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Holding your heart out for your lover with both hands,
Trusting that they will not harm it,
But not pulling away if they do.
The rushing river we drink from with many others,
Drinking the dirtied flow to purify the stream again
Should there be someone to soil it.
Enduring the pain of truth,
Like breathing pure oxygen
And accepting it into your lungs.
And hate is simply indifference.
It's not like I wanted to write this or anythingshirts, really, what a funny thing to love
it just protects you from the rain
from the wind from the dirt below you from the dirt around you
really just a simple basic necessity of modern life,
nothing that cool or inspiring but
you can buy a shirt at your department store for
five bucks a piece and yet
you can buy a similar garment at a brand name store for thousands
wonder why that is as both objects
protect your skin which protects your organs
which protects your vulnerable heart
probably our shirts are a physical entity of the walls
which we build around us
a sort of armor for our sense of love
guess that some of us feel no need to envelope ourselves
in protection while others feel the need to
spend money on locking their feelings away
and well, you spent your money
why not fall in love with your barriers themselves?
How many timesHow many times have you looked
Upon the palm of your hands
And saw them dry and cracking?
How many times have you looked
At the mankind in front of you
And saw yourself in a glass cage?
How many times have you looked
Into the dream you had
And thought it could be reality?
How many times have you looked
In the eyes of your enemy
And couldn't find yourself?
How many times have I looked that way?
Fatebelieving in Fate is a terrible thing.
i haven't believed in Fate before, but to have
so many horrible things happen to me in
such an Unrelenting, Circular, Never-ending chain
the thought of all these events
just being Innocent, Playful coincidences is
LiesNo, I don't think it's called "gullible."
I don't think it's called "idealism."
Not "oblivious," either.
It wasn't as if I was blind.
I did test the drawbridge before stepping out on it.
I saw pigs and cows and elephants walk past it,
Skipping with each step, cheerful and carefree.
They passed safely.
The bridge didn't even sway.
I, a human, surely don't weigh much more than all those animals.
Or so I believed, until I actually walked on it:
My heart's jealousy was seen as bricks.
Tons, tons of bricks stuffed inside of my emotions
The bridge didn't waver at all as it decided.
It snapped, and with almost a pushing force,
It threw me into oblivion.
Darknessevery night is the same
every night it is the same
every night the same pain strikes me
chest pains, that is
his name is Darkness,
my friend who is about fifteen times large as me
his hand holds me every night in a tight embrace
squeezing the air out of me
feeding off of my blood
and tears, especially tears
he tells me those are the tastiest
and he wants them every night
if i tried to fight,
he would surely win
so i let him take the life out of me
and cry some more
and drink liters and liters of water every night,
letting my eyes flow a river
Darkness likes to keep me alive though
he sucks up the tears,
never is merciful enough to let me drown in them
i'll never be able to get out of this
every time i try to whisper
he reminds me of a name
and suddenly my throat is tight
and there i am
If I Could Fabricate My UniverseIf I could fabricate my universe,
It would surely have a center.
Its center would stand a pinnacle,
And at the pinnacle would be one who cannot exist.
the i don't want to live poemwhen i don't want to live
i don't want to live
and i honestly don't want to live right now
living is too hard too painful too stressful
please take the life away from me
but i'm still alive, see, i have flowing blood
but i don't want to see it anymore
i want to cut and cut and cut all of my blood away
drain it from my body watch my heartbreak drain away
i want to die i want to die i want to die
the feeling of breathing is disgusting to me
my body makes me breathe and i hate it i hate it so much
the pain is almost physical my chest cannot withstand the pressure
please release me from this prison
i never did wrong, i don't deserve a life sentence
a death one would suit me well
but i'm too fucking cowardly to end it all
why do i feel like there's still a point in living
because i promised time i would wait for it
i would wait for time to save me
time has always been on my side
but timing never has
but when i don't want to live
i wish [someone] would tell me
if you die you wou
They try to help me
They're trying, I can tell
I ignore it because they speak words of logic and mine
Mine are words from my flesh
My blood, my skin, my muscles, my organs, my fat, my bones
My brain isn't in it
My brain was shut down by my heart
And I was never strong enough to get it back
They tell me to swim
Learn to swim, stop hanging on an anchor to stay afloat
Swim and swim away
Swim onto an island by yourself where you can be happy
The anchor is the anchor of my ship and I must with it
I want to
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
Before My Mouth Told You I Was Sickbefore my mouth told you i was sick, there were
the fingers that wrapped around cups and cups of tea.
i sipped oceans.
i sipped the seven seas
and my ribs were the rainstick that
sent shivers pattering like some
down your swaying, praying spine.
there were the hurricanes.
that is what you came to call them,
my eyes burst into lightning,
my chest quaked with thunder,
when my ribs heaved with the monsoon
that was my breath
until i collapsed, shaking, into your
beach house arms.
there were the missing beats.
sometimes my heart slowed, stopped,
staggered home drunk to gasp morse-code warnings
between my aching ribs.
sometimes the stillness was so perfect
(and alone so tempting)
that i wished for the beat
to wander far and
to be forever lost.
there were the ribs, and the collarbones.
i was a mountain range with
blood in my rivers,
you saw the carrot sticks
(oh god how could you)
and you let me feed myself with
there was the blood i was suppose
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
BloodlustI hate you.
I passionately hate you with every single cell of my body.
Everything about you is so disgusting to me,
So pathetic and annoying.
I hate the way you act and talk.
I absolutely despise your essence in general.
Every time I see you,
My neutral expression falls into a frown.
Or rather, I don't even give enough of a care to frown.
As I try my hardest not to glare,
I bite the inside of my cheek.
So hard that I feel my own teeth digging into flesh,
So that that I taste my own blood.
My blood tastes sweet, and I savor every drop.
But not as sweet as your blood would taste;
Surely yours is sweeter and better to taste than mine.
I would love to take apart your flesh with my own claws
And see your raw composition lying there,
So vulnerable, so pitiful, so... Cute.
So beautiful I'd laugh.
No, not the laugh you'd hear from a usual villain,
But the lighthearted laugh you'd hear from a couple on a date,
A child watching his favorite television show,
A man making jokes with his friends.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More