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If I had a therapist, I'd show him thisDepression centers me.
It feels good to feel low, for a while, before the seed of it overgrows me.
Like a moldy cover that sticks to my skin, and doesn't let me get up.
It compliments my anxieties, at first. The pressure of doing something perfectly is met by a will to be invisible, and not having a single ambitious thought, so I end up somewhere in the middle, very average, and goddamn safe.
The hurtful brightness of my woeful apprehensiveness is washed out by the most beautiful, silent greys.
Thank you for being mean.
liarthere's nothing more sad than seeing someone loves that thing you stopped being ages ago. I will never go back to being that disgusting, little, unsure thing, but I can't stop lying to you.
car crashI wish I could crash in your tiny bed, after a long day at Uni. You'd creep up behind me, and hold me with your strong, spider arms, and plant kisses on my neck, and ideas of a bigger apartment in my mind.
"Some day, we'll have thirteen cats."
Scent of basic soap and tomato sauce.
AbyssNo one ever poured love in me.
Not when I was a child, they had other business to attend to, not when I became a functional member of a dysfunctional society, I'm not really pretty, and not really seductive.
It's simply hard for me to recognize when someone feels anything, but repulse for me.
There's this gaping hole in my soul I think no one can fix. Not the power of self-love, or love of others.
I'm just meant to stand here, wondering of affectionate caressing, and writing terrible poetry of miscommunicated lust. I cannot heal.
Afektivno udaljenaUlazimo u tvoj stan.
Njušim intenzivno privlačan miris cigareta tvog tate, Ronhill bijeli, pomiješan vjerojatno s tvojim bijednim pokušajem prikrivanja dima nečim cvjetnim. No, to mi nije smetalo.
Zidni sat, gradilište koje četiri ulice dalje.
Srećom, tata ti nije tu. Radi. Nešto. Negdje. Možda. Danas te ne slušam tako pažljivo, jer sam jako uznemirena. Znoj i trnci. Slatko na jeziku.
Srećom, razvukli smo kauč u dnevnom boravku i postavili najsmješnije plahte. Spustili rolete. Upalili glazbu, ne prejako, ne pretiho. Nismo navikli čuti da koža prianja uz kožu.
Boli me što ti pridajem toliko meni bitnih karakteristika. Dobar, viši nego što zbilja jesi, potišten i pun razumijevanja. Poluizmišljen si.
Sve što želimo je tu. Pretvaramo se da smo malo više zaljubljeni, malo manje nezaposleni i primjereno zagrljeni.
RomanticAm I insane for looking for you in a place with twenty thousand faces?
I made a bargain with destiny, something like, please, let him be there, let him see me, let me kiss him, and I'll do a hundred laps around the block, I'll clean my room, I will not stress about unimportant stuff.
Am I insane for being disappointed?
I made a deal no one honoured. I made a deal no one signed. You couldn't even see the stars that night from all the fireworks, not a single shooting star to seal the deal. Not even one, lonely star that could catch my peripheral vision. You could have been standing right underneath, all alone, ready to be mine. Like in a foreign film, and all we would say to each other is a song, and we're drunk on what we're becoming. All of a sudden I'm in a summer dress, and you're blinded by the Sun. The scent of winter changing into a summer dream appears.
Am I insane for expecting a year filled with something more than self-loathing and sitting in my room, and locking myself
Nothing means everything to meI think about you way more than I should.
I don't even know you, and you must think I'm ugly, but you smiled so genuinely at me that one time, when I was ever so impolitely staring.
You're in my stories, now, and you make me terrifyingly happy when I see you, out in the streets, waiting in line, pondering, because I'm remembering every time I imagined kissing you.
end it, bitchHave you ever had one of those moments where the inevitable future just crashes into your consciousness, and you can't stop seeing what you'll become for the seven hundredth time, and you can't ever fill the vacuoles that the forthcoming memories left in you?
I just know what I end up in every possible scenario.
I just know where I end up in every possible scenario.
Still here. Still as in ages ago.
