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I Killed a Man I can’t believe I had done it. All I could do was sit in the corner of my living room, cradling my knees. Rocking back and forth with a knife still in hand, I was staring at what was before me. 'I killed a man,' I thought to myself. So much blood, I didn’t think it was possible. It leaked through ever groove, every crack, every knot in the old wooden floors. It slowly drifted toward me; it was almost as if I had become so heavy that the entire house shifted with my weight. Closer and closer… I tried to stand up but rather than standing the floor started to swallow me like quicksand until I fell through and landed in the damp crawlspace below.
I couldn’t see anything. I heard the soft patter of rain starting to fall just outside. The soft patter soon turned into a roar and the water began leaking under the door and into the crawlspace. I frantically crawled around in the forming mud until I came across a fami
Silent Mockingbird pt 6The drive back was completely silent, they didn't lecture me or yell at me. They didn't even whisper to each other. My mind wandered as I stared out the window, thoughts bouncing from one side of my brain to the other before taking form as a little creature running on the side of the road. One of them was wondering if it was really in me to kill someone. I didn't think so, at least, I hoped it wasn't. No, it was impossible, I was not able to kill someone.
We approached the house and one of them opened my door, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me inside. It through me in my room and shouted, "Get working!" and watched me. For a moment I was the animal trying to perform for the ring master. I did what it said and started cleaning, the other one brought in several boxes. "Put your belongings in here," it said. As I cleaned my thought creatures reappeared, a lot of them were talking about him, whispering. Some were wondering if he was alright, some were wondering if I had hurt him, and some w
A Silent Mockingbird pt 5 It was there to meet me, Alexavior. Trimme, however, had to go search for its date. I don't know why, it had already decided to steal mine, but it stomped off to search for it. Alexavior had a yellow flower in its tux. I could tell it was a little confused because of how I looked, but it smiled, grabbed my hand, and led me inside.
When we walked inside
The whole ballroom was filled and they all danced in perfect synchronization. It tried to take me to the dancefloor, but I didn't want to dance. I didn't know how, anyways. I walked around looking for the refreshments, hoping they had apple juice. I walked and walked but I couldn't find a table. Then I saw a glimpse of a yellow dress. They were all getting in the way, walking back and forth. The yellow dress was getting closer. And for a moment I saw his face. Then he was dragged away by it, Trimme. It seemed angr
A Silent Mockingbird pt 4I had apples with cinnamon and some normal applesauce on the side. None of the other items on the table looked appealing to me for they were mostly mutilated animals and other demented "foods." They didn't talk very much that night. In fact, nothing talked, it was silence. Or maybe there was some supernatural entity blocking my hearing. No, I knew what that felt like, and it wasn't this.
After dinner I walked silently back to my room, as did everything else. They all had weird smirks on their faces, which made me think they were planning something I didn't know about. Maybe it put them up to something, Trimme. No, I didn't want to think like that, I couldn't think like that. I wasn't one of them. I changed into my pajamas and went into my secret corner, but instead of drawing, I began to write. Letters became words, which became phrases that formed verses. Verses. Of a song? But I didn't listen to music, so how could I have been writing a song? I barely even knew how to write.
Silent Mockingbird pt 3 6:35 a.m. It was still dark out, and it was 25 minutes before door banging time. I stepped off my bed and began walking over to my secret corner, but quickly fell because I forgot about the stuff all over my floor. I crawled the rest of the way over. I turned on my little lamp, picked up a pencil, and continued my work. I had to kneel now because the bottom was all filled up with my drawings. Suddenly I had a great inspiration, and I began drawing immediately. Lines and curves wove in and out of each other as I continued up the wall, shapes and figures formed. Then it happened, once again, my thoughts were interrupted by the vicious sound of poundings on my door. I felt sorry for how much abuse the door went through on a daily basis.
I barely had time to open the door before they were yelling at me to get ready. They said we were going shopping for a dress to wear to the ball. I quickly changed into a T-shirt and some jeans. Today would be an i
A Silent Mockingbird pt. 2I opened the door to my room and everything was a mess. My bed was turned over, my clothes covered the floor, and when I closed the door behind me I saw a note attached to it:
Hey, I better not see you at that goddamn ball, I got an invite too. It may not
be from a hot guy, but I plan on ditching him for Alexavior, got it? So
you can't be there with him. You better just stay in your room when the day
comes, or else there will be problems far worse than your room being destroyed
I crumpled the note and dropped it on the floor. Then I fixed my bed, and went into my secret corner. When I ducked under the sheet I noticed that my drawing was left untouched and breathed a sig
Someone asked me what is love
is it good, is it bad
is it awesome, is it terrible
I honestly didnt know how to answer them.
I finally desided love is the most complicated of all emotions
Love is kind
love is harsh
love is wonderful
love is terrible
love is a cure
love is a sickness
love is LOVE
love is hate
love is meaningful
love is pointless
love shows the best in people
love shows the worse in people
love makes us speak truth
love makes us lie
love understands everything
love confuses everyone
love builds your life
love tears your heart down
love makes you smile
love makes you cry
love makes us cuddle
love makes us hit
love makes the world go round
love makes the world go crashing down
love makes things simple
love makes things impossible
love is always worth it
love is never worth it
love makes us smarter
love makes us stupid
love is enlightening!
love is BLIND
make love not war
make war out of love
love is peaceful
love creates fights
love is sooth
SuicideSuicide... they call it sin
They say it is a death in which no-one wins...
