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What does it mean.to be a hero,
what does it mean?
To lose yourself,
to save another being?
To help millions,
but leave no real thought?
to sell yourself,
but leave nothing bought?
where are we all going,
what does it mean,
what are they showing,
is this on the big screen?
To love someone,
and to teach them the same?
to go through life,
not ending up "lame" ?
To catch all the promises someone threw away,
to let someone live another day?
To hear the words,
and know what they say?
what color is the sky,
when you open your eyes?
i know you can't tell me.
To teach one the value of life,
to end someone's long-lived strife?
taking away the edge of the knife,
or loving someone even though you've seen the bite?
What makes a hero,
what determines a life,
do we have the choice,
to change our own lives?
To save another,
from certain peril,
to watch the clock,
Momma, please.Please do not tell me I'm pretty,
I know that I'm not,
don't expect something witty,
that's something you're not,
going to hear,
I'm not really here,
I'm an empty shell,
I'm living in hell,
I don't know what to tell you,
How could you even begin to tell me you're blue,
How disappointed you are,
I'm telling you, momma, I tried to be your shining star,
but I don't think I can even shoot that far.
I don't undertand why you don't just pack up the car,
and as for me, you wouldn't have to retrieve.
I'll go somewhere that someone believes.
So, Momma please,
don't tell me these,
Momma don't tell me I wasn't meant for the flies,
after all of these years,
I've shed so many tears,
You were the worst of my fears.
Please do not tell me how bad I am,
because now I know I'm not.
I've been so tenderly taught,
to believe you not,
though you try to take them away,
my friends, they do not sway,
They've warned me before,
Flying.Blue bird, blue bird,
flying in the sky,
take me off to no-where-land,
show me how to fly.
Take me off to somewhere,
where I will be okay,
forgive me all my wrongdoings,
show me the way.
Blue bird, Blue bird,
flying up so high,
take me off to no-where-land,
teach me how to fly.
Teach me all your secrets,
as if i was one of you,
because if you couldn't see,
there isn't room for two.
Fly me high, above the sea,
take me where,
only birds can be.
is just fantasy,
but I'd love to be a bird.
Breathing gets harder when the humidity goes up.I wish I could show you how I feel. I wish emotions were easy. I wish I could just peel back my skin and show you my good intentions.
Good intentions never seem to really pay the dues, I really don't understand anythingabout the news. I don't know if I can do this withou tyou.
Without you is nothing I would ever imagine, and imagining is my forte.
The classroom is always so loud, even when my head is in the clouds. It makes these days seem so long.
These days are often too long and the nights not nearly long enough. I wish these three years would just fly by, so we could be together.
I wish being together wasn't such a hassle, I want to be with you. I hope you don't go on and forget about me.
If you forgot about me, I don't know what I'd do, I wasn't lying when I said my heart beats for you, these days.
These days seem too long and the nights not long enough. I wish I could sleep more but it's hard without hearing your voice.
Your voice is the only sound I long
Breathing underwater.I feel like it's inevitable now,
I'm drowning, but I'm smiling, how?
I wish you could teach me to breathe underwater,
I don't want to be a martyr,
though I feel as if I already am,
I don't know if I should even give a damn.
I see you all around the shore,
calling out my name, and more,
beckoning me to come aboard,
I don't think I can reach,
I feel the current, like a leech,
stealing the happiness, stealing my life,
don't think this is just a one time strife,
The current has been calling for such a long time,
Would it really be such a crime,
to slip below,
still calling my name, oh god, I know,
my fatigue is starting to show.
Somebody pulls me up,
I feel their lips graze mine,
feel their air fill up lungs, -mine,
but I'm still not sure if this is such a good sign,
Sputtering and stuttering, I try to stand,
I feel the land,
beneath my feet,
but I don't think I can bring myself to defeat,
the darkness that's still calling m
Saving the girl.Feeling lost,
and a little dazed,
I don't seem to care,
at least, about me.
I frantically try,
to realize, what could be.
I open my eyes,
see it's really inside of me.
"I can't see anything!",
I scream and I shout.
I blink away tears,
that I cannot see.
It doesn't mean a thing,
how ever much i shout,
As the radar shakes,
the earth quakes.
I'm feeling dazed,
I know it's just me,
at the end of the day.
Know it's just me,
who needs to be saved.
In the end,
I'll be okay,
as long as you really,
promise to stay.
I feel your touch,
but cannot see.
I feel your love,
and I want to be,
all you've ever wanted.
I feel your breath against my neck,
feel you love me,
oh what the heck.
I start to see,
you really are,
Devious Journal EntryToday is just so great, I am so happy.
I am listening to AiC and I finished my science and i just am so great feeling
I love today and people and I just want to swim and be lovey to everyone
Anger?If you're there,
please speak up,
if you're there,
come pick me up?
I wonder where,
the hell you've been.
I wonder if,
I can even call you a friend.
I wonder if,
you'll just leave again.
I wondered for months,
starting to weep.
I walked alone,
for a real long time,
and now you think,
everything will be fine.
poetry is thinking with your skinwith strands of sunlight for hair
anchors drawn in permanent ink
this catharsis is your skin talking
the hairs on your arms rising.
a sudden glimpse into the
skin sun kissed and wind beaten
free spirit and eyes of the heathen
you think you talk
but you tik like a clock
my words might be beautiful
but they have no soul
I feel infinite
late night taxi cab She got in more than ten minutes ago, makeup smudged by tears or sweat. For pretty girls, it’s always tears. She looks out the window, silent, a cigarette burning in her right hand. It started raining a short while ago and the taxi’s motor has been shut down way before that. It’s eerily quiet and she remarks on it, her voice hoarse and oddly soft for the wild child she looks like. The cab driver has given up on telling her to hurry up and choose a destination or leave because she reminds him too much of someone.
