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Penniesim that kid that you see as naive
you don't need me
but you want me to be
there for you if you want to
and what do i get
and you don't even sweat
on the big things the stories
i'm raging and roaring
you're whoring yourself out again
and its boring
i'm boring a hole to the life you uphold
got a role
so i'll play it but this game i'm saying
i don't need your silence
one more reason i'm writing
show me a feeling
or i'm right
not gonna roll
its a no go
i got a feeling you'll give up
not gonna get with this get up
show me you're reeling
you're not though
gimme a story
or show me.
i'm that girl that you found intriguing
truth is i don't think you can perceive me
not even sure that you even see me
but one of us lies and its easy
get up and get go
i got no pull here to stay
so i let go
rush me i'm pushing away
but i'm back though
i don't even know
soul to soul or im solely alone
YoursI'm okay for now and I'm standing tall
but in a second I'm backed up against the wall
in my head my back arches
but my head just falls
and my shoulders drop
and my thoughts hit the floor/
you glance across the room and my mouth creases up
in a way it gives away and you give me that look
the smile slips down and I'm on one foot
my fingernails click, I say I'm okay, but/
You know it's not true, you can see right through me
peel back a smile and my eyes look roomy
it's not quite a lie, but it's not quite true
we'll drop it for tonight and I'll call another truce/
I'm tired of the way you think I'm being obtuse
and the only thing I've got is 'it's me, it's not you'
in actuality it's everything I've ever been through
the reality's duality and one of me'll lose/
so call it off for a second and i'm feeling like water
slipped through your hands but i'm inside your pores
stuck to your skin and I'm feeling remorse
I can't save you from me more than I can be more/
than I am, than I should be
TeethSing me out a story
I don't need a reason just to rhyme
I got my paper A$ lined
that shit you're selling, I'm not buyin.
the only thing that's left of me
chew me up and spit me out
but either way I'll break your teeth-
RamblesBut then I think
this pen and ink
wants to write the
ins and outs of my mind
and then i find
the final line
why is it then
that I'm not fine?
I write about
falling and how
it's different for me than you
but the truth
it's not a hard line
and all in all
my life's quite fine
it isn't perfect,
but then I suspect,
a million people have it worse than I.
Every night I do it.
I chew on thoughts and bury words
squashing sentences at the bottom of the bright ideas pile
the light switch is on but every bulb's blown
I repeat and repeat and repeat
scrap replay, replay rethink, remember
it changes and I forget
and then it's never what it was so
the words evolve, adapt
getting chewed and mangled
and then I forget the point
and I sleep
or I dream
and the problem's solved til the night comes again.
It's quiet and im still
emptied but soft
I feel fleshy and light.
I can feel every ounce of me wiegh down as I float
and the memory of words
I can't move
and the past is immovable
but it's quiet
cotton soft quiet.
In the dark when I close my eyes
in floods light.
of my eyelids
im holding no pictures
no more now than i knew
can't solve and can't prove
but the light
and the quiet
the soft and the new
the good and the hope
these might carry me through.
PulseIt's bright and it's broken
it's flickering, rusted
the heart of a creature I couldn't have trusted
for fear or for hunger of minor disaster
a flesh that's quite warm yet it's lacking in lustre
a blister of truth
or a wrinkle of trust.
It's dark and it's dusty
quite damp, and encrusted
with scars and a venom that's destined to break it
and fuelled with a stream of casual acquaintances
mind that knows need but not how to relate
and i'm broken
I must hope
for a reason
a sign that it's right
lest we fall with the seasons,
and falling is reason enough.
pleased to meet you
shes a dancer
give a chance of
she'll destroy you
she'll destory you
catch an eye and
trace a line and
catch it wandering on
out and to the side
i don't know you
hasn't told you
she's a weapon
she's a snake and
she's a soldier
she'll unfold you and
she'll be cold and
feign a smoothness
all a tactical maneuver
hasn't told you all the moves and
old directory of truths and
turns it back and it's on you
it's paranoia paranoia
at a glance inside of who
not the one you thought you knew
maybe it was never you
things were different you'd lose
find a catalogue of proof
or a dialogue of use
the admission of
LanguishSick of my sickness with the language barrier
find a new character and my thoughts might carry her
stuck on the crest of my friccative wave
I need a new brain hole, and a new wave to save me/
sick of my sickness and I can't get rid
burn a hole in my head when I'm flicking eyelids
clicking my fingers and I'm blaming the timezones
ticking the clock off ignore the power that the hands hold/
sick of my apathy and of being on a downturn
pissing them off with the message that my frown earns
forgetting that faces have a language of their own
well versed and rehearsed there, I'm holding on, though/
Sick of my sickness with the braindead bitch
with the realisation I'm the one true hitch
remembering now that it's all down to tone
get the fuck off the keys and back into the zone.
It's sad but it's true that that's what I do.
You'd think that it's useful, clairvoyance
a truthful reminder of all that's to come,
I'll write in my diary so I can remind me of everything that could be done.
