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jugendliche.i.) die Bekennende
Du bist meine Liebe, meine Engel in der Nacht.
Die Sonne scheint so hell fuer uns, du kuesst mich und sagt,
"Kannst du bitte halt mein Hand?"
Ich kuesse dich, weil ich weiss ich kann.
Ich hoffe, du weisst, du bist wirklich schoen.
Alles, ich kann sagen ist "ich brauche dich so gern."
Meine Liebe fuer dich ist sehr gross, ich bitte zu sein.
Immer Ihren Liebling, damit du mein sein.
ii.) die Sehnsucht
Sie ist so viel staerker als ich.
Sie leuchtet den Raum und ich fuehle mich
Als wuerde ich tiefer fallen in der Liebe.
Ich denke, das sind Liebhaber oder Taschendiebe?
Aber sie ist so anders, so perfekt und Art ist.
Es scheint, sie fühlt sich nicht Zwist.
Ich will nur ihre Hand zu Halten,
Aber das ist nicht etwas, was ich ganz einfach verwalten.
Sie hat eine andere, obwohl sie liebt mich mehr
Und ich weiss, ich liebe sie ebensosehr.
A Little Bit Like Crazy: Chapter 4.1chapter four
“is astrid your girlfriend?” keillan asked me unexpectedly at our breakfast. i nearly choked on my chocolate milk.
“what the heck, kiddo?” i tried to laugh but it just came out really uncomfortable sounding. “of course she isn’t.”
“well, was she?” his insight never ceased to amaze me. his eyes were large and intent, as if he’d thought about this for a long time.
“what even would make you think that, keillan?” i appeared composed. it was still way too soon for me to answer questions about astrid. “you’ve known me your whole life. that’s the most peculiar thing to ever come out of your mouth.” i was avoiding eye contact. keillan’s got this way of making you feel totally at ease with even the most uncomfortable of topics. i guess it’s a good trait to have.
“okay, you guys are always talking about
A Little Bit Like Crazy: Chapter 3.1Chapter Three
The only person that was at home when I arrived back was my sister Brinley, a spoiled fifteen-year-old with a penchant for making my life miserable. She was lying on the sofa Daisy Buchanan-style, sprawled lazily reading a fashion magazine.
“You’re home late,” she grumbled, not even having the decency to lift her eyes from the gossip column. “How was your drunken rave last night?” Her words were dripping with sarcasm, a smirk on her lips. She genuinely repulsed me.
“You didn’t,” I spat gruffly in her direction, wide-eyes full of anger. “You did not see anything.” I was terrified, not that she had seen, but that she had shown our parents.
“Au contraire, my dear sister,” she chuckled nonchalantly. “I especially liked the one of you smashing a beer bottle into Mrs. McCartney’s heirloom china vase.”
“Brin, you wouldn’t dare,
fresh.don't look at me.
every time you do i see her.
you look just like her, but
shorter thinner sweeter
younger. you are so much younger.
you're nowhere near as naive.
innocent is not in your expansive
vocabulary. your voice is both
agonizing and intoxicating.
we used to lie next to each
other, hold hands and harmonize.
you held me when i cried
and laughed at my cheesy jokes.
now you have gone. you don't
even speak to me, no choral context.
but you look at me. and you smile.
and you make me feel so fresh,
don't ever leave my side.
a memoir of a butterfly.her memory is like a dead mockingbird.
something so beautiful, but remnants
scatter in the wind, unable to
comprehend whether it was deserved
perishing or a mistake.
will you remember in twenty
years, or twenty months, twenty
goddamn seconds, or will she
fade like the fluttering feathers
of the bird shot down in anguish?
can you kiss yourself goodnight
because her butterflies will never
again land on your fleshy lips?
laugh to keep from crying, cry
to keep for being numb,
pretending her presence was
that of a ghost inside a dream.
cover your wrists in gauze and
guilt to prevent moral infection,
feign disinterest when she bites
her lips, don't crave to be the
one biting back, because you'll
only be chewing yourself out.
