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day 17she dreams of the pink swing set under a canopy
of leaves, shoes brushing colours of autumn
of mud slicked steps, rusted spoons and clear
plastic forks turned opaque from grimy hands
of lard-filled jars and broken glass,
glittering teeth hidden beneath tree shadows
of scratchy hay poking ankles and, below, sharp
metal just peeking through faded itchy yellow:
day 3you said: there is just
something about myths.
i thought there's just
something about your lips.
tell me the myths of
your sleepy hometown
and the truths of hands
held proud in public.
i'd like to learn the
stories of your skin,
the loud silence of
heartbeats and bed sheets.
you don't sit beside me in class anymoreyou look like oversized sweaters waiting for
mr darcy vapid vanilla shows up late to
class with coffee cheeks flushed from cold
(but there's more than meets the eye. i like
the flush of your cheeks and last week i
wondered if you bite lips or lick them; if
you'd change my mind on holding hands)
gone is your floral perfume soft breathing
arm brushing mine proximity pulsing legs
crossing blurry profile in peripheral
(but now i almost like it better this way. it's
easier to follow concentration as it moves
along your features and i have always been
more comfortable with distance anyway)
lost in space1
there were words once, listen:
quiet, soft, like fingers brushing over the fabric of a sweater, tickling your ear, warming, small gusts of heat that spread to your toes, a glinting eye, a curved mouth, a promise.
there were words once, listen:
hard, rough, like metal scraping over concrete, bruising, marking your arms, legs, ribs, even your spine, purple and black blossoming on dark skin, yellowing until silence, an apology.
there were words once, listen:
now there are no words, only the deafening roar of silence.
there are words now, listen:
the old stars whisper to each other. they have discovered the secret of patience, a conversation lasting the ages. a single word may take years upon years to travel and you have to know which way to send it. careful, precise, or you may tell a stranger you miss them.
you can hear the sound of these words, like fast cars on a track, restless and enduring. the faster they travel, the slower time moves, slowing rapidly until it sto
sharp nailsthere is a pattern of
veins on my right thigh
that looks like the long,
blue bones of a hand
sometimes these thin,
spindly fingers crawl
up my veins and
arteries to clasp around
my heart, tug on the
back of my eyes,
dotting and blacking
they scrape the nervous
system and i think i
used to pray to settle
from 3429 ft.two years ago from paris, saskatoon looked like a small solar system, hazy with rain and cold. three days ago from toronto, it is midday and foggy, a thick blanket of grey masking tiny grey buildings cut by a tiny grey river. but the feeling is the same and i want to reach across the aisle to hold my sister's hand much the same as two years ago, russell reaching for my hand, any hand, two changed souls unprepared to face the sameness of home.
but the feeling is not the same. we are not two changed souls: we are just happy ones, 'satisfied with the trip' ones, and i do not hold hands when i am happy.
may 3i press tissue paper to the skin
above my ankle, apply pressure,
try not to think about the red and
searing and the itch in my hand.
i decide i want to cover my body in
ink, beautiful and expensive.
my grandmother asks me why i
want a tattoo.
i tell her, "i think they're
five years of thinking pass.
birds fly across my wrist and i trap
beautiful and expensive.
reverberationshey skinny boy, you walk like you know where you're going
and when you kiss me, i don't know what to say
( and it sort of
reverberates between us, doesn't it? )
parenting 101when our children wake up screaming in the middle of the night
or crawl into our beds, we have a list of reassurances:
"it was just a nightmare" and
"it was just the shadows" and
"it was just your imagination"
until they, too, are desensitized and locked in a cage,
condition themselves to be blind and sane like the rest of us
Starting the ConversationTrigger warning: Rape and self harm themes
No one ever told you this so I guess that I will.
You don't have to have sex just because you think thats what you should be doing. Have sex if and when you want to, with whoever you choose. Be safe and consensual and be ready. No matter how committed you are to someone, whether you love them. Whether you're in love with them. Whether you're related to them by blood or marriage.. you should never do something you don't want to do for them.
