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Judge Me? Know Me?I am human.
I fell down when I was learning to walk and needed help back up. I cried my heart out over a dead bird and refused to stop crying until we had a funeral for it, and then cried harder when it was buried because I couldn't imagine a worse fate than being forgotten. I kissed a frog because I wanted to see if the fairy tales were true and the frog was really a person, trapped. I danced in the rain in my underwear because I thought that rain deserved to be absorbed by as much skin as possible, and I loved summer rain more than anything in the world. I loved to eat sugar when no one was looking, I climbed trees and made up stories about living in the forest and I dreamed about flying to magical places hidden in the sky. I was a kid, and I was beautifully myself. I wasn't afraid.
I am like you.
I hate doing homework but secretly love how it feels when I get the math problems right- like I'm the smartest person alive. I love to swim, so I kiss the water good morning and am envelope
i needed-hated-loved youThere are many things about you that entice me. The way you look, beckon, the way you feel. You can pull such a reaction out of me, it's crazy. I'm crazy. I'm so, so crazy for loving and hating and needing you for survival. No, for sanity. I never needed anything to survive, because for some reason, I just don't die. It's not as simple as you'd think, you see. There is no perfect recipe. And beyond that, there isn't enough courage left in me to deal with anything, deal with it besides just surviving. Just existing. But I've needed you to bring some sort of order, some way of marking time and bringing life out of the monotony that is mine.
I needed you.
Now, it's not a need. It just is. You just are. You've grown more and more beautiful as this relationship has grown more and more controlling. Why do you control me? At what point did this become a nightmare instead of a love story-- a cackle over a laugh? I don't understand, but I do. Everyone tells me that I understand al
Last CallThere are days when she tells me that there's nothing left we can do, and I ask her why she told me "we". She tells me there was never a difference; that when she dies, so do I. I say that I already knew that, but she refuses to look at me and I never truly knew, did I. She had brown eyes and twelve wishes, but the wish she wished for the most was for me to survive her, because nobody ever survives love's death. I told her she would never die; she told me I was invincible.
We were both such imperfect liars.
"We". It is the only word she can force from her lungs, the ones that are half-collapsed and refuse to be taken to the ER. It costs too much to save a life, she explains, and I want to know why our lives aren't worth that much. I try to explain that she is more than paper, but she isn't. She is more than anything, and we both know that she'll stay in the flicker of candlelight, stay in the reflections in irises. But I will not, and that makes her laugh because it's so sad; she is ki
AveragesHer skin was beautiful. And I was never more than a piece of memory, a breath held for a second, and yet she told me that I was the best kind of tattoo. I was unregretted ink without the sharpness of a needle and she told me that it felt better than okay. Okay? Okay, someone told me that John Green was a writer and that I sounded like Hazel Grace in my attempts to tell this untattooed girl that I was only human and that she was only a canvas for hope among the hallways of our hells, but it was true. And she told me that maybe this person was right occasionally, but I still sat in their kitchen eating salad like I ate hamburgers in my backyard as a little boy, messy and young, while my life was guided by the cook. There's something about drinking in advice while you drink water.
Her opinion of me was that I was slightly crazy and messy and quite often a screw up, and that has always been true, up until the last day before our next life adventure and I managed to get sidelined
WonderingYou know that sometimes I think that my skin is ripping itself away from my core on purpose, like a validation, a badge of honor adhering to the correctness of the way that I think. Although I am wrong, and even the badge knows that. So maybe I don't understand society and its utter hate for certian colours on certian people; maybe I really truly hate following the rules that I can't comprehend but maybe I just want this to end and you don't know me. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
Today, my eyelashes are flinging themselves to the wind, but they're keeping their wishes for a better soul.
I decided, last week, that I would lose 25 pieces of myself in the hope that maybe I'll find someone easier to love, harder to hate. I know that this looks just like my fifteen-year-old destructiveness but I promise you that I only know how to pair love with pain. And it makes sense to me. Don't ever take something away from someone before you know what it means to them, because maybe it means thei
One Of These DaysI grew tall when you kissed me, and shorter when you were gone. There's a loneliness, something, in knowing that you are an imagination for now, that you are out there and you exist but you are not mine. Yet, I should say. You aren't mine yet, and that makes me a little mad, a little worried, because I don't know who is holding onto you, who isn't, if you are loved, if you are hated.
And occasionally, I just want to make it so that I'll meet you sooner, I'll keep you longer, I'll make it better faster and you will learn what it is like to be loved.