I just know how I end up in every possible scenario.
By my own hand.
I just know why I end up in every possible scenario.
I never try. Not in one of those stories. I always quit. I always fail. I lose. I lost me.
Case of HorrorsWhat's most terrifying about ANXIETY is that it's not real, and it's not really me, it's a part of my brain that doesn't work properly, it's an illness, and it can be treated.
Still, more than anything, more than being crazy, I fear my anxiety being cured, I fear what it could possibly be like being sane, I fear the vast unknown of nonthreatening traffic lights and casual conversations.
I handle my crazy, I know the loopholes, I know the safe ways to reach food, office supplies, and vodka. I know when to keep my head down, and how not to impress anyone. Being unnoticed, and melancholically mediocre, while having every interaction tinted with the mild stench of throwing up. If I'm sane, everything changes.
Stuck in a vicious circle, where I'm paralyzed with this fear of not being afraid.
If an angel hears meIf there is an angel near me, I pray to remember me, and I know it will, at see my love for you.
Although I also know... that between me and her, the sky only have dark clouds...
I will pray, I will seek, I swear, I will find it, even if I had to look in a million stars.
In this dark life, absurd without you ... I feel you've become the center and the end of my universe...
If love have any limit, I would cross it for her, and in the vast emptiness of my nights, I feel you, and I will love you ... like I could love you for the first time, when a kiss was a whole lifetime...
Feeling like I lost all my mind... for you.
I understand that your kisses must never be mine, I realize that I will never see my reflection in your eyes. But despite that ... my heart ... instead of love you less, loves you even more.
The two is just one single soul: The scent of her hair, the murmur of her silence...
Her smile like a sweet tale... the sweet honey I tasted on your lips.
I thought you and thought you
Young LoveI was so young
when I first heard
the beats of my heart
pulse lightly upon my ribcage
My toothpick bones,
to the powerful palpitations
And I was still young
when I heard again
the throbs of my heart
pound forcefully upon my ribcage
My metal bar bones,
to the butterfly-wing beats
So you better hurry, boy
as my ribs are becoming
thick as steel
and you’ll soon need a metal cutter
to reach my heart
(And I don’t want to become damaged in the process of being loved).
These Bones (I'm in Suicide With You)we're lost without words
in the ache of the brightness.
these bones are old
we are lost--
i'm lost without you.
(but i haven't a clue what you do with me.)
these bones aren't gold,
so what's worthwhile
about them to you?
we are carbon
blood, blood, flowing blood
that clots in cuts
and runs rivers in veins
and stains, how it stains,
carpet and floor and hands
i'd be more
than all the good
i do for you.
i'd be lost without you
but you don't need me
and i'm in suicide with you
for too many reasons
and too many times.
but my only question--
is my love
even if i lie?
...alegria eterna......alegría eterna...
...te pienso, te siento, te espero,
en los remanentes de nuestro universo,
escuchando el harpa de los recuerdos,
de los nuestros, de los pequeños momentos...
...los besos, el cielo, la timidez,
las miradas, las caricias, la estupidez,
los tropiezos, el tiempo, la felicidad,
las lágrimas, las despedidas, la eternidad...
...los años pasan, el caliente no llega,
mi sonrisa se apaga, la luna se aleja,
mi cabello se opaca, mi vida se acorta,
pero mi sentimiento permanece, persevera...
¿Cuándo será el día, la mañana, que te vea,
que tu sonrisa no sea de mi reminiscencia,
que la brillantez del sol refleje tu dulce esencia,
cuando podrá mi corazón ver la alegría eterna?
-Solem Nocte Infinitus-
What Shall He Be?Oh what shall he be - the one to steal my heart?
Many a man is there in this vast world,
But what sort should I desire?
My sisters have oft said to see him in my thoughts.
To know him there and appease my dreams.
I am slow to act, for what reality could compare to a woman's dream?
But, alas, I do believe
That even I find myself dreaming of him now and again.
And so you ask, what sort of man is he?
