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They are the only images I see when I shut my eyes. I tried closing them tighter, to get rid of the gruesome memories, but they just become more vivid and alive. Somehow they've made me numb and frozen. I guess I am thankful. If I were to constantly break down every time I thought of those memories I'd surely lose my mind. Not that I haven't, at least not much.
I stare out of my cracked window. The rain is really coming down. The sun has almost vanished and I know I should be getting up soon. If I don't then there will be consequences. Not severe, but consequences nonetheless.
As I'm dressing in all skin tight black there's a shift in the air. Niki materializes in my peripheral, dressed in the same attire. Her black streaked bangs are messy in her face. If ever I could have a best friend, she'd be the one.
"I see you're ready," she says.
"Don't we have to be," I tell her.
She half shrugs and pulls her short, blonde, and black hair in a tight pony tail. I p
Sky and Earth
I asked you what it must be like
To see everything,
To feel everything.
Of course, I never did get an answer from you.
So I guess I'll never know.
I can wonder,
I can assume,
I can even conjure up some incredible explanation!
I can let be what is.
But then again, if I were to do so, you would surely be gone forever
Dead to the world,
Lost to me
So many times I thought of joining you,
But I suppose I'm too selfish.
I want to stay attached.
My earth, a solid surface.
If ever I fall I can get back up.
I wanted to ask why you wished to fly all the time,
But it was too late.
I never got around to it.
I decided to lie down,
On my earth,
And just stare above.
Oh how vast!
You smiled upon me then.
And I received all of the answers.
One of us had to stay rooted,
Or the other would surely drift away.
We finally intertwined our fingers.
This is a poem to my mommy, Natasha, who will never know my true thoughts and feelings.
Underneath my cold, rough, and seemingly flawless surface,
you've left my insides tattered, in shambles, shattered.
All because of YOUR failures and hardships.
All because of YOUR shame.
My face left stinging from your anger fueled lashes,
I swore I were an unwanted stepchild.
I thought you purely despised me..
I thought you had no real need for me..
I thought it was I who just failed you....
But I know now that it's just in your nature.
You have no control of your own life,
So you take mine.
You try to live through me.
I wrote this poem because I will always have something inside me that despises you too.
I wrote this for my own comfort.
I wrote this to ful
Can't believe that I feel good enough.
It's been a long time coming,
but I feel good.
Doesn't really matter how I feel inside.
lonely little life.
You're pushing and pulling me down.
I can't say no to you.
It was always you
falling for me,
but I don't know what I want.
Because I've never felt like this before.
I hate this.
I hate this.
For The No Ones
To those who have been branded and bashed from society.
Those who've found comfort and refuge within the shadows
To the ones who put up with the harsh slanders from supposed peers.
For those who wait for the sun to disappear.
To those whose hearts and minds work together as one.
Those who fear the thought of being afraid.
To those whose vast minds are kept concealed.
For those who lose every battle but are victors in the war.
To those you must get to know before you permanently label.
Those who don't know the value of their own worth.
To those who are never sure of who or what they really are.
For those who only have themselves to love;
Like stars that are only appreciated in the night sky.
Not realizing that the sun itself is the biggest star.
They are one with the night,
Soaking up the beautiful darkness.
Remind us all that before the day, darkness was the only light.
Darkness was, and still is, all around us.
So embrace it.
She's a WriterShe sits at her desk
Her headphones in,
The world shut out.
She bleeds for others
As words fly from
Her mind to her fingertips.
She stares at the screen,
At every little comment,
The good and the painful.
She forms her emotions
Into books and poems
To throw away the hurt.
She's a writer,
And her best weapons
Are her mind and her pen.
BetrayedI won't swallow your lies anymore
I can't stand your presence
You used to be my friend
But you're nothing to me now
And soon you'll be
Another bad memory
I won't be able to forget
Do you know what it feels like...To be lonely?
To be bullied?
To be called ugly?
To be unattractive?
To be compared to other women?
To be considered unnormal?
To be unloved even though you give love to others?
To face issues that you don't in reality know how to fix?
To think that your goal you're reaching for, is unattainable?
To feel like the cause of many people's problems?
To be held up on a high pedistal that you can't get down off of?
To realize that people don't like you based on your personailty?
To at no avail, keep up your happy and upbeatness for others?
To look at happy couples and wish that you had someone to be happy with?
To stop fighting for anything anymore?
flower petalsi know that when we touch
that my energy is yours
that we are like flowers
because at our roots
we need water and love,
we reach tall as we can
to get to the sun
and stretch our leaves
to welcome it all;
and when we touch
i know that our skin isn’t skin
too soft for this world
when it grows rough with gravel
so i invite you back to our bed,
soft with the earth
where we can lie gently
and sleep until it is time
You AgainOh, it's you again. I must admit,
The crooning has
The lies have been
And mine are like swords
It's just you and me
In this sick game
I can tell
You're pulling me in,
And I don't have
To pull you down
Sometimes, I've had
And all I see is
Then it became
I don't know
How to escape
Dark to see.
And all I can
Wonder at every
Turn I make
When can it be
SightStars in the night sky
I see beyond that and through
Greatness into darkness, I can fly
Here above the earth I can see the truth
There is an angel that will love me until I die
jackal grinMy orange peel
lips split: the beams
a deck of cards
nana’s worn porch,
and fingers weaving
through grass blades
when the light is
soft and warm.
(have you f
An artist (revised)
Staring blankly at a white sheet of paper
Can truly be an artist’s worst nightmare
An artist’s duty as its shaper
Their thoughts up in the clouds somewhere
Looking for bits of inspiration
Their eyes searching the skies
Nothing can break their concentration
Nothing can blow out the passion in their eyes
Being an artist does not always mean you are skilled
You do not need to be Picasso or Bach
It means you want to see your dream fulfilled
And that you will never give in to an art block
I Don't Come with the Edgesi.
It cries the way dragonflies leave ripples
in the rain. On days I swallow
whirlpools for breakfast and
drown with libraries for fun,
I can almost allow myself to forget
And it doesn’t want to make
me kneel on my shoulders
or pluck the weeds
from my scars;
I can see it try so hard
to be my friend.
But if I could choose
polka dots over tail lights
and sun screen over
I wouldn’t think thrice
or even once
not to blow the candles
on my grave.
That’s why I keep
the colons of analog clocks
under my tongue;
so I could keep the
figures eight of cliché’s
as keepsakes for old age.
I like to think infinities
have loopholes; tree rings
that dissolve into each other
with exhales for a caress.
And just when the tones
of lyrics would enter the
eutony of names, only then
would I drift into love.
When I wouldn’t be holding
my blood in my temples-
when all I am is a thought.
The running footsteps
we’ve come to cla
Keep in Touch!
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