But therein's the problem you see:
the future, quite naturally,
is a definite thing, a condition of truth
and the only thing I've got is absolute proof
that the things that'll pass are just destined to happen,
to build and to ruin,
to break and to rescue,
so all I can do is to politely ask you to please, if you please-
should I take you to task- let me lead with a question and hear what i ask
that you might answer in full understanding of what we all know, and here all I'm demanding
is truth to placate me so I can let go
of a foreshadowing that'd passed long ago.
WholeI'm no longer a shrinking victim,
Mild as a lamb and strong as a boar,
My past is in the dust behind me,
I won't look back there anymore!
I'll still struggle and fall short,
But I'll keep soldiering on,
I hear them trying to tear me down,
But I know they're jaded and wrong!
I won't be defined by old mistakes,
Because I know my heart and my soul,
My heart has scars but it's open wide,
The journey has made me whole!
Mary Jane's Metal MandiblesLittle girl, with your tip-top-
-bursting metal eyes.
Rolling tongues onto tabs,
with a cellophane surprise.
Take your lipstick-stain aluminum,
and kiss the face of shame.
Roll your dice upon a carotid-cloud,
for misconstruing fame
And you can sock-hop flip flop-
-for pennies formed to pearls.
Bounce back onto the plastic wrap,
with tinsel trains and curls.
But you can't conceal the label,
'cause the mirrors always sing.
Don't know why you cut your hashtag
out of fundamental things.
So pull your bright-hot slipknot-
-and watch it fall out.
Tarp holes upon your masterpiece,
of moldy clay and grout
Little girl with your down-drop-
-rain and thunder eyes.
Rolling grief onto hearts,
with your tattle-tale lies
You can beat down the pavement,
'till you've gone dark 'round the bend.
But promise, cruel and clockwork heart...
...come back at the end.
The Cheerleader and the Lonely GirlThe Cheerleader and the lonely girl,
You know them both very well.
Preppy, dark, loud and mysterious
Both have a story to tell.
You probably will assume,
Before reading this poem,
That the cheerleader is popular,
While the lonely girl is alone.
But what you don’t know,
About this over used story,
Is that the cheerleader is kind,
She doesn’t bask in her glory.
Did you know that she,
At the young age of five,
Was hit by her mother,
Every time she would cry.
Bruises and scars,
Riddled her skin,
Her large eyes would water,
And tears would stain her chin.
But she didn’t give up,
She remained strong and proud,
So that’s why when she cheers,
She excites the crowd.
She is the cheer captain,
The cream of the crop,
But don’t think without effort,
She made it to the top
And then there’s the lonely girl,
Who has a tight family.
Who has a mother and father,
A good form of stability.
But they don’t understand her,
They talk to her still,
But she ignores them
Your smileOn seeking solace in your smile,
it soothed my troubled heart,
soon hoped that you would stay around
and this would be the start
of something good that happens when
a happy face beguiles,
a love so true
just me and you
all started with your smile.
Now I sit and just remember and
ponder for a while,
on laughing eyes so blue,
on our love so true
and how you made me smile.
by Suzanne Karbach Sept 2014
the fall of the last monarchy (reworked)butterfly promise
weighs the feather wind, no less
than the plight he is.
Forgive MeThey found my lover on the side of the road
With twisted limbs and blood running cold
A car lead askew, burst into flames
Her limp silhouette is all that remains
Memories flash of hours before
Of me shouting, cursing and slamming the door
Of a heated argument leading into a fight
The sound of her engine speeding into the night
I collapsed to my knees in the grass at her side
Where blood painted the scene of her violent goodbye
Her final moments spent in misery’s embrace
Black mascara running down her face
If only I hadn't been so fucking pissed
To let such harsh words escape from my lips
I grasped her hand, pressed it to my cheek
Hoping to feel her soothing heartbeat
But she had already left me behind
To puruse the heaven on earth she couldn’t find
Through pain and remorse, my tears quietly flowed
They found my lover on the side of the road
Basic BehaviorI used to love you
With furious madness
But your desires
Blew me over.
The greed divides
Oceans and hearts
Living in anger.
You leave us
To reach the stars
With useless lungs
Full of holes
Our “perfect” world.
I need you
Right here with me
But you forgot
This lost soul.
Now I won
The wrong mind
I wrote your name
And it’s impossible
Notice me...I remember..
Those cold nights of isolation..
Those nights worrying about being hit or not....
Waking up in a nightmare..
Trusting no man.
I am stronger,
and I am older.
I am no longer under your roof,
I am no longer under your control.
I have no more bruises from your fists,
from your belt,
from your shoes.
I AM stronger.
I am living..
waking up in cold sweats..
worrying that you are near me..
scared that I would wake up with you near me...
terrified of being hit again..
and hoping to be noticed by you..
I am not that into football.
I tend to write about my feelings,
than say them.
I am not your spawn.
heartsim crouched in my own little world
filled with fear
until your bright light shines and i can see clear
im here in my own little world
filled with hope
as you pull away and i struggle to cope
i sit in my own little world
that you arent who i first had known you to be
whilst i sit in my own little world
that the world has just left me far behind.
This is my own little world,
Torn apart - but the truth is - it only exists in my Heart...
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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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