Well listen close, for here I shall tell of what sort he would be:
He should be tall and graceful, elegant and fair;
With sweet golden locks of his curly hair.
And have blue eyes that sparkle in the light
Of the sun, bright, as does his smile shine.
His tender words and gentle touch
Would so sooth my heart and troubled mind.
His strong arms would hold me fast in the darkest nights
And chase away my fears 'til dawn.
His sweet lips would kiss me tenderly, lovingly just so.
He would have a heart of pure gold, and be loyal and good.
And looking into his eyes, he would see my soul
And I, giving my
Fantasia y RealidadFantasía y Realidad
Junto al sol y bajo las estrellas,
yo te grabo en mi corazón,
pensando en tus labios y en tu voz,
que en todo momento me llenan de amor.
Tú, amor mío, tú, la esencia de mi fuerza,
la meta de mis sueños, tú, niña y mujer eterna,
quimera de penas, de recuerdos y tristezas,
tú, risa de mi alma, esmeralda de rosas cubierta.
Tatuadas están tus caricias en mi piel,
y en mi interior la flama de tu pasión,
unidas, nuestras almas en paz cabalgan,
por océanos de cristales y verdes estrellas.
Fuego, ardor y sangre con furia de amor,
así se encuentran nuestros corazones de fervor,
siempre con ropajes de eternas llamas y calor,
en un universo de fantasía y realidad en colisión.
Te amo con la eterna flama amada mía,
te extraño y te quiero con la luz del sol, Yadira.
Sabes que soy el árbol que crece por ti,
la luna que brilla noche a noche en tu inte
They Told HimThey told him not to love the Moon
Told him that she was a fickle thing
Told him that she would change every month
Until she disappeared from thee
They told him not to curse the Sun
Told him that he was the source of life
Told him that he would stay constant each year
Until the end of days was nigh
They told him to forget the Moon
Told him that she was not his
Told him that she belonged to another
That her very source of light came from him
They told him to thank the Sun
Told him that he kept the Moon safe
Told him that he treated her fairly
And that he would not make her a disgrace
They told him these things
Spoke adamantly about them
They prayed he'd see otherwise
But instead he rejected them
So to this day he stands
Staring at the fickle Moon
Cursing the bright lit Sun
And wondering why he, a Star
Could not love the Moon too
A Measured Love
A Measured Love
She asked how much did he love her?
He answered in a loud cry
To offer at her feet the moon and the stars
To adorn her of all the beautiful flowers in the world
And to woo her each day with love songs that he made
He then asked her how much did she love him?
She fell quiet and thought for a time
Touched his face and put his hand over her beating heart
I love you as the sun sets to let the moon rise
I love you as my heart beats to give me life
And I love you as every breath I do not take, but I would give to you
April 18, 2014
I won't forgetI will always remember
you quietly waiting in the corridors
and opening doors for me to pass through
you drifting in and out of office spaces
and as we walked with matching paces
your smile would quietly etch itself into my memories
of what we were when we were not together.
I will always remember the feelings I wanted to forget
as I walked the limits of darkness every night,
my loneliness like a silhouette
that knew no respite
from the resounding cries
of the kookaburras in the trees
weeping for the heart that wanted to be free
to be with the you
who could not be with me.
I will always remember the voice inside my head
uttering a love that could not be said
across the oceans and the miles
that stretched like a chasm before us
but it was never a distance we did not surmount--
each night a transgression of space and time,
a compression of our imaginations and our minds.
I will never forget these slivers of a past
that used to haunt us with the pain of our non-existence
in a reality we'd
StrippedI long for a life of not a single responsibility, but your precious frail heart.
As we'll stumble upon each other, like onto an atlas of a forgotten district - you'll appreciate the lines on my face for they are an estuary of an ancient river, and I'll cherish the working blisters on your strong hands for they stood out proud of their diligence.
I haven't any other propositions. Affections shouldn't be afflictions, they should be easy and painless, smooth and transparent.
Complexity's never on the table.
Perfection of Monotony is.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More