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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.
Breathe Love Like AirBreath love like air, and live
Return from the darkness
Embrace all life as kin
And let peace touch your heart
The saccharine kiss of
Hope can make bitterness
Evolve on cynics' tongues
Leaving an aftertaste
Vanquished are the moments
Engulfed in innocence
Life does not let you live
In perfect happiness
Kisses of destiny
Either raze or nourish
A man's deepest beliefs
In pure honesty, I-
Repeat, breath love like air
Doesn't it scare you? Doesn't it scare you?
Doesn't it scare you, knowing that a bullet could take your life away quicker than quick?
Doesn't it scare you, being hit by a grenade harder than brick?
Does the loud sounds of guns firing make you jump?
Do you ever feel scared that you'll never wake up from this nightmare known as war?
Doesn't it scare you Never knowing if you'll make it out alive.
Doesn't it scare you knowing Over hundreds out to kill you... to end your life.
Doesn't it scare you? Possibly being stabbed with a knife?
Although, you shouldn't be scared.
Think of how much your cared.
Loved ones, waiting for your arrival.
Hoping that your the best when it comes to survival.
You are loved and highly adored.
Remember, you are protected by the Lord.
Rising AboveUsing a candle, I held it up to truly see
light took the shadows from your hands
and then I realize now that I am free
I can finally say goodbye to these sad lands.
I had become helplessly and hopelessly buried
I had struggled, choked, and cried
but it was myself that I continuously carried
I believe each moment a piece of me died.
Yet, I could feel a light drawing nearer
I dug myself from the deepest pits of the dirt
now I can stand looking in the mirror
I have risen above this bleeding hurt.
You have done your harmful deeds
but you have failed to bury me completely
reflection is what your heart needs
regardless, I'll say goodbye to you sweetly.
So farewell. Enjoy your lonesome tree.
They are mere threads of pain and fear
skillfully weaved together to form
They plague my mind and
torture my soul
I wish to cut my ties with them
but they are pulling the strings
Dear little creature,
you are nothing more than an illusion
please go home
return to hell and leave
my mind alone
I refuse to be a victim
in this murder case
How dare I allow you to
massacre my dreams
My imagination is not so weak
as to let you run amok
in my mind anymore
Let me rest in peace.
I Can't ImagineI can't imagine how you feel,
the emotions of what you are going through.
All I can do is say "I'm sorry,"
and do my best to be there for you.
The people we love, care for,
even idolize leave at too high a cost.
Because once they are gone, we mourn,
we cry, and even pray for the one we have lost.
I can't imagine how you feel,
while you are bereft of that special person now.
I can swear to you, that this moment and forever on,
my shoulder is yours to lean on, and this I avow.
You are not alone, other hurt now too,
for this loved one touched many a soul.
While in your heart there may be a hole,
In time their memory you'll be able to extol.
I can't imagine how you feel,
I really can't grasp the concept or have a clue.
I won't be able to help you get over it,
but how to live, push forward, and love again; I will, always for you.
deeperas I float
deeper into the blue
watching my boat
fade from view
thoughts seize upon
a memory of you
in a garden room
made for two
a long distant spring day
warm breeze upon our skin
the promise of an adventure
about to begin
as bubbles trail
cold wet lips descending
speak your name
with love unending
Don't Tell MeI don't mind if you don't talk to me anymore
I forgot what the talking was even for
Because for me, we're in a happy place
Still have a smile that's on my face.
So, Please don't tell me,
Don't tell me you don't love me anymore.
They ask how things are going with me and you
I lie to them, I hope that you do too
Because they don't need to know,
Don't need to know it's true.
Please don't tell them,
Don't tell them you don't love me anymore.
We both know that it's through
I'm lying to them, I'm lying to you
I can't remember when it was true
I can't remember how I felt about you.
Still, Please don't tell me
Don't tell me you don't love me anymore.
It happened, gave a shock, yet I already knew
No more lying, it's what we had to do
Still I cried, even though you told me not to
No reward, no point, I had already lost you.
But I know you had to tell me,
Had to tell me you don't love me anymore
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?
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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