|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Lonely FlashRain is pouring, lightning falls
In streaks of violet-blue
But thunder never follows
Countdowns never cease
A thousand cries
Never heard by human ears
Why is it that this incompletion seems so familiar?
As if the absence exists somewhere near?
Could perhaps I be compared to the lonely lightning flash
Seen, yet lacking voice
Or perhaps lacking ears to listen
But I think, like the lightning with no voice
There are those who wait, to listen
And like thunder
My voice will be heard in a resounding boom
The Colourful Escapades.A small, blue indigo crayon stood upright at the edge of a table, staring, however the heck that was possible, at the door to room 312. Soon, through that very door would come miniature, tubby little things with sticky hands that grab and pull, that would bring his brand new pointed tip down onto standard sized letter paper with enough force to snap him in half, which if he had a nervous system, would cause more screams to arise from his non-existent throat than would from that one blonde chick in old horror movies. Soon, from that very door, would emerge the very bane of his existence.
But this particular crayon had a plan. A master plan for his entire box of beautifully pointed and colourful friends. They were going to escape this dreadful place, and very soon.
He toppled onto his side and rolled to the opening of his box, signalling for the others to emerge, for soon, they would be taking action.
"CRAYONS" He shouted at the top of his lungs that didn't really
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
DifferentDifferent on the outside,
Different mask you see daily,
Different girl you call ‘Hailey’
To my surprise
Your ears are distracted,
So I tell lies, looking into your eyes,
“Yea I’m fine. Simply tired”
For that response my brain is wired.
Different mouth you hear speaking,
Different voice you hear screaming
Different eyes you see pleading,
Different person you’d befriended
I’m sorry this is how it’s ended.
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
Ignorance is BlissRemember the time
When life seemed so kind
When in our innocent struggles, we were essentially blind
To reality and it's horrible truths
Death seemed so distant,
But it was so close to us anyways
We never had a second thought,
Not about consequences,
Not about loved ones being taken away
To death we were oblivious
Despite how its effects were so obvious
Oh, how I wish
to go back to that ignorant bliss
Keep in Touch!