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And I can't do anything to help themThe girl I love takes pills to smile,
she thinks she needs them to stay alive.
She despises the colour of her eyes,
she hates the way she looks when she glances in her mirror.
Oh dear God up above,
I know you're there,
and I don't believe you care,
about the suffering going on below the surface of your clouds.
My best friend hates the way she looks,
she thinks she's fat.
She wants to be beautiful,
but the only way to be is to realize that she already is.
I know a girl who blames herself,
for her mother running away.
She takes it out upon herself,
with her own words without anyone to help her put up a fight.
And as the world crashes down on them,
I can only pretend that I am strong,
and that I don't want to break myself as well.
The joke is that I sometimes feel as when I look at them,
that I'm looking right back at myself.
.And I can still remember how we first met,
and I'd give all I got to bet,
you can't remember that.
I'm so fucking stupid,
to think you'd ever really love me.
SalanderThe girl with depressing eyes and skin as cold as ice that through her clenched jaws and teeth she lies about what she thinks about before she sleeps and believes that anyone who says she is not okay deserves to be fought back against.
When she is thought of as weak she lashes out against the one who dares make the mistake to say so.
The girl with the dragons luck dancing on her skin and a tongue like a wasps sting, with a trait that most would take for granted she takes on as a burden, a curse.
I think you're addicted to the attention.My friend is diagnosed
with clinical depression.
She only comes to school
every other day.
She used to nick
her wrists to the colour of roses
and they were
just as delicate.
She always starts to cry
at a quarter to one.
Her boyfriend says
he cried with her the other day.
When she drops to
I know she took so much more
than two pills today.
And I asked her
what has happened
and she has
I ask again
because I needed to know
what possessed her
to try again.
She looked at me
with a small smile
she didn't want to go to class today.
Bird CageAnd as I'm stuck on the wrong side of wrought iron gates,
clipped feathers once upon my back litter the floor.
Why are others trying to destroy me?
And I think it's because I have something that beautiful,
something that kept me free,
until the jealousy of others has now kept me chained to the floor.
But however, I do not think they can take away my voice,
how would they go about that anyways?
Muzzle someone with drugs who is not rabid with hate?
And I begin to realize that I cannot get through life without consequences,
I may be free to sing,
but I am without my wings.
MaybeAnd maybe if I keep writing she'll figure it out.
Maybe it will click after reading everything I wrote in the past, and after remembering everything I've said to her.
I don't know, maybe if I say 'I love you' to her one more time, she'll realize I'm being serious..
Because I've never said that to anyone else.
It's a habit nowCigarette burns and drunken words,
the drugs can never kill me.
Problems and slammed doors are piercing the static,
and I can't tell if it's a relief or if it's time to panic.
Poisoned hearts from alcohol,
needles for the stress.
I want to feel better,
but it's all making me want to burn my white dress.
Bruises and broken bones are now my norm,
with whip lashes upon my pride.
I just want bleed myself out,
through hatred and tears.
Bullets shot from the sidelines,
from bystanders with nothing to prove.
The anesthetics are fading,
and I'm starting to come to my senses.
I am a MouseI am a mouse.
I am quiet, I am nothing.
I am a book that nobody has read.
I am an eclipsed sun and a cloaked moon.
I am irrelevant and unwanted, a broken toy in an attic.
I am the dust in your rear-view mirror that you leave behind.
I am the air that you breathe in and spit out as something different.
I am the palest white. I am the darkest black. I am the dullest, emptiest grey.
I am the old man with forgotten memories and the baby who has yet to make them.
I am a forgotten word, dangling on the tip of your tongue, hanging on the noose of your lips.
I am a dried up stream. I am a felled forest. I am an abandoned cornucopia of resolute nothingness.
And there is Hell burning in my eyes.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
A void within meAlone on this inhospitable night, once again
I let my memories guide my lost steps,
Wandering amid the ghosts of my past.
As I walk along the quay,
I stare at the feeble Seine flowing:
She's dying by the street lamps' hands
While the whole city asphyxiates.
Reflecting my own lack of humanity
Over the river's lighted surface,
Griefs come and go at the water's rhythm.
Once again, on this breathtaking night,
My feelings are sealed and my chest hollow.
Purple rain, chills of cold.... Or regret? I crave
My musical drug, my remaining salvation,
Spreading a sweet poison within me and
Eroding the remaining happiness I still have.
I plug my headphones...
A grin of relief appears on my weary face,
I flee to lenient lands, where a familiar Angel tucks me in.
These notes of violin split the immutable silence,
Fill the hole in, lit a bonfire to my soul.
This mermaid sings my dreams to me,
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
The PointIt’s the taste of cake mix on the spoon, that first time you ‘help’ bake a cake.
It’s seeing the bright world afresh after a dark nightmare, when you first wake.
It’s when you make them laugh and, in that moment, everyone loves a clown.
It’s when your heart stops before the roller coaster plummets down, down.
It’s when the lights go out before your favourite band plays and you scream.
It’s that moment you look around and everything’s perfect enough to be a dream.
It’s the anticipation of waiting for a new episode of your favourite television show.
It’s the first time you listen to your favourite record and you just sort of know.
It’s reading a book cover-to-cover and a million times more and still crying at the ending.
It’s the stiff, tight, real feeling of a smiling scab as you watch the wound mending.
It’s when you first meet your best friend and you hate each other (but in a good way).
I am sorry (for not leaving soon enough)Hey there, my beauty, I'm sorry, but it's time for us to part ways.
I love you, so dearly, but darling, you are growing more distant every day..
Or is it I?
I love you, the way you love your prince, okay?
Hey now, I'm sorry, but really, there is no way for you to love me like I love you.
Wait now, please don't cry, I'm broken, but you are strong and you are mighty, more than I can be for you.
I'm worth the dirt on the bottom of your worn shoes, old from your wonderful travels.
you are an uncut diamond, but I still manage to get under your skin.
You are my sun, with your ferocious personality,
you are my stars, shining bright against the dark,
you are my moon hanging low above the sea..
it's just that you're just worth so much to me..
And I can't bear the fact that if I stick around any longer that I will eventually hurt you,
and therefore hurting me.
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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