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#7I can see your smiling face
Represented on a glowing screen
And I press delete,
As if it would erase the ghost of you.
Enough For YouI love the way your eyes seem way too big for your head, and that look you give when lingering on the cusp of an opinionated rant. Don't get me wrong, you're far from perfect, but you have this ability to pull my lips into a smile. And I could get lost in yours.
And we argue over stupid things like
What happens after we die
As if that somehow matters.
Then you just drop my sentences like used matchsticks into your fire of undeniable faith, and reach for the Slivovitz.
And sometimes I feel more than hard to love. Sometimes your grand adventures throw a perspective that I am not enough. And then you ask why I'm still always sad.
And when I'm reminded of him, always him, and my eyes are veiled and you lose count of the droplets clinging to my eyelashes, your voice is torturously tender; "I couldn't hurt you like he did".
It hurts to fall in love with all these little pieces of you. It hurts to feel my scars slowly fading into memories like ships in the night.
Because I know I'm not enough
And Then YouTonight I don't want to be alone. The dark, an emptiness full of unknowns, threatens my dim and wavering existence. Because I'm so small in everything and still not small enough to go unnoticed. And my head is full of so many regrets that roll like crashing waves.
Deep in my heart of hearts and soul of souls I see blue eyes- bright, painful memory and sharp lies and malcontent. Brown eyes- the things I did to start again and inadequacy and loss. Staring and soulless from the sockets of who I used to know. And my memories churn like turbulent seas, and roll like crashing waves.
All I can picture is this feeling of not being enough. I need to move on but maybe it's the past that's not letting go of me. Maybe I've tried to fight it. Maybe it's all too much.
I'm so meaningless and small and yet they won't let me slip away. I'm so lonely and they won't let me be alone.
And then there was you.
Bucolic SuffocationI'm getting kind of tired of this bucolic town, where nothing ever changes and everything is full of stale memories.
And I'm getting really sick of those arrogant people who breeze in and out, and make me feel inadequate with the life I'm living. In an indirect way, I suppose you were one of them.
At the moment, I'd do anything to be happy, even if it means leaving everything behind,just to have an excuse to never say your name again.
The night, The lighthouseThe night is so long. The night is so long and I hardly sleep without him here. It's nights like these that I had him close to where my fragile heart was beating.
The night is so long and lonely, and my life sometimes feels like an anomaly or an oblivion. Oh eternal universe, so endless and beautiful, oh time, my old friend. Please let me slip away.
On nights like this one I could touch the beauty of forever, that fleeting and perfect thing. On nights like this I was in love, for how could I not have loved him and his easy, wan smile?
The night is so long. I have spent these days in the dark. A year without the sun. A year without my love. Those with words more beautiful than my own have said it, that love is so short and oblivion so long.
The night is eternal for me. There will be no sun while he is not with me. Without him,
Without him I just try to stop the days from hurting.
I try to keep the pain away from me.
The night is so long and I am afraid of the dar
StrengthStrength is knowing that no one can hit me as hard as I've hit myself. I've pulled myself apart and become my own worst enemy. I've hurt myself more than anyone else ever could. And I'm starting to realize that I can't make myself good enough for you. I can't be everything you need or anything you want. So the days pass me by like razor blades and bruising blows. There is no comfort for me. And there's nothing to make the days stop hurting. All I get is that one moment held against you. One moment when all the voices in my head go silent. One moment when I'm not constantly refreshing the feelings of my own inadequacy. That's all there is for me.
Together in what might have beenYou're my
and I am your
Together in curses
without you it seems
to float away
and I can't find
my way back home
Last lamentYour face burns behind my eyes.
I feel myself begin to cry,
because you were everything to me.
and you and I just couldn't be.
An iron lump in my throat,
feel like I'm about to choke.
Hands go cold, knees give way.
Haven't seen you since that day.
I can still smell you in the air.
Feel my fingers running through your hair.
I can hear you say you love me so.
I can taste the regrets of letting go.