To be loved? I do not know this meaning yet, either, and it's a dark thought. There is a certian emptiness in knowing that you have not been memorized, been mapped, become an imprintation on someones mind, heart, being. There's an emptiness in curling up alone, colder, fitting nowhere, feeling like the second piece to a puzzle that hasn't been finished quite yet, feeling the ice-air pull my bones apart faster because you aren't a barrier to
XI have consistently caved in on sunset-ridden mornings and leapt higher than ever during blank nights, and lately I've been wearing headphones plugged into nothing, lately I've been falling back into my thoughts and less into the real world. You ground me, you hold me in the somewhere, the place that I can live without suffocating on the painfulness of my existence, a place where I can breathe in dreams and cry with hope, a place where I am always halfway floating away. But I never quite lift off, because I know that you're there, waiting.
you know that I don't really want you to go away.
I do know that.
You've been laughter to me, something beautiful, something that sounds like happiness bursting from our lungs, unstoppable. You've been the remedy to the impossible puzzle that half of my life has been, you've been the beat to the song I've had dancing around my mind for years. You're something else entirely, I hope you realize that. You're the one thing that I've looked
SongwriterShe loved to sing. She sang to the sky, to the air, to the birds. She sang for the pure joy of singing; she sang because it was a part of her that loved being alive. And mostly, she sang for the love of love. I told her that love existed, and I still tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that it didn't matter when she described to me the loves, described to me who she wanted [needed]. I tried not to show her that the things she told me in her singsong voice was painful. Wasn't love suppose to hurt?
Once, I asked her to sing for me. She told me I was crazy.
She sang melodies, she sang songs; she sang lyrics to the tone of heartbreak, she sang poems that spoke of hope. She sang until her voice became a whisper, and mine became a roar. And I still told her that she was beautiful. I still pretended like I didn't desperately want to kiss her, to coax the songs from her lips, to hold her. I just wanted to hold her, and she told me that she wanted more than that. [Maybe she was lying, I told m
Make Me RealI have told you.
I have told you my fears, my dreams, my secrets. I've told you that some of these secrets will never come out, and that is true. They'll never escape me voluntarily, because they were never created in a way that would let them escape that way. But I need you, and I need you to understand me as much as I struggle to understand you, I need you to look at me and tell me that I'm a puzzle piece as well, I need you to convince me. I need you to be honest, but I also need you to lie.
Because lies are what I swallow best.
I have told you that I had a past, and a present, and a future. But I've never told you exactly how scrambled they are to me. I've never shown you exactly how hard it is for me to remember what's real, truly real. And the last thing that you don't know is that I'm scared that you're too good to be true. I'm scared to find out that you're just inside my head, like everything else is. I'm scared of the dark, and it's not because of what's under t
Tell Me You Felt Thattell me you felt that
i saw a glimpse of memory-
behind those sullen eyes
you've grown tired,
wanting to change for
everyone else out there
in that city of liars
that stole you
but i know you
i know you
better than anyone else could
the real you,
not some paper thin facade
i liked it best
when you told me everything,
when you let yourself love me
i was good enough then
i liked it best
the way your palm fit into mine,
like it was the only thing your hand was meant
and i miss being
in your life
i miss it.
i miss the little things you did
and now it hurts to see your place
and it hurts to see how everyone has forgotten.
and i won't
yes, i care even still.
the people you're showing off to? no
they can't possibly feel the love i feel for you
it isn't feasible.
to them, you are only a name and a plain jane face
you are the nights i'll never get back
One Time, Never More.Never have I felt someone's heart so close to my own.
Someone's pulse beat alongside mine,
Someone's smile tug at my heart and leave me smiling myself.
Never before have I let someone into my head so freely.
Let them wander in my daydreams,
Let them brush their fingers over the flowers in my mind,
Let them sway to the music of my memories.
Never have I found such beauty hidden behind such simplicity.
Such wisdom crouching behind the innocence of youth.
Such shimmering perfection waiting behind the agony of regret.
You're the first I've ever met who has put me at ease.
Who has made my words fumble over each other,
Yet cleared the chaos of my thoughts.
Who has occupied so many dreams,
Yet given me so many beautiful sleepless nights.
Who has made my hands shake,
Yet made my heart so calm.
Never again will I find someone who I can allow to make home in my heart.
Someone who will keep the place clean.
Someone who will never walk dirt into the carpet.
Someone who will never answer the door t
Crazy DayBack and forth
Up and Down
round and round and round
I can't catch my breath
It'll be for sure my death
I can't even find time to rhyme.
Somebody hold me down.
