|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Beautiful EnoughMeet a girl named No One, with a heart of shattered stone
Staring at the other girl, the one that's not alone
Girl with skin that glistens, with the eyes of crystal seas
Grin of shining diamonds and a laugh like a disease
Flashes just a glance and soon, she's every trouble's cure
She has everything… and No One's off to be like her.
Eating turns into a crime, she'd rather be away
Thrusting fingers down her throat to make herself okay
Watching as her very bones are seen behind her flesh
There she drowns in tears, for she has not yet seen success.
Minutes turn to hours, and these hours turn to days
Every moment slipping, slowly fading into grey
Rapidly, her body turns to nothing but her bones
As she fights for beauty, as she battles for the throne.
Broken hearts must learn to beat, and this she came to know
Learning it the hard way when her heartbeat grew too slow
Yet, she somehow managed still to shine from what's within
Lying in her casket with her hidden, unseen sin.
Final thoughts ins
Fading Shades of GreyDearest reader, please think twice before you try to speak
Words can be like knives that cause the victim to grow weak
Thoughts can be as bullets shooting freely through the sky
Injuring the innocent with every spoken lie
Please forget my laughter, please forget my broken heart
Please do not remember how you tore my life apart
Leave me as a memory that slowly fades to grey
Spend your days as usual, and I shall fade away
Listen to my cry for help, although it is too late
I've become the monster that you struggled to create
Trying to be perfect was a wonderful mistake…
Now I mustn't worry about which chance I will take.
Please erase all memory of who I tried to be
Please do not remember how I tried to be set free
Please do not be saddened under any circumstance …
What's makes now so different from when you still had a chance?
HeartbeatThough these words are dreaded, I feel it is time to say
All the things I never told you since we died away
All the things I liked the most, the things that made you real
These thoughts must be spoken for my broken heart to heal
Sure, I hate the feeling rushing through my broken veins
Every piece of lost emotion, every bit of pain
Even though this emptiness is cradling my soul
All that haunts me now is how I let it take control
All the tears, the madness, how I let it overrule
To my own existence, I myself have been so cruel
Never did I dare to say these words of lonely truth
Even though I know that isolation kills one's youth…
Here I am to say something I should have said before
Rather than refusing, simply shutting solid doors
Ever since you left me, all I think about is us
Every drop of moonlight seems to me like specks of dust
Ever since you vanished, yes, I've been vanishing too…
Each and every heartbeat is an angry cry for you…
SomethingEvery moment, every thought, an echo in your mind
Every treasured lullaby you're forced to leave behind
Every broken moment, every twisted fantasy
Every empty shadow, every lonely melody
Holding knives against your skin with tears inside your eyes
Fighting back the happiness, yet fighting back the cries
How could one be joyous at a moment such as this?
Something could be stopping you, but nothing truly is…
EscapeEmpty twisted promises within a world so dead
Memories of heartache cradle thoughts inside my head
Wounds continue bleeding on forgotten storybooks
Listen to your nightmares and the happiness they took
Can't you see the shadows with the knives inside their hands?
Watching you as they invade your secret wonderland
Silence won't protect you from the thoughts inside your mind
Nobody can save you from the torture on rewind
I can't see the people, but they're always seeing me
Anywhere and everywhere… they never let me be
Sometimes they stand quietly behind my bedroom door
Sometimes it's the microphones they hide under the floor
Sometimes it's the cameras in the ceilings or the wall
This time it's the photo frames… they'll kill me if they fall.
Everybody tells me that it's all inside my head
All I'll ever know is that I'm better if I'm dead
Maybe it's imagination gone completely wrong
If it's just my own creations, why are they so strong?
Maybe I can fight the tears and other things I dread
I can see itI can feel the shadows taking thoughts from deep inside
I can feel their poison sinking far into my mind
I can hear the little girl, so innocent, so sweet
I can taste the venom in the few things I do eat
I can hear them calling me, my name upon their tongues
I can feel them all around me, filling up my lungs
I can feel their every breath, so warm upon my skin
I can feel their vicious souls appearing from within
I can feel it, I can hear it, right in front of me
Why do you ignore it? You are not the one who sees…
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"
No. I'm dying. I have to push myself to wake up in the morning, and when I finally do, I want to go back to sleep. Even my best dreams are becoming nightmares. I can't taste food, I can't stand the things I used to love. I'm breaking. I'm fading. I'm dying.
Definition of a Writerwrit•er
A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery
They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish
A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own
They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone around
And make this journey an unforgettable experience
Writers are masters of inspiration
And will set aside whatever may ruin the ecstasy of their writing
Which they will forever embrace
And will fight to claim the title author
In their world of words
Their stories are set free
Some are killed to b
Let Them In.With my back to the door
I can’t help but fall to the floor
Out of breath, out of time
Out of sight, out of my mind
They’re tempting me; they lead astray
They mark my words; I am their prey
I can’t fight them anymore
So let them in and end this war
Leave me to my demons
Let them have at me
And strip me of my reasons
To ever be happy
I am broken enough
So that they fit in the cracks
I never wanted to be this
But now there’s no turning back
Let them take control
Because without you in my life
This is how a person like myself
Can ever become whole.
