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DaffodilsThe end of the world is gray.
It is all ash, and what color remains is anemic and washed-out in a defeated,
this-is-what-we-were sort of way. Because these enormous, flashy
billboards, these towering pillars of glassthis was everything we ever were.
The end of the world is quiet.
Nobody shouts. Nobody speaks. Nobody laughs. And there are no TVs that work or
buses that run or music that plays. Because there is nobody left to shout or speak
or laugh or drive or sit in front of his or her TV. And if there was ever music,
it has died in my throat or maybe somewhere in my heart.
The end of the world is empty.
Buildings lean against each other, sighing, crumbling away. Rafters shift and
masonry cracks, belching small puffs of white dust. Heavy iron struts that are
shaped like crosses rust in the rain, but nobody worships them.
The end of the world is cold.
It rains sometimes, but even the rain is respectfully quiet of its empty planet.
It is careful to soften its pitter-patter b
StillShe was gone
And a wave knocked me to my knees
And the tide swept me away
It's been months
And I'm still drowning
Most MorningsMost nights, I can't sleep
Not unless I arrange the blankets
Somehow I manage to mimic
The shape of her body
But I can't recreate
Or the way her chest
Moved softly against my back
With every measured
Most nights, I wake up
And she's not here
Maybe she got up
To get a drink of water
And I don't even know
How long she's been gone
But somehow I know
That she's never
Going to come back to bed
And if I would just reach over
And touch her side of the bed
I would know it was cold
But I'm afraid
I don't want to know she's gone
I don't want to know I can't have her back
And I'll fall asleep again
But most mornings,
I'll wake up thinking
She's still here
And I'll lie there
For just a moment
Wondering where she's gone
And then I begin to wonder
How long I've been alone
Turn AroundI thought I saw you walking down the street,
And I called your name.
You didn't turn around.
Today, I AmI am bitter today
There's no way she loved me like she said
She wouldn't have left me if she did
I am sorry today
I know she loved me all along
And I hate that I thought otherwise yesterday
I am longing today
I saw two lovers walking down the street
And I wished she and I could take their places
I am content today
I dreamed about her
And in my dream, she was happy
I am frightened today
I wished I were dead
I've never wished that before
I am empty today
I cried about her until my friends dropped by
And I had to hide my tears because they've never seen me cry
And I think it would scare them
I am angry today
I saw a USMC recruiter
And I wanted to grab him by the lapels and shake him
And make him bring her home
But, of course, she's Air Force and a marine's not going to help much
I also don't think recruiters have much pull in the chain of command.
Especially in a completely different branch of the service...
Sometimes I see soldiers on leave and I want to ask them if they've seen h
Inside OutIt is like my skin cannot contain me
Like every fear and every secret
Churns and hammers and rages
Just beneath my shoulder blades
And the worn-out hollow
At the base of my throat
And I am stretched so thin
That only a fragile membrane
Stands between my heart
And how its every beat would be written
Into the translucent skin of my wrists
If it weren't so firmly caged behind my ribs,
If I hadn't already made that mistake
Of wearing my heart on my shirtsleeves once before.
I think sometimes
That I might be tearing already
Unraveling at those very seams
That I'm trying my hardest to hold together
So that when you ask me
If there's something wrong,
I'm beginning to indulge
In a short pause where
I don't meet your eyes.
I look down instead,
And for a brief moment,
I let that small, private pain
Pass across my face and
Press against my lips
I'll push it back, though
Because I need to prove to myself
That my skin is not so fragile as it seems
That I'm not as vulnerable as I feel
That I am capa
DancingI can't dance, Dreamgirl. Did you know that?
I think Novembers will always hurt the most, unless maybe I meet you on the seventh or the fifth or your birthday falls around that time. That might be okay, I think. But I will always think differently in November.
Explain this, please:
It is December and cold and bright and perfect. It smells like woodsmoke and snow in the clouds and when she steps outside, she takes a deep, deep breath. But the air is too cold for her scarred insides and she starts to cough uncontrollably. Why doesn't she remember that cold air makes her lungs tight?
Maybe she pretends not to remember. Or maybe she is preoccupied because she is thinking of last month and how she can't breathe. But it was warm in November. Warmer than last year. The scars were quieter, but that could have been because of you, actually.
She draws a second, careful breath and cinches her coat more tightly around her. She glares sullenly at the cheery winter sky and it glows back, making h
If I'm gonna tell itAre you hurting, girl?
Never love another girl
You're nobody's baby girl.
It was the day you walked away,
The day you said goodbye.
It was then.
I stopped smiling when you left me.
When I am old and grey
When I have children who no longer visit me
And I have grandchildren who don't remember me
When my husband's dead and gone
And I am quietly wasting away
In some hospice where the smell of antiseptic
Masks the scent of death as it settles into my bones
It'll still be you.
I will love you.
He Named the Stars for HerThere were twenty-seven freckles
on the skin between her shoulder blades.
He used to line them into constellations in his free time:
The Big Dipper;
He called her Galaxy Girl
and swore she'd walk the moon someday.
he captured twenty-six fireflies for her
and she laughed
when he held up the jar
and told her she could find her way home with it.
She could light her way back to him.
He swore she'd be the first girl
he'd ever name a star for
and he'd call it Glacier to match her eyes
it was so much better than her real name.
He looks at the sky
through his telescope now
and wonders if she realizes he kept his promise.
Twenty-eight stars are dedicated to her
and her universe freckles.
