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Darling, I Need A VacationDarling I need a vacation again, where I can put my toes in the sand while you’ll run your fingers over my foot. I need one of our classic beach trips where my skin gets tanner, and you get red because you didn’t heed my warning that yes you do need to reapply sunscreen under this beautiful sun. I need to layout, exposing my scars in my bikini, turning you on yet being only a tease. And we’ll laugh at the other couples who have grown to finicky and don’t know how to touch each other anymore, as you’ll wrap me in your arms on our beach blanket promising otherwise, which is probably the same things they all once promised each other. And I’ll complain when you kick too much sand, and the umbrella will try to fly away but you’ll tie it down masterly as usual. We’ll sip our cokes relishing in the sweetness that takes the salt off our lips when we take breaks to lay our bodies out. Take me back to last summer, with palm trees and coconuts. Wher
The Morning After Pill“I’m pregnant,” I said. I wish I said. I wish I could say. But not really as I lay naked next to you. We’re about five seconds away from jumping in the car to buy Plan-B. Because I’m too young, and I’ve got plans. To be more than this. More than just another knocked up 21 year old letting her goals slip through her hands. I mean, sure, it’s right for some. But not me. Not the girl who’s unsettled, sharp as hell, but can’t make up her mind about the future. Except when it comes to you. But even then, some days, you’re only just okay.
But she’s so beautiful dancing in the sunshine in my mind. Her nose flat and small like yours, her skin lost somewhere between your washed out look and my sun kissed birth tan. And she has your wavy hair, with my brown shades, and my eyes. She’s the center of our worlds, twirling in between the crevices of reality and my uterus emptying out itself.
I’m shakey at Walmart, with my C
To Kill Me By My Own HandsI am dusting off my toes that used to patter.
Through the streets, barefoot, toes curled,
My laugh is vomiting your face in its puddle.
You lurk with that gun to my head
I can almost feel the bullet crushing me;
A false threat.
I dare you to lick me,
My poison will only make you
Want to kill yourself too.
I am manic running sloshed
Curdled by the shadows leering
As my guides give up and the light goes out.
Curtain down, bullets out.
Accept UsI ache for your check box green light,
his eyes yearning, and my head spinning.
Rushing with the sound of duress
tit-tit-tap, and like a pencil I bounce
to the floor, hoping you did not enjoy
my fall for you.
Perhaps, One DaySomedays
I want to go to the beach
and live a traitor's life
with the water to my breasts,
and the world chasing winds
careless in my demise.
Love Through the AgesXV.
I met you and my heart yearned to be your savior. It was perhaps the attention, the feeling of being needed where I felt useless outside of you, you who spoke of suicide yet somehow I broke my own rules for. You who I'd stay up until midnight chatting with, and running home to the computer for. You made me feel as if the loneliness that had consumed me was nothing compared to yours, and that if I could perhaps fill in the holes of your hole, I could steal you away from depression and find my own long-awaited sunshine. But you with your dark depression, and poor coping skills taught me very little other than how that picking up one knife could lead to a long addiction, much longer than our relationship lasted. And although you talked me out my pretentiousness with sex, abstinence being key, and I soon was ready to let you be the key to my lock, I declined for someone better.
You swooned my heart through awkward family meetings, constantly chaperoned. But yet, we somehow always
I locked my heart in a mahogany box and threw away the key.
There was no one to care for - there was nothing left for me.
My heart had ceased beating long ago
after years of misery and pain.
Through countless highs and lecherous lows
I became immune to pounding rain.
I walked without even my shadow as a friend.
Numb to all emotions that surfaced to my skin.
Knowing I would be alone to the bitter end
suffering the consequences of sin.
I was shunned and shamed -
bruised and maimed.
No one cared - no one knew.
No one bothered to change my view.
My life was a silent movie
of a language no one spoke.
With plenty of plot holes for all to see
and an ending of mirrors and smoke.
It was getting hard to catch my breath.
Surely death would be oh so sweet.
Addicted to the thought like Crystal Meth,
it skipped through my head like an erratic beat.
She stumbled upon a key that washed up on the shore.
Wondering what it could unlock.
Determined to solve the riddle and explor
if we were to never speak again.In silence absolute
I almost forgot you,
I almost remembered to forget
you, lonely afternoon
of naked breath,
the softness of sunset
as it rakes along my skin.
The nonchalance of the sky
almost unbearably falters
an outbreak of tears
weigh down my hair
memory of your touch,
memory of your heart,
eyes blinking through the rain
glimpses of turquoise-
blue souls dancing, but
not quite entwined.
claws into my brows,
furrows the flesh
rivulets of thought
that tear through my nervous system
cellular tinnitus, reverberations
in my spinal column,
raising mountains from
my body, darklight clouds
ghosting in the peripheries
of my vision
memory of your touch,
memory of your heart,
a lyrical tattoo
of ripened countryside
a vibrant concerto
washed between us
tidal colour drowning,
from your sweet humour
to my aching sternum
the cliffs fall away
and autumn breaks in upon us,
auburn sorrows of light
You AreI am the moon,
And you are the sun,
I pale in comparison to you.
