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turn the music up loud enough.
I want the music loud enough
that I can feel it reverberate through me
At a cellular level.
I find myself lost in the rhythms,
full of emotions
I don't have words for,
wrapped up in the complexity of lyrics.
Every breath rises with a joy
That threatens to split me
As though I've grown too small
To contain it.
Play it again
So all of me can hear.
Play it loud
So I can feel.
"This is...Do you copy? Over."
sometimes love is so bewildering
that I can feel so much
for a soul dwelling
outside the skin I live in
just because the other exists.
Joy in mundane coexistence.
"This...me...DO YOU COPY?"
close enough to conduct electricity
between us, across that miniscule gap
the words just aren't flowing
and I'm failing to reach you
and I'm falling apart
like a broken walkie
or a radio station broadcasting
at the stars in hopes that the right ears
will catch the signal
before the last star blinks out
I blink tears away.
Screaming on the inside
"YOU DAMNED FOOL! I LOVE YOU!
THIS IS ME LOVING YOU!"
because action isn't as you had imagined
"This is me...DO YOU COPY?"
and I love you with force and fierceness
and not being heard
across that chasm
though my love is action
and action and reaction
and I get out of bed each day
to show you with my
echoes through my bones-
not old bones
not young bones
but somewhere between the birthing
and the dying,
middle ground, middle grown?
The creak and grind
as I try to simply
Things don't heal like they did.
If they ever truly did.
S l o w i n g down
grinding and clicking,
those old-ish bones
the creaks and groans
skin marred with stories
I may or may not have told
and stories yet to appear
but not yet marking me.
Grey hair no longer sneaking
bones, damn bones with their
PostcardsYou send me
bits and pieces of your world
in too bright postcard pictures
with no return address
A world of plastic cutout landscapes
garish with artificial perfection
and scribbles of hurried platitudes
I wish you would come home
and stop holding who you are
at arms length
He's Not HeavyWhen the ship sails away
And the skies lose their color,
Who'll stop the rain from soaking our clothes?
Beetles will crawl
We may be small
But, they are even smaller
And in the end
It doesn't matter
Even when we're dead
You'll always be my little brother
Female dogNow I’m an old dog, I’ve seen this old block.
So if you’d like to know, Miss Jane and John Doe,
why the new kid is something,
really off her rock.
I’m an old dog lyin’ down on a hot summer day.
I ain’t nothing but a hound dog
crying all the time, I suppose
But when I was ‘round her,
you’ll see why I’ve hid my nose.
She’s a spunky little puppy,
a cute one at that
Though she’s a fluffy young puppy,
I could swear she’s a cat.
Now a female dog.
That’s what assholes call ladies
who speak out their minds
Now a female dog.
is what ladies
call a female asshole.
So she’s a lying little cat
and at the same time,
she’s a dirty rat.
While she’s a female dog, she’s as courteous as a hog.
I don’t call her a female dog for no reason.
She speaks her mind, alright
but it’s not anything worth believing.
No, what she says isn’t sense or a worth a hark
After all, anything that comes from
You are my light in a dark tunnelMany years ago I stumbled down a dark path,
I was all alone with only anger and sadness at my side.
I felt like I had no way out of the darkness,
And nowhere to go.
I was quickly giving up hope,
And slowly losing my soul.
It was at this time,
When I believe all hope was gone,
That you suddenly appeared in my life.
A gift straight from heaven,
In a world full of hell.
You were the only light,
In a tunnel of darkness.
You held your hand out to me,
Leading me out of the darkness.
You stood by my side,
Even when others shoved me away.
When I wanted to give up,
You refused to let me.
When I was sad,
You shared in my suffering,
When I needed a shoulder to lean on,
You were never far.
It was by your kindness,
That I was able to see the light in this world.
It is thanks to you that
That my hope came back
And my soul was saved.
Thanks to you
I couldn't do it...Mommy...
I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy...
I'm sorry I didn't make you proud...
I tried my best...
Isn't that all you wanted me to do...
I did the best I could for you...
I worked and worked and worked at getting good grades...
There still not good enough for you...
I ignored friends so there would be more time to study...
If they were real friends they wouldn't have Gone away right...
I did everything you said...
I made flash cards...
I quizzed myself...
I did all my home work...
I stayed up past bed time at night to study...
All I wanted was to make you proud...
But I'm sorry...
I guess my hardest still isn't good enough for you...
There isn't a place for me in this world.
Good old Page.She wanders onto my lap
she kisses my face.
She is my most valuable house mate.
Good old Page, her eyes of brown
she never has a frown.
She never has a yell
And she never runs and tells.
Shes my gorgeous girl and i love her
dearly without a doubt.
Without her the days would seem oh so dreary.
She sits there with patience, with love with
care and i love her,
shes always just sitting there.
The Tenants of Our HeartsInnocence personified.
Bubbling and laughing at nothing, anything, everything
Gurgling and swerving at imagined toys
How can anything be more precious?
Ever so dependent on the aid of others
Yet the secret of healing lies within them
For those matters of heart and mind
And trust and personality,
The Nature of humans at its purest
You never stop being one
No matter the distance
or the time
Or your manner
or your thoughts
At the core of your heart
All is as it was when you were a child
As, deep inside,
that is exactly what you are:
A bubbling, laughing, gurgling, swerving
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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