They’ve been sitting in this deafening silence forever.
She looks back inside, focuses her gaze on the radio to see if it’s off or just turned down. The silence seems to have a weight and it presses down on her. Last night, she sold love in sealed paper packets tucked in shirtsleeves and underwear, caught in the underwire of her bra, pressed to the hummingbir
Idiosyncratic IntentionsBorn to homogenized land, to be enslaved by social trend,
to become the prostitute of modernization, vile evisceration.
Penanced to Poinciana and her children – palsied by zealous
elections. Entitled by men of relax n' rest and change o' best.
Killing the child
with our eye-spy
generalized assumptions, again.
We are to un-educate ourselves till bide comes a demure lion
who speaks as dames and relates to the hetero-masculine
decline of testosterone. The murderer of wifely ligaments
and unborn innocent innocence. Yet, as we fall to decease,
in regression, we blame our own idiosyncratic intentions.
As a whole of no-hearts, we display regret in the form of
harlot gatherings, fertile famines - vasectomy celebrations.
As Jeremiah watches the facade, Alexia undress herself
in the lenses of connected cameras set in resolution; 1984.
Vilified testified menacing sibling -
why do you watch
your idiosyncratic intentions
Self-destructive lieSmile as you plop into the car,
Mother asks you,
"How was your day?"
Stumble into the restroom,
You smile and hug yourself in the mirror.
It's all your fault.
Your joyous expression suppresses the urge to vomit.
Now you're lying to yourself.
Months fly by.
They all ask,
"Are you okay?"
You ask yourself,
"Why do you care so?"
Because I said no.
"Because I still love him."
No, it's because you stopped loving yourself.
Screaming in your mind.
Fire in your soul.
You convince yourself you're worthless,
Glaring at the happy mask everyone sees.
If only they saw the true reflection.
Now everyone you open up to,
They all ask,
"Well did you want to?"
"It's a complicated answer."
Now you ask yourself,
"Did he rape you?"
But I know the truth,
I am a part of you,
spell caster musiciansDon’t go with him.
If he invites you over, don’t do it.
Because he’ll reel you in with perfect words, and innocent eyes full of secrets you’d love to explore and you’ll find yourself in a bed that smells of him, sharing a kiss that tastes like a question and being consumed by his touch and his words and his unfailing ability to love you for a few moments.
You’ll feel a desire you didn’t know existed and fear the touches you were craving before you got to be so close. You’ll wonder if the songs were meant for you, or a repeat of anything he’s ever tried on other girls.
He’ll stop speaking and existing when life forces you to coexist in the same bubble of air space, but he’ll have long since imprinted himself inside your bones like a Trojan virus.
You’ll spend countless hours thinking it over, exasperated, exhilarated, almost in love with the simple idea, with the wonderful illusion, but you will tick question m
AutismDon't treat me like a patient
All I want to do is run around
Don't talk to me like I am deaf
I can hear it loudly, every sound
Please don't judge me
If you see me cover my ears
It's the way I block out everything out
All the threats and all my fears
I might not communicate like the rest of you
Or look you in the eye
You might tut and moan and bitch
But never ask me why
The truth is that I am different
I just want you to see
That I'm not rude, impolite or weird
Under it all, I am just me
SkinI feel you
As you slide under the covers behind me
Your skin so cool and supple
The soft springy hairs on your chest
Stroke the middle of my back
Finding the tattoo of the unicorn
You chose for me that time by the sea
When we first met
I smell you
As you fold your arms around me nice and tight
Bringing with you scents of
Evening air and salty, musky male
Warming me and cooling me
Building my desire with pure alchemy
Turning me to liquid gold and heat
Just like before
I hear you
As you sigh with me in mutual pleasure
Lifting my hair, touching
Your lips to my moist nape, so needy
Aching for your soft, sweet kiss
Take me to that dark, dark place, my lover
Bite me, suck me, bleed me dry, you fiend
One last time
sans parolesce n'est pas toujours si facile
j'aimerais qu'on recommence notre première fois
je voudrais te revoir, encore
te savoir, encore
réapprendre ton toi tout entier
tu devras me pardonner mes caresses
presque trop fragiles, pleines de doutes
tu devrais m’apprendre la langue des anges
chanter les paroles des déchus
je t’en prie,
ensorcelle mon cœur pour la première fois
all over again
On Bulimia.The urge to purge has been strong and violent.
I don't purge anymore. I have on very rare occasion during fits of insane stress, but I avoid it at all costs. It's one behavior that I have tried to beat out of myself. I think about my delicate teeth and weak stomach, which bear witness to the self-destructive years of childhood robo-barfing. I think about the act of intentionally putting my face where other people crap, and how inherently disgusting that is.
I know it's horrid.
The thought, however, remains. What goes in can come back out. What makes you fat can be eradicated. What frightens you can be removed.
It's tempting at times.
Logically, it's much easier not to eat. Anorexics, to me, are much more logical creatures. They thrive on rational, logical, cold facts. They count calories. They know how much fat is in an ounce of cottage cheese. They perform mathematic calculations at the speed of light. Bulimics are people of passion and emotion. Food comforts. It's like a drug. It cau
A different view.bending backward,
out of place.
fell out of space.
but never winning.
lie to yourself,
it's all the same.
lie to yourself,
play the game.
a big black hole,
feeling like a mole.
I can't see,
can only be.
Smells of nothing,
not even loathing.
Happy with the darkness,
now finds the light.
begins another long lived plight.
Soon again, I find it okay,
and go along with my day.
The world is twisting,
greens turned purple,
I feel extroverted,
and full of thinks.
Full of happiness,
bursting to the brink.
I feel myself laugh,
at something you can't perceive,
cannot look at,
Keep in Touch!
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