I am a student,
And you are a professor.
I cant keep up with you.
I am a snowflake,
And you are a blizzard,
I will never be like you.
I am a tree,
And you are a fire,
You can destroy me easily.
I am a star,
And you are the universe.
You are simply my everything.
I shrug into Harry's shirt
underneath my autumn scarf--
cologne on the cuffs bringing
color as I close my eyes,
the brown of his hair,
laughter, pine green.
Fingers on marbled buttons
smooth as the cream
he puts in his chai.
I think of him like rain on a Sunday,
a slow breath uttered in calm,
eyes shut to listen,
he is peace,
stability in grayer moments.
He is the space in my empty bed
I ache for him the way
I crave prayer and
the feel of a rosary.
I Write to a Lover Who Doesn't ExistYou must've noticed how I was left bleeding
Because all you could do was stare
At me with those gemstones you call eyes.
We danced around bookshelves in the mystery section
Pretending not to notice each other
And ignoring the fact that our eyes kept meeting.
I wonder now that if we'd danced in the romance section
Would we have still ignored that part of ourselves?
And after all, aren't mysteries ment to be solved?
You must wash your hair with sunflower petals and pomegranate seeds
Because your aroma is that of a goddess
And I was attracted to you as quickly
As if you had called my name.
Would you call my name?
And would you say yours as well
Because although I have a feeling you go by Aphrodite,
We have not yet acquainted ourselves.
Locks of LoveI haven't cut my hair
Since just before
I walked across the stage
Sixteen months ago.
I grew it out
Because, last summer, you loved
To run your fingers
Through its coppery threads.
That always made me feel
When you left for school again in August,
I couldn't bring myself
To get a haircut.
What if you came back,
And this time, my heart was ready for you?
Mid-semester, you told me that,
While you and your friends
Built your school's bonfire,
It was customary
That no one cut his hair
Or even shaved
Until the structure was finished.
I don't think I told you
That I let mine continue to grow
In your honor, except
I didn't cut it on Burn Day.
When we kissed on Christmas Eve,
You weaved your fingers
Through my silken locks
And made me feel beautiful once more.
I still didn't cut my hair,
Even after you left in March,
Save for the split ends
I trimmed in May,
Hoping to eradicate negative energy
But not wanting to let go of you.
Now it's September.
thuggish loverno more on love. tell me
instead of the hearts you've
beaten, and the way
they kept on
lukedon't leave me again;
the seasons flutter by with
the blink of spider web eyelashes
twirled around the pieces of
my decaying heart, molded
and renewed with the dawn
of your spring palms.
my senses spark in a
drunken flood of desire;
i refuse to wash away
our finger-painted memories
into the grasping swallow of
an atlantic undertow, but
the stale taste of vodka
sleeps under my palette.
you don't arc your silver
tongue to sip my salted
gums or latch your fists
into bird's nest tangled curls
--anymore, and the shivers
of shadows spin down my
splintered spine, the snap
of a twig between your
i'm alone; your cosmic dreams
and galactic eroticism treads
underneath another damsel's
breast, an arrow to her heart.
I wallow, naked and discarded,
drinking and drowning in the
alcoholic buzz of your sweat
on my tongue, all along knowing
you and i will never love again.
If I Were A Love PoetFor my Laban. For my love.
Sometimes, often enough
when my thoughts are consumed
with you- I find myself wishing
that I was a love poet.
Wouldn’t it be beautiful
to piece words together so artistically
that I could make people understand
what it’s like to miss hands
that have never held me?
Wouldn’t it be the damnedest thing,
if I could make a stranger
know how it feels to kiss you?
Sweetly, passionately, softly
Hesitantly- and yet all at once?
Even though their lips have never met yours,
Even though our lips have never met.
How lovely would it be
to sanely, yet romantically
explain to my parents what it’s like
to fall asleep with you?
We could tell them how you giggle when I beg you
to be the big spoon- because I feel like it’s to much responsibility.
We could tell them about the sleepy kisses you give me
at 3 a.m when you find me searching for
In the Dark We BecomeYou’re in the stars
That just won’t fade
You’re the days that make me brave.
You’re tired hands always ready
to take my mask off, tears hiding behind it
and you backspace my regrets.
Your lips say I love you,
Your heart slips out through your eyes
Glowing from an implosion
Of tenderness that I have yearned for
You release me from myself
Cutting the ties that chain my heart
From being trapped in this cage.
We become lightning,
A clap in the night that lights
Even the darkest of skies.
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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