One Last Look Before MadnessI knew he was going to touch you
It had been more than idle chatter and it had not been vindictive
but he told me all the same.
Like telling me the sky was blue or water was wet.
I tried to rush to arrive first
but I was delayed and now the point is moot.
It was supposed to be
your first, your only,
but I was late to the party and now you're his.
Or you will be soon enough.
There is nothing I can do.
Instead I stand here,
elbows upon the brick balcony,
my head in my hands,
my heart and body aching.
We all knew I had missed my opportunity
and I have no one to blame but myself
but that fact does not stop the self loathing I feel
neither the dark anger towards you both.
I should leave, before I see him and...
crumpled and flushed from the ravaging,
looking like you'd been eaten ali
SixAugust seems empty...
We parted in July. I loved you too much. I had not thought that would become too much for you to handle. And that we would part on a technicality.
It was a stormy eve. And the lightening broke us apart, so easily it almost made you glad.
I know. The storm outside matched the storm in your voice.
I'll always be surprised at what can happen when two people begin to hate each other.
We fought in June.
When your work was getting you down and your parents were putting pressure on you and your world seemed to be falling apart.
I wanted to help you. I tried.
You told me to leave you alone.
We talked for hours in May.
And you told me about your life, about the broken dreams and the mesmerizing aspirations that you once had. And I told you about my responsibilities and my hopes. We understood each other.
We thought we would have an eternity to discuss other things. Like a future and the distance and the friends who thought you were not good enough and that I w
I wish I was SpecialHands on my body like sandpaper
My hands on your body like silk
I don't know who seduced who but we both came willingly.
with words of angels and tears dancing around us like black butterflies.
I fell years ago and it would seem you've been here for longer.
I wish I was what you thought I was and, though I know I will never be, you took me there for tonight.
Fine lines and scars. Pain and truth. Torment and Temptation.
I never earned this but I'll take what I can get,
if only for tonight,
if only it'll make us happy.
Hunting Trouble Down"I love you," he whispered against my belly.
It was a lie and we both knew it.
I rolled away and took the sheet with me.
"Yeah, well, I hate you, too."
And that was a lie as well.
Never AgainFor a good ten minutes I was speechless . I must have looked like quite an idiot, standing there with my jaw to my knees. What did he even mean by telling me that I didnt work hard enough to make the grade I was aiming for? How the hell would he know how fucking hard I worked?
Actually scratch that last thought.
Of course he would know.
We spent all together too much time together.
Then why would he I scowled and picked my jaw up off the floor. There was absolutely no way I was going to talk to him after this.
It was high time I broke up with him anyway.
He was judgmental and obnoxious and told lies that blew up in his face. Oh, and not to mention the fact that he took me for granted and I was beginning to suspect he was cheating on me.
I tucked the books under my arm defiantly and raised my chin in the air. Yes. I had made a decision. He was definitely not worth half the trouble he caused.
Hours later I watched his sleeping face as he lay besides me, the sheets only barely
Your Sacrifice"You can cut me, if you rather."
My voice was gentle and quite but you still gasped in surprise.
I suppose I should have made some noise to let you know I was there, but I had been standing in the bathroom's open doorway unnoticed for at least 2 minutes uncertain what to say or do...
I had found you, sitting on the bathroom floor, leaning back against the tub.
I watched you roll up your sleeve and choose the desired spot on your forearm.
I listened as you took deep breath then hold it before drawing the razor over and into your skin.
The ensuing hiss sounded more like a sigh and that's when I spoke.
I could keep silent no longer though obviously you had assumed I wasn't home as the blade cut more, cut deeper than intended.
With a sharp yelp, you yanked the blade back and glared up at me.
There was anger, defiance and betrayal in you beautiful brown eyes.
They're still beautiful no matter what emotion you turn towards me.
As long as they're not empty, I ca
such a shame.and they will say that they didn't see it coming, but they did. and we'll all pretend that we aren't lying, that we weren't lying the whole time, that we didn't see it coming because really, no one wanted to. and like it always goes, she was beautiful and never lied and helped everyone right up until the moment nobody remembered to help her back.
and like it always goes, this is a bittersweet speech with tears and roses and everybody's lying the way she always did, and everybody's trying to forget like she always did, trying to forget that she was the only one that bothered and they never bothered back which is why they're all here in the first place. and they're at loss for words and the sky is too bright, and she wrote us a letter, and she wrote us to tell us that we were no better than she ever was, we were liars and when we read it, we couldn't lie anymore and it was kind of a shame, because we liked our lies. we really did.
and it was sad, but we can't do much better than just sit
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More