|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
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.
The Face At The DoorThe face at the door is a demon, a god
He smiles through stitches, his stare rather odd
The face at the door is a cruel, silent being
Yet, people are calm, and the children aren't fleeing
Quiet yourself, for you're the only one
Crying for help at the point of a gun
Learn how to fly, rather, learn how to fall,
The face at the door... well... there's no face at all.
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…
CanvasLet her paint a masterpiece,
Let her paint a lie
Let her paint a word inside the shining silver skies.
Let her paint a mystery,
Let her paint a sin
Let her paint the things that lie in darkness deep within.
Let her paint a masterpiece
(but this time there's a twist)
Make the brush a blade and let the canvas be her wrist...
AnorexiaMeet 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
You and MeCrystal drops of water resting sweetly in her eyes
Take her hand and hold her, wipe away her very cries
Take her through a forest lying deep within her mind
Shining gowns and silver crowns to which she once was blind
Take her through a meadow with the sparkling light blue skies
Wash away her guilt and say hello to the goodbyes
Quick, before she melts away, do take her hand and show
Everything she really never truly got to know
Quick, before she disappears, before she never sees
All that things could soon become and all that things could be
Take her shaking hands and hold them softly inside yours
Show her what was once a wall can turn into a door
Quick, before she vanishes, do show her all ahead
Look into those diamond eyes and speak the words so dead
All she needs to know is that, no matter what could be
Nothing is more powerful than the words "you and me"...
Love AgainHear my worries, fear my cries
Dread the whispered lullabies
Drown beneath the spinning skies
Feel the truth you can't deny
Taste the blood upon your tongue
Feel the poison fill your lungs
I am she who lies among
Those who know where things belong
Feel the weapons kiss your skin
Listen to the screeching wind
See my power, watch me win…
And never fall in love again…
CancerFeel the pain aching through your bones
Your flesh, seemingly fading to dust
Your mind, burning
Your thoughts, racing.
"It'll be okay."
No it won't.
Fight the tears, your father can't see you cry.
You're a fighter.
"You can do this."
No, I can't.
You don't have cancer.
Is who you are.
The Story of a Homeless Young GirlThere she lies on dirty pillows
Scratching the bottoms of sidewalks
Some people wish for a house made of gold
Well, she just wishes for a home.
Some people wish for a lovely dinner
While she simply wishes for a meal.
But a smile lies
On her innocent face
For she does not yet know greed.
Keep in mind the girl's young age
Her innocence toward anger and rage.
A girl with the eyes filled with silent pain
But nevertheless, a smile on her face.
One day a man came about
And offered her something to eat.
Two apples and a bread of wheat.
She took some bread crumbs and gave them to the birds
Without crying a tear or saying a word.
So she split what remained of the bread right in two
And gave him one of the fruit.
"Let's share it," she said, with a grin on her face
"For there's nobody else willing to."
I am not my illness.To find fear in Campbell's soup cans:
not the cans themselves, perhaps,
but in the press of the aisles,
as if the shelves lean inward to cocoon me,
not warm, but suffocating
a shower of tumbling canisters, wild purpling bruises,
the anticipated laughter of onlookers.
Imagined images, but my palms sweat anyway.
Take the soup cans off the shelf:
chicken noodle for lunches at work,
cream of mushroom, broccoli,
chicken stock for casseroles.
The check-out is just three list items away,
and this time I'm going to make it;
I am not my illness.
To find fear in thin sheets of legal paper:
not in the lines and matted bleached fibres,
but in the words I must scribe for
part A, part B, part C
pick a question, one of two for each part,
write answers, full sentences, spelling counts.
Swallow bottle of pills if the result is not an A plus?
Worthless, worthless, must do better!
Just an exam, but to me, my whole self-worth.
Choke down terror, press pen down,
Break FreeI've been walking through rain
Can't get any wetter
Just another joke
Lurching in a hooded sweater
With no place to roam
Born the product
Of a broken home
I can't say any more
Because I've said it all
Curled in a ball
With no wearwithal
Trying to fly
Without any wings
Getting pissed off
At the stupidest things
But that's about it
I've had quite enough
I'll just soak it all in
The smooth and the rough
Forget being mad
Or getting depressed
No room for sorrow
Or all the rest
I must pause a moment
Just so I can breathe
It's the only solution
When my emotions seethe
Fill my lungs with air
And feel it release
Start taking advantage
Of the time that I cease
And when I break free
From this rut that I'm in
I'll be able to go
Where no one else has been
The rain will clear
The sun will shine
I'll remove my coat
And walk down the line
I'll go slow at first
Then begin to jog
Move up to a sprint
And run like a dog
With the wind in my hair
And a smile on my face
It's impossible to tire
With Anxiety Behind My EyesHow to begin... Firstly, I thought I didn't need anyone and now I do, more than ever. Recently my pain has shattered itself into pieces, tinkling as each fragment hits the floor with a sickening tinkling sound, concentrating my complete feeling of loss and despair...