You don't have to be ashamed about sex. Just because you made a horrific mistake as a child and as a result you have no idea what you're doing.. most people don't. When you find the right guy he will help you learn what he wants. Everyones different anyway so knowing how to please one guy wouldn't give you an advantage for the next. It's okay to be scared given what you've been through but now all you have to do is wait. Remember to wait. Because three times you pushed yourself
A love letterI have asked my self a thousand times why I love you. And while I can list hundreds of the virtues and intricacies of your soul that have caused me to deem you an angel, I don't think I can fairly say that any or all of these things are reasons why I love you, but rather that the love I have for you is the reason why I see them. And I think that is perhaps the single most beautiful, heartbreaking, and vivid truth about love, that it has no rules or blueprints, it simply is. It refuses to be contained, or limited by our capacity to understand it. It transcends reason and rationality. And in our struggle to define love, love defines us.
Dear Cousin Katie,Dear Cousin Katie,
Hey, you piece of trash. A rude greeting for a child, I know, but you deserve it. Because you're evil, complete evil. I am positive you know what you do and say is wrong, though possibly a bit oblivious to the full extent of what you've been doing. You're on your way to a pretty serious beating once you're a bit older. Honestly, if you aren't drop dead gorgeous, someone is going to murder you. Heck, I'll murder you. Just wait.
In case you think I'm being unfair to you, let's go back and talk about a few things, shall we? First off, what kind of beast tells her brother to kill himself because no one loves him? While he's on suicide watch? And while he's dying, because you're a kid, you get away with telling him to stop wasting everyone's time and either stop faking or die. Yes, hospitals are boring, but you kinda just have to deal with that. If someone is being rushed away, or is attached to lots of needles and tubes, there is
longing until someone comesSometimes we feel like islands;
We long for the company of others, but once someone comes we aren't sure what to do with them and most of time they don't know what to do with us either.
Beloved EnemyOh, my beloved enemy,
How could you do this to me? To the child that I was? You robbed that child of her innocence and then robbed me of it again through murky memories.
You are my enemy because of what you did.
You are beloved because of who you are.
A person should never have to go through the confusion that I have gone through, where they are simultaneously adoring and abhorring.
I hate you for what you have done to me, the life that I could have had snatched by your cursed hand in a moment of lust.
But I love you, still. How could I not? You are blood of mine, after all.
I must confess, when I first heard of your Motor Neurone Disease I felt a split second of triumph. Now, at last, you understood what it meant to be unable to speak. And then I felt disgusted by myself. How could I wish such a foul illness on anyone? I do not want you to suffer, even though you made me suffer. I do not hate you.
I do not hate you.
You are both my worst enemy and my admired uncle. And I know that I w
I Have Been Nominated : ALS Ice Bucket Challange!I have been nominated by :iconSunnyHaku: (Because I said something about it hehe)
I'm breaking rules because I won't have 24 god damn hours to do it, too much school work. But I will be uploading either an animation or real-life video of it.
I also nominate the following awesome people to do this.
:iconKimkiri: Darkie, :iconDakota155: Leo, :iconFaolanTheVoidWolf: Fay Fay, :iconZach-deh-froggie: My pet Froggie, and :iconDragonLolWolf: Poison-Kiuan.
Weird Worldworld is weird...
really...you eill kill me as a ransom to take in that artist? what fool.
A Letter for a Loved One LostDearest Aunt Susan,
It has been a year since the cancer plucked the strength from your bones and called down the chariots of heaven to take you home. Not a day has passed that I do not think of you. Not a day has passed since I remember the promise which I was never able to keep. I feel horrible for this, though I know deep in my heart, you are smiling down on me and telling me not to worry about it. You and I were of like mind. We looked at the world with morbid curiosity and humor. We shared our thoughts every week, though every week since you’ve been gone it goes without saying that I am still waiting. I haven’t brought myself to erase your number from my phone. I keep waiting for the emails that will never come, the laughs we can no longer share and the smiles I will never see.
It has been raining for the last four days, today being no exception. The rain is joined by my tears as I remember the last time I saw your smiling face. It doesn’t get easier sometimes. I
day one, part threei think your eyes are pretty and your smile is pretty and your hair is pretty and your legs shot heat down my spine.
but you're not that pretty up close you wear your eyeliner like the thick outline of bad clipart and when your legs aren't moving, i forget who you are. the girl beside you toys with the ends of her hair and her thighs are tanned and bare just like yours. her voice is syrup, sugar content too high, and it's all i can do to keep my mouth upturned, to partake in the pleasantries of small talk.
you are just another girl with hair extensions and jeans cut at the pockets. when you speak, it is hard to hear beyond the cotton candy vowels that think you are still a little girl (did you ever grow up?).
i want to lift your parietal bone and look for something other than pretty and legslegslegs.
Keep in Touch!
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