There wasn't room in your life for me,
and all the things we could be.
Bitter symphonies of cold lament,
the words I wish you never meant.
Memories bitter on my tongue,
all our moments, every one.
The taste of you in my mouth,
I'm fading, falling, going out.
And silent secrets are all I see,
with the priceless things we won't be.
Your face burns behind my eyes.
Still can't believe it was all lies.
I'm sorry, my darling, for making you bleed.I want to tell you
all my worries inside.
cold regrets and
my dearest one,
I want it to be yours again.
And I don't think I can
looking for you in empty places
getting my hopes up
that you'll see me
and want me
Loving you hurt me.
when you couldn't be there.
But leaving you hurt more.
It was pain,
pure and unadulterated.
And I know my apologies
floating away on
But I'm still yours
I promised you I would be.
I'm yours even when
you aren't mine.
And I always will be.
I know I stuffed up.
I made a mistake.
I know I don't deserve you.
But darling I can't forget about you;
You once said I was the only one for you.
And I want you to believe that again.
Suicide is no joke.Suicide is no joke. There is no coming back from it. Once you have done it, you are gone. Your pain may be over, but the pain to your family and loved ones will never be over. They will be left with countless questions that will forever be unanswered. If you're in pain, you need to let somebody know. There is no use suffering in silence. If you are suffering through depression, the worst thing you can try to do is beat it on your own. Just remember that there are people out there who love you and care for you. Even if you only have one person in your life who cares, that is still one person that would be devastated if you were no longer here.
Suicide is a very final way to deal with life's issues. It is a dark and permanent solution to potentially short term problems. All I ask is for you to stop and think. There is always a solution to your problems. There is always someone out there who can help you. Never think that you're alone because you are not. Some people may understand a lot
It's Too Late When We DieIf you want to die then fine, go die
But before you go, think
Think about every dream you've dreamed
Think about every star you've wished upon
Think about every desire that has ever coursed through your veins
Everyone of those things could become true
Everyone of those things could become a reality
If you go pack you bags now
You will be packing nothing but pain
You will leave this place with nothing but your suffering
So fight, fight everyday
Pour fire into your heart
Harness the hurt
Control the memories
And leave this world old and grey
And leave this world carrying happiness
Don't ever give up because,
It's too late when we die..
Someone SpecialHe sat alone at the train station. Every day, he remained... At the same time, in the same seat, with the same book. His hands never tried to turn to the next page, not even once...
I asked what he was reading. There was no answer. Only the same cold, stoic gaze... Creeping through my retinas. Locked together. No hellos, no goodbyes. Just dark eyes, regarding me with mirthful disdain.
I wanted dearly to break him from his painful reverie... But I eventually realized, no one could do that for him. He had to do it himself... And the timing wasn't right. I could wait for him forever, it wouldn't make the slightest difference...
All of the trains were late... That day, and every day.
I whispered... "I tried."
He whispered back... "It doesn't matter..."
Those three words; each of them a dagger, forever slicing. And I walked away, immortal wounds dripping crimson from my chest...
TendernessHer name was Tenderness. Blue used to call her this way because she was very cute, very lovely, and when Blue saw her the first time, the first emotion he felt was Tenderness. Tenderness was a young paintress, very very talented. Her art was different: she didn't paint with a brush, she painted with her heart! Her colours were her emotions, and her canvas was her soul. Every painting made by her was a masterpiece, a piece of herself consacreted in an eternal work of art. Her paintings were the mirror of herself: soft, delicate...and beautiful!
Tenderness is a very talented paintress! Tenderness paints with heart and soul! Tenderness probably is looking for perfection in this imperfect world! Tenderness is Artist and Muse at the same time!
Discovery of Titanic On this day in Nineteen-Hundred and Eighty-Five, the great black seas of the North Atlantic were parted by crafts never before seen in this realm. They plunged beneath the surface of the waves, beneath the rolling tide, and as they descended, the sea became dimmer, and dimmer....and dimmer still until all grew black and infinite. The lights from the craft shone upon the strangest of fishes, and many waves of small plankton-creatures glazed past the windows, and on to their way in this strange and ethereal world.