Why I Stopped WritingHere's a little story about me,
about my skill to paint a grim little scene,
to make the mind creak,
to talk of those things which we don't like to speak.
I was a girl of sixteen and I had a dream,
to exist so broken hearted that I would know,
know to the core,
that love was as real as I thought it should have been.
I was dramatic to say the least and wrote poems spanning ages,
wrote of crashed cars and seeing those eyes again later,
FEELING that stare,
knowing that though time had passed,
he'd not actually gone anywhere.
English class came,
seemed so lame,
most days in the back with the boys,
getting out of work with the most clever ploys.
Then one day the teacher said,
we could share our writing,
with all the others,
to my in
I Am a WriterI am a writer.
Yes, it’s easy for me to fall into a dream.
But there is nothing wrong with being tighter
With a story’s theme.
I am a writer.
That is all I will ever want to be
In the end, my story will be lighter,
And my characters will finally be free.
I am a writer.
There is nothing easier to say than that.
I will never let a story wither
Nor let a story fall flat
I am a soon to be author.
With several books ready to be read,
I want them to have great honor
And wish there will be tears shed.
A Cry For LifeMy life is like a rough draft
that has been thrown away
My life is like every child's nightmare
that never goes away
I've ran, I've cried,
too many times I should have died
Too easy that would be
you see, struggle, pain, reality.
They said they loved me
Did the world lie?
I feel my inner fire now has died
Give me back my spark
oh ye hateful one
My hopes, my dreams
My life's not yet done
Suppressed BrillianceAm I insane or philosophical?
Are my theories minute or astronomical?
Irrelevant or significant?
Are the machinations of my brain,
Foolish or magnificent?
Thank God that I am resilient,
Because you have been suppressing my brilliance,
All this time telling me that I am crazy,
But you were wrong all along,
Failing to see that I fit the pieces,
Of life’s puzzle together differently,
To compose a unique song,
Just because you don’t understand,
My thought process,
Doesn’t mean that you are smarter than me,
Watch me create a wonder,
And you shall see….
ConstructDelving into the origins
Of what makes an individual
Who are you? Who am I?
There’s a lack of understanding,
Yet we jump to judge
And claim to know
That which we could never understand
Attempts are seldom made
To investigate the unknown
To strive to discover
Those we claim to know
From the inside out
Extract the innermost thoughts
In place there is an idealist mirage
To which our beliefs shall cling to
In desperation, or disbelief
It’s the construct of our mindset
That leads us all astray
Check The MeaningIn barely legible handwriting
Scribbled on to the medicine bottle label
Is my name Grayson Oliver Dowd
And two letters printed in ink of bold sable
In haste I didn't check the meaning
It makes sense now that O.D. stands for Once Daily
But I took it to mean Over Dose
Oh how my rational mind once again fails me
Soon after I see the weathered words
Inscripted deeply on to the granite gravestone
Here lies Grayson Oliver Dowd
With an epiphanic epitaph ‘he died alone’
Waking from my sleep I check the meaning
I realise R.I.P. stands for Rest In Peace
And not Recovery Is Possible
So my dose of dopamine I shall decrease
In barely legible handwriting
Scribbled onto the medicine bottle label
Is my name Grayson Oliver Dowd
And two letters printed in ink of bold sable
My shaking hand struggles with the child lock
Let me flush these pills away and out of sight
Oh Dear reads the letters on the label
It appears that you
Sleep ParalysisIt is suffocating. This force, a nightly visitor, watches over me. I’d thought I’d gotten rid of it, but there he is, crouching on the ceiling above me.
My eyes are shut tight, blocking out the dim streetlight streaming through my window like the great wooden doors of a fort. My hands are clenched on the blankets I’m pulling in tighter, despite the sweat beginning to mat my hair. The world around me begins to blur away as I focus something, anything, to take me away from this darkness. His presence intoxicates me momentarily, for he wears the mask of sleep, but I recognize soon recognize him and begin to panic. My mind races, frantically searching for a happy memory, but these peaceful visions only leave me open and defenseless.
He seizes the opportunity, and swoops down towards my face. I don’t even feel him land. This ferociously graceful beast, now hunched over me, lets his jaw drop. The piecing drone of five sleepless nights is echoed in his cry. He sits on
Dark DisguiseFeel the broken heartbeats ripping through your troubled soul
Tearing through your very skin to take complete control
Hear the words among your tongue through voices not your own
Slicing through the air and fighting for the golden throne
Sorrowful, you disappear into the shadows thick
Blanketing yourself with thoughts so cruel, so cold, so sick
Knowing that if only you had someone to be near
Every aching memory would likely disappear
Shattered bits of moonlight shine upon the broken earth
Proving once again how much an echo may be worth
Let the damaged hearts unite and save them from the lies
Let them see that love is not always a dark disguise…
Keep in Touch!
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