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Love is not LoveTheres should be some sort of 12 step program, not in the sense of drug use. But a program, a recovery plan, a "I losted my way in life" sort of map, that gets you back on track. I need one. To find the way back into .....into what? It was not suppose to be like this, it was not suppose to be like this, it was not fucking suppose to be like this. On second thought, maybe it was suppose to be like this. It was planed long ago, written in stone for me to be left alone, from birth, abandon, forgotten, without a cause, without nothing. Left to be rasied in a broken home, where the only thing you know is fake love, false words leaving the mouth and affecting the mind and heart, the raised voice and raised fist that to this day never found their way to your face but you still feel it anyway. I hurt you because I love you. I hurt you because I love you. The words and drunken speech gets old you know. Love is not Love when instead the word is Fuck in this time and age.
The EndTell me how it starts and I'll tell you in details how it ends
Tell me how it began and I'll tell you it ended before it began
Doom from the start
Have pity on our dirty little hearts
Guide the hand but not the heart
Listen, See, Taste, Feel. Get it mixed up and start back from the
and then End it with a period
Black and BlueBlack and Blue. Eyes looking heavenbound, did you see what you were searching for?
Hidden in bibles and remembering the words from the 1st page. Did you find that one missing page? We both knew something was not right as your eyes lack life and you soon losted your appptie. Black and Blue. You kept telling me God was waiting for you. And I always said the Devil is too. No one was right nor wrong. In the back of my head I say it was neither God nor the Devil but worms waiting to settle and make a nest in the soft body parts. Starting with the eyes and working their way towards the heart.
With eyes rolled backwardsI have this thought in my mind, where my eyes feel like it rolls backwards and I believe I can see into the past. I see how life was before me. I see how life was before the words; I love you, now say it back baby please. I see life when it was just me. Thoughts are builts upon lies as this lonely world spins on. Shut your eyes and bite the bullet. Close your eyes tight and say a prayer tonight. Just to be on the safe side, say one for me too. Is this how it feels when hope is gone and replace with something darker. Losted in your words and speech you forget about me. Everyone is paired up in twos and I'm left odd one out as we march to our doom. Depending on life or death the last thing we will see is a bright shining Moon or red color setting Sun. Fate is written on your plams, you just have to reach a certain higher understanding to read the words written down for you.
No wordsNo words come to mind, everything has been said or been expressed before
the words and thoughts are the same, like a record on re-play
like a old wound from long ago
it never heals
it never heals
it never heals
the world will keep truning anyway
we will all die in the end anyway
enjoy the moment
you know the one I'm talking about
where her/his kiss taste like iron and felt like acid rain
falling all over your naked exposed body
maybe we are all in love with each other
but too shy to say the 1st wordddsssss
how is it, we can go in and out of love with each other
our feelings change within the second.
we say we hate one another
but behind closed doors, its one thing or another
in the end we fall deeper in love with one another
calling each other
Two hearts or one?My heart feels like its hurting, but then I remember where my heart really should be, the left side of my chest, right above my breast, not on my right side under my ribcage, but it feels like it's beating too fast and hurt just the same, making me seeing small spots of pain, making me wonder if my heart fell some iches away from where it should be and making me feel pain, maybe it's a warning sign of stress making me feel two hearts when there should be one, maybe it's a warning sign of a heartattack to come.
She Her Goneshe had long black hair
that hung down to her waist...
she stood there in her fishnet stockings....
and holding a rubber hose...
her shirt was see through with little holes
on her nipples were two black x's
covered with black tape..
she stuck a pose...
the camera made loud noises....
what separated me from her...was a thin white sheet
you could see her shadow play across the whiteness...
the shadow was black and grey...
day after day...tis was her day...
bringing guys down to their knees and women to shame.
tis was little game.
Every guys believe they were in Love
But it was only the Sex they thought about, not the heart
She knew it would be like tis from the start...
She wanted Love, pure and true...but only got Lust...
She yearn for tis prince..only to be chase back to depression
and finding understanding in her drink..and drugs...
little scab wounds lined her wrist...making little happy face...
mocking her when she crys into the night.
on a cold morning they found her body....
Anti-FreezeI have sugar in the left side of my pockets
I can feel it between my fingertips
leaving a white resdue on my skin
Anti-Freeze is sweet Honey
Make sure you don't drink any tonight
I have random crap in my pockets
A crush up poem in my hands
Inky pens poking out of the holes in this thing called a sweater
letting the deadly sunshines and cold in.
Boy and GirlHer bottom lips were red, like they are alive and full of Blood. She sat there under the tree chewing on them, peeling off the skin off her lips with her teeth. Blood would form as she torn off the skinand lick it away. She had that worried looked on her face, as she sat and stared hard into space, like the answers were there. The wind played with her hair, throwing it across her face, She had that shy, scared look about her, that made you want to hold her in a tender embrace. She did not know I looked at her this way, always from afar, just waiting with longing. She did not know I was alive which both hurt and brought me happiness. She was a freshman this I knew, after much following her to her classes. Sometimes our classes were doors apart and seeing her walk towards me was all I needed to get through the day. She had that effect on me, but I did not know her name. I would lay in bed at night and think about names but the only one that stuck was: "Mines", I wanted despert
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More