They encourage you not to do it, they say it is wrong...
But who is there to encourage you when you can't be strong.
You feel like you have no-one, not even a friend.
No shoulder to cry on, just one last letter to send.
tragedies - collab.you deserve all the cobweb dreams,
fairytale hopes, and explosive love
in the world, but i know that i
will never be the one
to give them to you.
you need notes that end with
'ps - you're brighter than
twenty-seven silver stars'.
i can't bring myself
to write them, though.
it's not like you'd read them,
i cut out paper hearts and
dreams and gave them to you, but
you only ripped them up and said
'these aren't good enough.'
when i painted you a picture
of golden skies and sunshine smiles,
you handed it back and told me
'next time, paint realistically.'
so i wrote you a story
filled of starless nights and
hopeless dreams. you said 'no,
i don't need this. you're
tragedy enough for me.'
by the time i was humming you
melancholy lullabies through the receiver,
you had already surrendered
to the sweet grasps of sleep.
'i'd rather nightmares than you,'
you said, hanging up the phone.
i kept singing anyway, hoping
that you would stop running
long enough for me to catch up.
but i forgot -
the speed addictthe speed addict knows if he stops moving,
he will die. so when inertia takes hold
his heart falters and his head slams against
a future, lit by the dashboard. he hears
his veins stuttering like gears grinding out
a staccato refrain, while the wheel spins and
goes numb. as his breath twists away from his grip,
rasps a hol
heart song.this is the song
to your heart.
why are you locked inside
a bathroom stall? no one
to hold you, tell you sweet
lies and say you are
beautiful, say you are
perfect? it's not the end of
the world, not yet. if it was,
wouldn't there be
your heart is not yet
dead; please do not
say it is. if it was dead,
it wouldn't hurt this
your heart is only sleeping.
when the only melody in your head
is a break up song, and the only thing
your heart seems capable of doing
is twisting itself into knots, and the only
thing you want to do is hide and escape
we are talking about finding
eternity in the things people
throw away. we are talking about
listening to the moments of silence
in between heart beats. we are talking
about distances shortening and
people realizing they can
we are talking about
one of the greatest tragedies
in life is that
DementiaThe old man sits with stooped back.
The room is cold, just like his hands.
Thoughts have wandered like small children.
He wonders if he will see home again.
Thoughts have wandered home again,
with stooped backs and cold hands.
The room sits with the old man.
Like small children, he wonders if he will see cold.
Back stooped with thoughts, he wanders.
Like a child the small room sits, wondering.
Home again is cold.
The old man will see with his hands.
Thoughts have wandered with stooped backs.
The cold hands sit with the old man.
He wonders if he will see like small children.
The room is home again.
This PainTears roll down my face,
As I cut myself,
To release the pain.
It hurts so much,
But feels so good.
The pain is draining from me,
In drops of blood.
As I watch my pain leave from me,
"How can this be,
That I have so much pain
When I'm only merely 16?".
Then I remember the past that I've had,
Memories of yelling,
all the awful scars.
I've cried too much,
I've hated so many,
That I don't think people will ever get me.
I come back from my world of thoughts
And realize that I've bled too much,
It's all over the counter,
It's becoming messy,
But I don't care.
I just want this pain out of me.
I'm starting to think that I can't go on,
That maybe I should cut deeper
Till there is no more pain or blood,
But then I remember,
That I may have a future.
I'll just have to wait out this pain
And let the blood dry up.
you can't feel through fabrictonight the rain becomes the earth
falling from hidden spaces in the sky and swollen clouds
i hear it make mud of dirt, and lovers of friends
and ask, quiet, where are you going but down?
im not all there in the head
youre not all there in the head, my mother says
im not all there in the head i repeat
sometimes im there in my toes and fingers and heart as well
and now - in this downpour moment- i lie on the street
so warm that i think well thats where loves gotten to
but where is your shirt n? oh someplace else
and is that a light flickering in the house across the road? hide!
i rush in soaken with rain i watched fall (like stars)
am i poetic enough yet, yet?
leaving rain-prints on the carpet but mother wont mind
mind you she never minds anything if its mine
but then it stops a quick shut-eye stop
(i wonder) is it dew now that it sits like jewels upon the grass?
the wind is lovely in my ear, voice like rushing water
Depressing PoemsSorry --
What if she died?
And at the funeral her parents told you,
"You could have saved her from herself."
How would that make you feel?
And that night you went home
Sat in your room alone
And killed yourself
Just to be with her again and tell her
Why do people try to help me?
Do they care?
I guess they do
But all I do is hurt them
She keeps trying to help me
But all I do is push her away
She's my best friend
Why can't I just let her help?
What if I died right now?
How would you fell?
Sad, depressed, torn apart?
Or would you feel nothing,
But an empty place that can never be filled again?
you look at meYou look at me,
And you see life,
On the point of a knife
If i lean any way,
I will fall,
To my death,
The ravens call.
The dark abyss,
Which lies below,
It is now stronger,
And continues to grow.
The wind starts to howl,
But i hold my ground,
And hang onto this life,
By which I am bound.
The weight pushes down,
The knife's through my feet,
I have to jump now,
And accept my defeat....
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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