don't look directly at her, she
is a sapphic eclipse, tease
me with your sloping neck,
tease me with your impeccable
jawline, hazel eyes and
crooked nose, a sweet breathiness
achieved by her trembling,
raspy alto, how i want to
press my mouth to hers and utter
the cure for romantic epilepsy is you.lighthearted heartthrobs
leave me tenderhearted for
the moment, callously discarded
when the brokenhearted relapses
occur and my heartache is just
a simple subtraction amongst
the breakage and blood pumping.
can you heal me? can you heal you?
do you know how to divide me
into the good, the bad, and the
parts that get too clingy?
can you tell me what it is
that keeps you clinging?
your body is like a metronome,
and i just want to move
to your tempo, you envelope
me with your beautiful
lyricism and lips like a rose.
hands hold like roping soliloquies
of the what-ifs and what-nows,
they're clenching like we're
on a roller coaster and i just
want to hold on to you, if
i could kiss you would i be
considered lucky or a casualty?
i want to peruse the inky pages
of your loitered soul, picking
up the pieces because something
as beautiful as you doesn't
deserve to be littered.
all i want you to do is stand
near me, not even next to me,
because the glow of your glower
is gorgeous even in your mos
drowned.this ice is getting thinner
and i keep feeling like i'm
about to fall through. i just
wanted you to envelope me in
your harmony, sweet kisses
making the syncopation
between broken glass and
heart pieces, shattered
with lips uttering breathlessly.
i wanted to be warmed by
the sound of your melodies,
you told me of my beauties
and i believed you, remember
that my soul is fragile and
that suicide and silence
start and end the same way.
keep in mind when you told
me how much you cared and
how much i hope you realized
at this point the water is
freezing and i can't swim.
love like remission.everybody says that
i'm a specific type. i
think that's just an
excuse to say there's
really no chance i can
ever be loved. keep saying
that i'm beautiful, keep
saying that i'm good.
do you really think i
believe any of that? i'm
trying to turn a new
page, cleanse the wounds
she caused me, and now
i don't know which way
to turn because neither
path is paved for me and
neither door is open. i
wish i could say it was
easy but i can feel it
coming back, steadily like
a creeping animal ready
to pounce on my freshly-
healed heart and soul.
everyone says i have a type.
i believe that in a
heartbeat because each
heart that beats next to
mine is sweet in the melody.
i don't have my choice of
the picking but i can
pretend to be free of this
illness, relapsing on
romanticism and using stoicism
as a crutch, this wall i
put up can be broken down
by whoever's love is strong
enough. someone, take my hand
and lead me through the disease.
Life is a Study of ContrastIf not for the darkness,
We wouldn’t know the difference
Between a star and a ball of dust.
Life is a study of contrast.
We get dark,
Not to fall apart
But to shine.
How to Hug from Far AwayType and write, your arms wide open,
smile through emotions, the warming moment.
Far away, but so very close.
For the friends and family, you love the most.
Create a letter, then press enter,
send your love you’re no pretender.
Across the sea, one day you’ll meet.
For friends and family, you’ll one day greet.
Retrieve a message, return the hug,
feel so better, a different love.
From different lands, gentle hands.
For friends and family, who make you glad.
It’s easy to hug from far away,
But harder to feel, the warmth we need.
WallsTell them all your secrets.
They'll never tell a soul.
They'll keep you standing up
When your body's had its toll.
Beat them in your anger.
They'll never scream or cry.
They'll let you vent your feelings
And never pester why.
Hide within their safety.
They'll keep you tucked away.
They'll let in just enough light
For you to know it's day.
Unrequited LoveAn act of admirable courage
from the sincerest of hearts
a love that I cannot encourage
the feeling in me then departs.
Do not be in solitary confusion
I have a burning determination
do not reach the wrong conclusion
but I must reject this fixation.
It is not you, nor is it me
please do not lose all hope
but I believe this was not meant to be
I know that you will be able to cope.
A heart with fervent ambition
may not be able to settle as easily
a pretend love cannot come to fruition
truly, I do care for you deeply.
Forgive me, how selfish am I
for turning away such a great love
please don't let your spirits die
No words of appeasement to think of.
I apologize endlessly for your unrequited love.
