air, ensnaring me in an icy grip, made me shiver. Then a voice, barely audible to hear, broke the silence.
"I'll check the corpse to see if the cat is ours," the voice uttered, as if it was reciting a speech at a funeral.
Everything was soundless, as if there was a burglar in the house
The gate creaked loudly. Facing the gate, my hands clasped my side. My heart beat fast all of the sudden, as if I was watching a horror movie. My toes curled inward, hiding th
The Silent SufferersMany people out there treat them badly.
Many people viciously murdering them.
It's a waste, you know,
'Cause they love you no matter what
No matter what you wear,
No matter the amount of money in your pocket,
No matter how beautiful you are,
No matter if you have any neurological disorders,
You could be the poorest and most hopeless person in the world and they will still love you.
These beings are animals,
God's gift to this selfish, messed up world.
You know about those poor puppies thrown in dumpsters?
Abused by those ignorant, sick and twisted people that don't have a word to describe how awful they are!
(You know who you are!)
It's stuck there, scarred on both the inside and outside,
Left to rot and suffer.
It sits there, death slowly overpowering its life,
Wondering what it did to deserve this.
Millions of dogs and cats are put to sleep, you know.
That wouldn't happen,
There might not even be animal shelters,
If we all actually gave a damn!
If we all loved them
Will You Marry MeYour face is smooth
like the edge of a freshly wiped blade
Your skin is warm
like teardrops in a steel morgue
Your hands are soft
like linen sheets over pale, cool remains
Your hair falls to your shoulders
with the accuracy of a weighty noose
Your stride is as confident
as a blood-spattered Gladiator
Your legs send my heart
into a state of hysteria with an assassin's efficiency
Never have I wanted so badly
something so fearsome
Now tell me, my darling,
Love and LossIn these bright blue depths
Swimming with mystery
Memory upon memory
Rising to the surface
As I look into your eyes.
Deep in our history,
Each kiss bringing us closer
To the true definition of love.
Spiritual; our bodies and minds united
The morning light our only hindrance
The only shadow to our happiness.
But now as we stand face to face,
Our mutual presence
Sparking the same images to appear,
The same lines to be heard
In our pained minds
Old, forgotten words
Meaningless to others
But send us into a different world
A world devoid of happiness
A world filled with misery
Half of my heart aching in longing
Convincing my mind
That we were made for each other.
The other half crying out
Trying to be heard
Over the passion of the other.
Wary and cautious;
Urging me to step backwards
And seek out
What drew us apart
All those years ago.
Time Gone PastIt seems the more and more we think
the further and further we stray off track
from what we really want from our life,
and what we truly lack.
We regard the sadness, and lay waste to joy
and string emotion as if a toy
as a metaphor unleashed for hate
shan't we stop before it's to late?
Perhaps it is,
perhaps it has been for quite sometime.
Perhaps we've lost what it means to be us.
Perhaps we've lost our simplicity and sublime.
The past love for each other exists no more,
no more than a myth or a legend of history.
No more can we consider ourselves different
in this galaxy full and full of mystery.
The trees attempt to teach us their knowings
as the grass aids in the process.
The water cries in agony along with the wind
but could we care any less?
Technology runs our every thought
from the set of the sun to the domination of Moon.
Lost track of the entity of time
creates an unwanted death too soon.
For what we do is not live
What we do is not being alive.
For being alive is the act of
Little GirlYou saw me,
Broken under the tree.
I sat alone,
Trying to be my own person.
Trying to live without a crutch.
But I guess you looked through me,
And saw the broken little girl I am.
I wish you hadn't scooped me up.
I wish you hadn't started caring for me.
I wish I hadn't cared for you.
You saw me cry.
You didn't know how much baggage I carried.
What I had,
You could never deal with.
The baggage I carry,
Needs someone to be around all the time.
I've been neglected.
Ive been lied to.
Ive been left out on the street to fend for myself.
Ive been left to fight other peoples battles.
I just want to be my own person.
I want to not hurt anymore.
If you see me sitting under that tree,
Don't come up,
And try to save me.
You would be trying to win a losing battle.
FriendFinally I can see
Really see your heart
It is so big and beautiful
Even with all your defects
No one can replace you
Don't ever change
Dear SocietyPaint me over.
With your words, your rules, your regulations;
Your policies, contracts,your abominations.
With your lies, judgments, sins,infatuations;
Your hate, your order, your secret combinations.
Stifle creativity, unravel joy,
Throw around common sense
Like it's just a toy.
Redefine our limits, standards,
Color outside the lines.
You are in charge, not those who designed you,
So go ahead and polish 'til you shine.
Once you've gone and had your fun,
You'll be completely smooth.
Of course, it's better for everyone,
No ugly semblance of truth.
It'll be just as Montag said,
Nothing to bother us.
Nothing to hinder us.
So I'm just here to say:
I'm done fighting you.
I don't want to anymore.
So I'm giving you permission.
You can wipe me across the floor.
After all, I'm just an air bubble,
Standing between you and total control.
I'll just sit back as you crush me,
Watching society take its own toll.
Don't You Know?Don't you know that you're taking her for granted?
She's not going to be there for you for long if you're never there for her
Why don't you call her every once in a while, see if she's okay
She'll appreciate it more than you think
Show her that you truly love her, tell her she's your everything
Just prove to her that she means something to you
'Cause right now she may feel unappreciated
Right now she may feel useless
So prove to her that she's special
Prove to her that she's the only one for you
'Cause you could be slowly losing her
While you spend your time doing nothing
Meet up with her every once in a while
Before she walks away
'Cause once she walks away
She's never coming back.
Writer's BlockA writer's block is something nobody can bear,
That's the truth, that I swear.
We all have a specific goal that we write for,
Even if it sometimes start to feel like a chore.
When our minds are shrouded and we can't think clear,
That's perfectly normal have no fear.
We might not be able to write about the things we like,
Then sometimes the most brilliant inspiration will strike.
Until we get inspired we should practice writing more,
Even if it's just a simple story about how you went to a store.
We must broaden our horizons for new themes and such,
Maybe we find a subject for which we have a special touch.
So prepare for your inspiration to come,
Or else you cannot put it to words and that is no fun.
What is Love?
It isn't the size of her breasts
Nor is it the way you dress
Love isn't your wealth
Love isn't the jerk
Love isn't sex
Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is when you'll be there for him
Love is when you'll stay by his side
Love is when you'll spend eternity with him
Love is when you'll die for him
Love is to love
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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