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Who CaresDon't make me tell you what it feels like
To give your smile to every stranger
That comes your way
Give them your laughter, stories, and tears
Maybe even a hug to brighten their day
Don't make me demonstrate
I can't explain
Don't shut me out right when I am
Trying my hardest to reach you
I'm not a tyrant of compassion; of course
You have a choice, but please
Please understand that, first and foremost
I am your friend
I am here
Don't make me cry again (my therapist says
No one can truly "make" me cry)
I am dying a little more inside, though
It sure as hell is not for me, but you
Do you really think I faked our friendship?
Do you really think I botched if up to
Turn your mood razor-sharp at the edges?
It's over (I'm a pessimist)
I'm still here (I'm an optimist)
I don't know what to do
I hurt too much than is normal
My heart is too big, too desperate
I don't know what I'm saying
You don't know what I'm saying
You don't believe I care
words travel at the speed of light
and i find myself not caring, suddenly
(though i know this feeling
won't last forever)
sometimes it feels like i'm closing
in on myself, or something's closing
in on me... either way,
how can i tell the difference?
you never told me how to
survive on my own, and here i am
falling through my many faults and
fear of high places that i created
if this is adulthood, then i want
everything back again, played over again
and this time, i'm controlling it all
don't say i'm obsessive-compulsive
never leave me alone in the dark
i started out on saints, and finished with
tiny little devils, stealing my dreams
(you're supposed to sleep without nightmares
no one told me that)
i liked to spin fairytales out of paper chains,
stringing them around my room and imagining
i saw six more colors in the rainbow
you weren't supposed to laugh
you weren't sure how to hug
it feels funny... saying
do not tell me to respect you
as a human being, as a homosexual
if you cannot respect
my own beliefs
peace begets peace
i am nothing but peaceful towards
everyone i meet
do not call me a hater
if i do not believe in
your choice, it does not mean
i do not love you, as the
precious human you are
do not tell me to respect you
when, in answering your question,
"do you agree?"
you sneer in my face
Lighti have realized... throughout life
that although some prefer
darkness (like me)
it's better to live, then
for although dark conceals
you can't see yourself without
Pitch's SongCold and dark... why is everything
So cold and dark?
Or is it me and
How I see the world?
A creature that no one
Likes to touch
I don't ask for much
Just that I won't feel so
Cold and dark... they look at me
And how I want to hide
There's nothing worse
Than feeling cold inside
A nightmare whispers, and
I know it lies
... But it's mine
Take away your tales of goodness
Prayers of goodness
I don't need them
Shut them up into a sad world
It's a bad world
I would know
Take away the joy and laughter
I will send you perfect dreams
Tied up in screams
There's no such thing as love
And no one loves...
Me, so dark... I love everything that's
Cold and dark
This is my center
How I see the world
A creature that everyone can fear
The Bogey's here...
Cold and dark... my pretty angels
They consume my heart
There's nothing better
Than how I feel now
I'm turned inside-out
I love my cold and dark
Been contemplating, as I walk
That maybe, it’d be best to talk
Inside my head, and not aloud
The birds are such a chilling crowd
To sneer upon me as I stroll
As if I claim each grassy knoll
As if each pond were owned by me
I don’t assert such majesty
In certain circles, certain friends
No one admits the awful trend
Of speaking to themselves alone
Except for me, but then they groan,
“Have you gone daft, or simply dumb?
You’re making fools of everyone
Someone could hear you, silly twit
So kindly put a sock in it!”
Forgive that less poetic line
Somehow, I feel I’m wasting time
But then again, that’s how I feel
When I converse with nothing real
And paint my shadow on the ground
These simple habits yet astound
The people who will not pretend
To see my dear, imagined friends
Been contemplating, as I dream
That maybe, it’s not best to seem
A different soul, compared to most
Perhaps it’s best to be a ghost
Reach out your hand, pathetic
Little fairy, and hopefully
You will see the world as it is
I hope you break your bones
Trying to see it as it is
(Don't call yourself pathetic
Don't use self-harming imagery)
Write another disgusting, emo poem
Riddled with blank scars and nights of
Sitting all by yourself, drinking pain
Pain is what you have chosen
To identify yourself with
(Don't mock yourself again
Don't pretend this is healthy)
Stretch out your tongue, pathetic
Little alien, and maybe, perhaps
You will catch something worth saying
To the world, and all those outside of it
Who have flung their hearts to the stars
(Don't use such poisonous words
Don't make me have to save you)
Anger IIt is so easy...
To lie here
To lie alone
To lie about everything
Because you don't know anything
About yourself, not yet
You love being miserable
You love stewing in that misery
It is so easy
Sickening, really, how easy it is
To do nothing, in and out
Of days, weeks, months
While the world revolves and
Vomits money, cleaving to fulfillment
You are doing nothing
You are being nothing
It is so easy
To lie here, alone
It is harder to live
I threw them out of paper skies
Told them they'd burn (and maybe die)
I painted mantras on their souls
"You are not cold.
You are not cold."
I threw them down, in human dust
To taste the shame, and place the rust
Of heavy hearts inside their own
"You are not home.
You are not home."
The distance soon was harshly felt
I feared my little dears would melt
But hatred is so very strong
(They've hated me for far too long)
"This is a gift," is what I said
And sang to legions of my Dead
Their mouths were drooling with desire
"Set us on fire.
Set us on fire."
They did not see my upper hand
They did not know what I had planned
A precious, poison, poker Face
"I curse your race.
I curse your race."
I threw them down from ruptured skies
All burning still, but soon to die
And gave this message as they fell:
"You're mine in Hell.
You're mine in Hell."
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
1:33 amto the angry young
hungry ocean eyes:
i do not wish to know
what crawled inside
your ribs to
i just wish you would
let it leave.
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
What is that eye?
Staring at me with her
Crude, formless lips
Encased in silver blood
While the trees bore me up
On writhing limbs
And played tag with my soul
They held me up
Bore me up
To that sister, that dark twin
And I fell
Head over heart
Into the iris where
My screams stained it blue
What is that eye?
Staring at me with a
Lost, yearning gaze
Deformed beyond a tear
"Please don't," she cried
And I turned away
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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