The pen taps on the table, marking out a steady, rhythmic pattern. Already a dent is forming in the wood; it's shallow, but just hollow enough for the girl to see. She rakes a hand through her peroxide-blonde hair, running her fingers through the black roots and pink fringe. She can feel the colours there and she bites her lip carefully, so as not to draw blood; she wouldn't want that.
It's only recent, you must know. Well, no, I correct myself for it's been going on longer than these past months. You'd recognise it if I told you what my suspicions were but I can't bear to tell you face to face. Besides, I'd rather you work it out for yourselves.
Every breath comes with a rattling noise, the sound reverberat
AnxietyMy pulse beats quickly,
My lungs feel tight.
I hate this feeling
This superficial fright.
The nervous sensation
And tears I cry,
Prevent me from living,
I can't understand why.
The nausea in my stomach,
Stops me from having a life.
Losing all purpose,
This can't be right.
These thoughts overcome me,
As I try to be strong.
Crushing my hopes,
Causing me to do wrong.
Your anger lashes out on me,
When you just can't comprehend.
I'm sorry that I'm this way,
I want this nightmare to end.
AzraelHe was just standing there, by the graffiti stained walls of a ghetto parking lot. It did not suit him at all, what with his blanca skin and raven lashes. This man was like a Roman god painting, dreadfully cut and paste unto a poor man's parking lot.
She was six and thought him to be a man of twenty two, just like her eldest cheerleader sister. Teddy bear still in hand and mother still busy searching for her car keys, she stood there, gaze steady, in awe of the young man's beauty.
It came as quite a shock to him when he noticed her eyes sparking, bright and full of life, looking at him. He let out a deep sigh and curled his pointer finger to signal her to come close, and she obeyed.
As she was walking closer, she noticed two more things: first, that this man had radiating white wings and second, diamond-like tears were falling from his eyes. When she asked him why he was crying, he answered, "I'm the person you go to if He finds it is time to bring you home, not just the person who pla
LossI tried to grasp your soul
So I leaned in for a kiss
But your heart is there no more
How can I live like this
You tried to carry the world
But your arms were too weak
I would've help you carry on
We could've been “Beauty and the Freak”
Just like a concrete wall
You wouldn't let love in
But you had a weak spot
A place where you were thin
And when the sky was too sad
We used to watch it cry
You used my shoulders instead
Did as you pleased just for the night
For I believe I can still catch your soul
I will steal another kiss
Until this sadness is no more
Can I be happy like this
So when you were out in the world
Because your arms were too weak
You could've just give me call
I’d be there in a heartbeat
I promise this is the last one
Even though I don’t want it to end
Now I know we are really done
Rest in peace, my dearest friend
Circus: The FunambulanceWalking the tripwire
between not glorifying suicide
and not patronising people
with the lie; I would never
- I suck in my nausea and fight
not to close my eyes as I
vulnerable and afraid
in front of my tenderhucked audience.
Their eyes pluck out
and give an attentive
standing ovation as I exhale
and stagger forward
- a shout,
a fall -
and for a moment
I wonder if there is
a safety net there for me at all,
and if my devoted audience
would prefer to see my
neck//shatter on stage.
Winds 1The house is dilapidated: the roof is bent sideways, a few of the windows are busted out, and several of the boards that had made up the structure are now broken and jutting in every direction. It's a pitiful image, but it'll have to do for shelter. Nightfall is fast approaching and the father and his sons need a place to stay. Here is as good as anywhere.
They wrench themselves through the slanted front door. The inside is just as unwelcoming as the out. Everything is grimy and sad. The remnants of what was once a home look betrayed and hopeless.
The oldest son, Isaac, wanders into a nearby bedroom and finds a fallen-over bookshelf. The books it once held are scattered across the floor, sopping and ruined from the rain that had come through the hole in the ceiling directly above. He picks them up, one by one, and inspects them. The covers and pages are soggy, the print faded beyond legibility. He almost wants to cry. It
I am notI’m not your little boy.
You’re not my little girl.
I’m just someone you met,
And wants to change the world
I’m not the prince in your dreams
I don’t have smarts or might
I’m just the one that screams
And cries to sleep at night
I’m not who you want me to be.
I will never be what you are.
I’m myself, I am free.
I’m not ashamed of my scars
I’m not that weak
You’re not that strong
You still have company
But I’m still alone
So I speak
Though this poem.
It’s not a pretty love song
I’m just saying what pains me, explaining what’s going on.
Because I am not perfect,
I’m not retarded,
I’m just like you,
There is always a reason to be
And I won’t regret
I’m always happy to be me.
QuicksandHere I stand in quicksand, watch me falling to the earth
Drenched with insecurity and bathed in lost self-worth
Monster underneath me, quickly rising to the skies
Here I stand in quicksand, like a puddle of goodbyes
Here I stand in quicksand, sinking deeper into dirt
Ease the pain inside of me, I hate the way it hurts
Slowly being swallowed by the shadows, by the ground
Here I stand in quicksand… it's too late to catch me now…
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