He named them all Lizzie
and despite his long midnight talks
with the fireflies he always captures in his palms just for her,
he still can't bring her back to his world.
Love IncompletelySometimes when I come back I'll be here waiting for you
Imagining your lovely voice
Touching more of me than eyes could see.
And when you do come back you are my breathless darling
My sweet sleepyhead, lying on top of me
Soft pools of lust at my feet.
So as I am looking into the river of love in your eyes
I know I probably will be waiting for you again impatiently
Like a flower waiting for the sun to rise at night, incompletely.
Keepsakes --C.Kiss me hello and lift me onto your smile; say my name like its our favorite song and drown out the mechanical beeps that monitor my heart and pace my life. I know you didn't want worse to come before better, but they share the same coin and 50/50 is the best we can hope for.
Bring me an atlas, darling; I'll mark all the places I want you to take me in our dreams. There are a thousand things I want to tell you--how much I love watching the sun set your hair aflame, how cute the dimple peeking from the right side of your face is--but I think I'll let my wandering fingers tell you instead. And it's too soon, sleep overtaking me like I'm drowning, and I blame them and their drugs and I don't want to go out like this. Can't you get me out of here?
There is only one thing I want to say to you, but this time, "I'm sorry" seems so insufficient. So take my hand and lets close our eyes to wander in dream, lifting ourselves from this reality and its cold, stark geography
I Smile BecauseThe touch of your breath is like a rainbow sigh
Tingles more than my skin,
Brushing warmth to more than just my heart,
And occasionally leaves me breathless in need.
I can feel the swimming gracefulness of your lips,
Seemingly carrying waves and waves of trembling want.
And the glitter of ocean in your eyes is one of a kind,
Just like the love scented hands you are holding me with.
And these words are words I could never speak aloud,
Because when I am confronted by your eyes,
My heart always feels like surrendering,
Slowly, to your every need.
Learning to Fly .Today I couldn't remember the
exact color of your eyes.
And I can't remember the way you said
"I love you" when you meant it. (Did you ever?)
And I'm so sick of love songs saying
don't let me go, don't let me go,
when I'm not the one that's leaving.
Oh please, oh please don't leave me.
Yeah, like you're going to listen.
You're not here anymore.
And I forgot how my heart used to race
and how my whole being shivered
when I knew nothing of heartbreak.
But my heart won't be beating tonight.
and it won't be beating tomorrow.
And not until I am able to
promise myself eternity.
Cause every bird has to fall
to spread it's wings and fly up high.
And I'll be no bird -
I'll be an angel.
In Love With YouYour untamed soft hands touch me in ways I always crave for,
Tease me in sweet ways I could never prepare for,
Hold me in between like I am the only one,
And always distract me unexpectedly when we kiss.
I can feel your love in the movement of your lips,
A total warm pleasantness as you cling to me.
And maybe a small part of my mind actually registers the surprise,
As your warm hands reach curiously for more.
In sweetness your love blinds me,
In my heart your love completes me,
Come tomorrow I hope you'll still crave me,
And oh, I think I'm in love with you, completely.
A fairy tale without liesWhen I used to think of you,
I'd look at that picture of you with that fairy tale smile,
The puffiness underneath your eyes,
A smoldering feature beneath the longing pain coloring the background of my mind.
So my first impression of you was maybe a bit off,
As are my denials,
Of our heart connection,
And that maybe someday I will find you the one to see in love.
People talk about all the things in life to go back to.
I only think of you to hold on to.
And every touch of your love sends warmth in a way,
Where I could almost smell a fairy tale without lies.
June 2011 Haikuthon31. Sunset reflecting
across calm waves. Dark storm clouds
over head. Brooding.
30. High heels on hardwood.
Click-clack. Click-clack. Broken hearts
going up in flames.
29. She calls 911,
panicked and crying. Problem?
No chicken nuggets.
28. Lost in the sheets, we
spread love like rib-bones, breathing,
soft, for each other.
27. Bitten red apple.
Far worms peek from the core. Bruised
skin hides rotting seeds.
26. Wild stallions
dance across idle plains. Tan
manes. Dust in the wind.
25. Bikini-clad girl:
has faded away.
hippies with dreadlocks and girls
23. Dear boy: your doe eyes
are striking, large and wild
under your antlers.
22. Memories of you slither,
waspish, through these empty rooms.
21. Cape in the wind, hand
Arsenic's got a Bitter FinishSometimes, I find myself staring at you. I wonder if I can look through one of your prettily-pierced ears and see the stars branching into my name on the other side. I wonder if that would scare the hell out of me, seeing such commitment spelled out in black and blue and white on your end when I'm so complacent with being kept to myself on mine. And maybe, deep down, I'm wondering if it's really a commitment I'm so afraid of...or if it's that I'm worried that when you look at me with your heart in your glowing sunrise eyes, I'm not returning the favor.
Sometimes I catch you staring at me, but I like to pretend that I don't see. Instead, I'll sweep my hair to the side because once in a while you'll brush your fingertips against my neck and I like the truth of that. You can't lie with your hands the same way you lie with your lips. Your eyes are sad, and I'm afraid of asking questions because the answers will scare me, I think. StillI want to ask you where it hurts. I want you t
5:20i went to the forest
to purify my lungs
then i saw the thick
three letter scar
i left in a slender
birch, and wondered how
i could let you poison
another living thing.
moths aren't afraid of pins
till they're stuck to a piece of styrofoam.
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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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