What She Always Wanted
the little girl with dimpled cheeks had stolen daddy's heart
when she turned three he bought for her a doll and baby cart
she smiled and gazed into his eyes then kissed him on the cheek
she asked him if he had the time to play some hide and seek
... it was a good day!
at six years old she found it hard to say her abc's
and when she ran her mommy noticed how it made her wheeze
the doctor said it's nothing just some minor growing pains
they sighed relief and stopped to buy her gum and candy canes
... it was a good day!
late one night her parents found her staring at the moon
they watched her mouthing silent words inside her pastel room
a little tear had fallen down her tiny little face
her parents turned and walked away as destiny they faced
... it was a sad day!
at eight years old she lost her sight and balance in one day
the doctor said the tumor in her brain was there to stay
surgery's too difficult and chemo just won't cure
they begged the nurse to ask the surgeon was he really su
DeanThere is a boy named Dean.
I knew him for so long
before we were pre-teens.
Actually, we were born
days apart, just three.
Not long after
our friendship would start.
This boy was full of life
and loved to have fun.
When he was ten years old
the doctors realized
that between his
red cells and white
something was not quite right.
There were us few,
who helped him through,
just Sam, David, and I.
Of course, his parents,
and Tony too.
Remission was soon
we could see the end
this boy was so strong
nothing can go wrong.
He was healed.
He grew healthier,
he grew out his hair.
All the long, I was there.
He was my best friend,
and I was his wimpy little girl.
We would wrestle in the grass
we grew close so fast.
We made silly games in the pool,
we jumped on the trampoline,
which my parents never knew.
We played tetherball,
looked at stars and just talked.
I developed the biggest crush.
It was a different time then,
all I did was blush!
Of course I couldn’t tell him!
Lost in your eyesWhen I look into your eyes it is like I am hold by a vine.
As bright as pure light is their shine.
It is like I am looking into the ice.
But for my soul this sight is quiet nice.
This must be how it feels when you look at true beauty.
Every sound around you and me gets fluty.
I am up in the sky, feeling like I am taking a flight.
For me these eyes are my light.
Looking into your eyes makes every dream of mine come true.
Just like the ice, heavens and seas your eyes are so damn blue.
Pulling me in and I forget about all my scars.
Feeling like I am looking straight to the stars.
They hold me gently and the feeling is maternally.
I want to have this feeling for all eternity.
Everything I’ve done and every line I crossed.
Looking into your gorgeous eyes I get lost.
let it beswing-swing.
we fell in love
on the first of May
when the birds sang
and the flowers bloomed
in bountiful colors.
we ran away from reality
and created our own
wonderland, where we
were free blackbirds
finally learning to fly
with our broken wings.
the perfect day for
our birthdays, day
we started dating,
our future wedding,
seemed to be going great,
yes, I'll admit
that I took our love
for granted - I'm sorry.
our memories form the
silhouette that should
have you been by my side;
I walk side by side
with my own shadow.
Life is WaxWhen my life erupts into shambles
And last dim light burns out of my candle
I cry the wax that’s sticky sweet
It comes in hot waves and burning sheets
What burns the most, is life itself
From all the past and pain I've felt
Here in my heart the damage dealt
My story so long, but too hard to tell
What’s hardest still, is all this grief
And as the waters, my blood does seethe
Scaring skin outside within like ocean reefs
Gnarling scratching digging in with teeth
It gets more difficult with the passing day
When words aren't enough to simply say
It seems that new happiness just decays
Falling to my knees I plead, liberatae mae
So when my life erupts into shambles
Let Last light so dim, burn out my candle
Look At My Palms, They Shake Like My Current WorldMy veins? They bleed ink,
Thick, black, translucent blood.
The flowing won't stop.
Sometimes, I worry
My oxygen intake will
Falter and shut down.
I have night terrors
And wake up suffocating,
Sleep? A luxury.
I can't afford to waste it
Once I'm getting it.
Over in my world of sad,
There's too much pressure.
It's caving into me, my
Lungs and cavity.
Anymore, a cadaver
Behind curls of my dead skin.
By imagination, time
Is just an object.
Why should I follow
When I can barely keep my
Own head from falling?
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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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