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Sweet LilacDecember 25th
As I stroll through the gates, the chilly winter air stirs around my scarf and hair. How is it where you are? I suppose it isn't quite as cold. I have to double up on the layers, wearing a sweatshirt underneath my winter coat. It still has yet to snow here, though. I remember when we used to play in the snow. You loved throwing snowballs at my head until mom yelled at you.
The leaves still float down from the trees, as though they continue to hang on for dear life. How sweet it seems now. I used to watch you rake the leaves from the kitchen window, remember? I would be in the warm house, preparing hot cocoa for you when you finished. You like yours with lots of whipped cream and marshmallows, and even some cinnamon. I get mine like that now. I like to pretend I’m still sharing it with you.
The few stems of lilac in my hand quiver with the breeze. Mom told me they stand for joy of youth. I figured that would be per
Sinking Beneath the WavesIf I could sink beneath the waves
I perhaps would be rather content
For you see, the ships that sail above
Know nothing of the ocean itself
The deep blue waters are peaceful and relaxed
As the sailors and surfers would say
But I can sink beneath the waves
I know there is another story to tell
The foamy whitecaps that swirl above
They tell but another myth
That the ocean itself is just as what it seems to be
All water and no depth
But the blue sea cannot be clear
Or else the secrets would fall through
If you learn to sink beneath the waves
You’d know just how beautiful it is.
Inside, and out.
Lies.What are words to you
Nonsense scrawled across a page
A space filler of sorts
The hiding place for lies
Lies that you will not dare stain your tongue with.
Memories recorded down
Fingers stained in ink
The words you said
The promises you made
The lies you told
All of these locked deep within my heart
And in my brain I keep them
For they hide the bitter truth I dared not reach for
Though I could see it
The stains on my own fingers show not me
They show what you wanted me to be
Show what I tried to become
And what I could not master.
But these red stains will change
Will become what I am
And your own marks already show
They show the bitter truth of the false face you show
Of the tales you tell
Of the claims to innocence
And I will try and muster all of my courage
Just to prove my worth.
Little MockingbirdOh little mockingbird,
Please be strong
The other birds
They know the words
But won't sing along
Oh little mockingbird,
You haven't failed yet
Crow and dove
They fly above
There's no need to fret
Oh little mockingbird,
The skies are still blue
Though the eagle cries
The heron lies
And they laugh at you
Oh little mockingbird,
Your wings may be small
But you are bold
And you won't fall
So oh little mockingbird,
Please stay strong
The other birds
They know the words
So sing your sweet song
Shrouded by the shadows
A wispy veil enchanted with secrets
Hide my insecurities
It hides the fact
That my wingspan is too short
To reach my dreams
Icy black chills down my spine
The fears that have been creeping
Still out of sight.
HopeHope is nothing but a dream
Spun with silken stars under the twilight sky
Hope is nothing but fantasy
Sewn piece by piece of the fabrics of myth
Hope is nothing but lies
A blanket of falsehood
Only used for the sake
Of keeping our cold hearts
I, Too, Have a StoryI, too, can make stories
I can scribble them down
On loose sheets of notebook paper
My pencil in my hand
And I can form the words
Like a puzzle in my head
And piece them one by one
On the blank canvas in front of me
Not only for myself, but for readers
Readers all across the world
Pages turning and smiles forming
Inspiring those who read
Inspiring them to write
Just as I
They will understand what it means
To get your thoughts out to the world
I, too, have a story
Stunning SilverStunning silver stripes your skin
Red rivers flow and flee
The bitter tears taint you cheeks
As sorrowful sadness consumes your soul
Depressed thoughts deepen your doubts
Pleads and promises are in the past
Love, like lies, never last
CHIME Chapter 1CHIME
Lafayette has had enough. She sits on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest. She rests both her arms on her knees, and buries her face into them. She has been sitting like this for half an hour.
She lifts her head and looks in the mirror. She sees her pale, freckled face, stained with tears. Her long, jet black hair is tangled in a mess. The sleeves of her shirt are wet from her crying.
She wonders why it has to be like this. Why does she always feel so empty and sad inside? Why does everything have to go wrong? Why can’t she live a regular, peaceful, and happy life?
It all frustrates her. From her fighting parents, to being neglected and left alone by her friends, she can’t seem to find a shard of happiness left inside her fragile heart.
The teenage girl's eyes are weary from crying. Her throat aches and she coughs, only making
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).
california wintersthe tears
I rationed have all
run out. Tuesday comes
up behind me and steals
my breath; my cat snores.
she can’t sleep soundly
since she lost her seventh
life. I’m like that, I’m always
worried someone will try to steal
what I’ve already given away.
I miss color. newsprint sobs
washed me out. I am a
blank canvas, I am a faceless,
I am one
of you. I wake up sweating
and it’s winter and I can’t
sleep because my memories
follow me between my sheets;
jake still won’t listen.
we never knew we were the
lucky ones, we scarred, too. don’t
touch me. don’t want
me, don’t bare my bones
when you think I’m not
watching. I’m afraid of
myself. breathing loud
enough that others know
I exist; you follow me,
needing, laughing, it’s
a game. who has lost
the most, we all want
to win; I’m so tired, so scared,
there’s no one in the world
who sees me. I can’t cry.
we’re in a drought.
The Sounds Are ConfiningDarkness fills the space.
The fog pours in.
She feels like a waste.
Impossible to win.
A stab in the back.
A blow to the pride.
A soul painted black.
And nowhere to hide.
Happiness is torn.
Her heart is pounding.
Her patience is worn.
The sounds are confining.
She's feeling trapped.
Her eyes are shining.
Her heart is snapped.
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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