Down, down, down....farther still. Then, with a soft 'plunk', the craft lands upon the sea floor. The white Atlantic sand drifts up in waves, floating in the water like smoke. Drifting around and away. The lights shine on this world, but they do not show much. The ocean is too vast, to immense for them to illumine much. The fishes dart back and forth, curious as to who this intruder really is. They have never seen anything like it in all th
DreamHer name was Dream! Well, to be honest that wasn't her real name: Blue used to call her this way because she was like a Dream. Blue never met such an amzing, intelligent, talented and deep person! Too good to be true...a Dream. But Dream was real!! Dream was one of the greatest poetess of our times. She was a sort of source of inspiration! She was sweet, she was polite...she was a beautiful human being. I'm sure her smile was a sort of shining sun, warm and beautiful! Her face was the representation of sweetness, and her soul was, how to say, the reflection of humanity! Dream was suffering, but despite the suffering, she always comforted the others! Dream was an extraordinary girl! Dream is a living dream!
Dream is a great artist! Dream is an extraordinary girl! Dream is a living beautiful dream! Dream is all the good in this world!!!
In This SpaceMy favorite space in the entire world is the space between my window and my bed, only separated by the brown Chester Drawer that was painted canvas white and now chips away to show tidbits of the chestnut brown. This is my favorite space. A cage between the pages of my sketchbook; torn out. Here, it’s just far enough from you. I can see the smile on your face. And the emptiness in your eyes. I can see how they’ll never match one another again. And it makes me wonder if you can hear me breathing too heavy in order to make myself faint.
This space in between my bed and my window is as big as the space in between your eyes. And I wonder if you can see right through me. Or do you just not pay attention to the sundry voices in my head. In this space, I sat down and watched the rain break the glass. This space is where I watched the ants trail in through the hole in the window’s net. I fed them bread crumbs from my sandwich. Until they infested the spot and expected a yard
FelicityHer name was Felicity! They used to call her this way because she seemed to be always happy. Felicity was a nice girl, very funny and always ready to make you laugh. But Felicity hasn't been always happy. In the past she suffered, we don't know why, we don't know how, but she suffered. Fortunately Felicity doesn't suffer anymore. She's better than she thinks! Felicity loves to watch tv series, probably because she likes to get lost in a world of fantasy, where all the sorrows of the life don't exist. Felicity is a good friend. I think that Felicity is a dreamer too!
Felicity is a young girl who suffered. Felicity is happy now! Felicity loves tv series! Felicity is the need to escape from this world, but also the life that goes on!
grief and forgivenessYou never know how precious something is until it slips through your fingers. You can never understand the pain of loss, until it happens to you.
The words "I know how you feel" coming from a friend, as well intentioned as they are, are meaningless unless they too know that pain.
Sometimes at a time when grieving dominates the heart, the best thing to say is a simple 'I'm sorry".
Don't tell me I'll get over it, because I won't. In time it may become easier to deal with, might hurt less, it will never go away. I will still feel the absence in my life. A hole in my heart that nothing can fill.
Don't say It's been awhile, time to move on. Grief is a process, some people go through it differently, and some take longer to come through it.
If you want to help me, all I need is for you to be there.
I may not always need you to talk, sometimes all I need is someone to listen, to lend a shoulder to cry on.someone who doesn't mind how long I grieve, a friend.
I am not asking for you to sha
RunningI've never wanted to run away so much. Just keep running, until I can taste blood in my mouth and breathing hurts and you are so very far away. You stare blankly, and make my heart howl like a wild animal as it attacks my chest and fights against the bonds holding it in. Your gaze is steady, you know how much pain it's causing me. Your lips in a half smile as you bask in my pain. My vision blurs as A fresh batch of tears collects in my eyes, glazing them with my sadness. And you're still smiling, so proud of yourself. So gleeful at the fact that you inflicted this.
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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