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The PrairiesOur golden star blazes through the heavens,
Wearing scattering rays like the crown of a king.
The wind inhales the contents of the vast sky,
Then exhales as the clouds fashion their latest design.
The seemingly never ending rows of burnt wheat invite
a type of silence, but there is none to be found here.
The gliding moths and flies buzz like loose electricity,
Stalking coyotes cry and yelp through moon lit darkness.
The water of the meadow lakes run through my veins,
My heart will always live in this wild grass jungle.
Those EyesI love the mischief in those eyes,
a puzzle I will never understand.
Each playful laugh gets me going,
something like love keeps flowing.
That sly smile is just so tempting,
your warm skin keeps me sane.
You and me, the perfect crime,
our paradise just so sublime.
I get lost in your somber whispers,
your sad stories have me hooked.
Our souls became tangled into one,
I never thought this day would come.
DreamsThe silver moon wakes
from its shadowy cradle.
Sleep kidnaps my brain
and casts a strange spell.
Atoms swirl and spin as
they set my mind ablaze.
Colours bleed into shapes,
a secret story is written.
Ocean SkiesI watch ocean skies
drown each sailing bird.
Swimming clouds kiss
the stretched blueness.
The wind flies lost;
her soft breath flows
as live shadows sway
to the beat of the earth.
The patterns of energy
lavishly flood my eyes.
flawed in her beauty.
TigerYour little paws can
climb carpet mountains.
You stalk invisible mice,
then jump on my face.
You are not a tiger, kitty,
but you sure play the part.
TrashAll we know and can see,
is drawn skilfully by Mother Nature.
But what if this is just a rough draft?
And she decides to crumple it up
and throw it in the garbage?
Creation as we know it,
sitting on top of a banana peel.
StorytellerThe night is sharp with stars that dance as
I wonder in awe of what is and can be,
The sky tells a story of a sacred love.
Questioning why seems so useless,
Just let my soul melt with the cosmos...
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
YouIf you’re a girl, you’re a girl.
If you’re a boy, you’re a boy.
If you’re white, you’re white.
If you’re black, you’re black.
If you’re gay, you’re gay.
If you’re bi, you’re bi.
If you’re straight, you’re straight.
If you’re religious, you’re religious.
If you’re an atheist, you’re an atheist.
If you’re mentally disabled, you’re still human.
If you’re physically disabled, you’re still human.
For everything you are:
So who are they to judge you for who you are?
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
daydreams and monsters.she was a girl.
she ran with the moon,
chased fireflies in the bluegrass, and
watched the reflection of sunsets in rain puddles.
her name was Alice,
and she was a girl.
but to the dragonflies she was a queen,
and to the mirror she was a sister.
the moon was her prince, and the
blinking windows were the eyes
that kept her safe.
she spent her nights making wishes, and she
dragged her fingers along the shooting stars
that were tangled with her vertebrae.
her name was Alice,
and she was a girl.
her body was a river
her mind was an ocean
and her heart was the sky.
she lived in a world where
doves flew in the sea and
whales swam in the
poem for borderlinesif i could concentrate over
seven hundred thousand eyes
at the roof to the numbers stepping
from the nicities & rows
to go back
to the shattered surface
& the ripples beating over the hang
halfway between shallow
biting lips. maybe--
she couldn't have known
that it takes a whole three minutes
for the lungs to
well, maybe she
who, oh well
the white; the haze--
the booming over
the spume and spray
me get out of my head
just pull up the shutters
my tongue the weight to talk
but that's all we'll ever be:
a match burning itself out for
under the backspray of someone else's wheels
Confessions Of A King- Part 2
Confessions Of A King
You must remember all the battles,
That broke out in our land,
Those Heroes not forgotten,
Who gave a helping hand.
I myself have not forgotten,
All the people that we lost,
All the men, women and children,
All the souls that that mattered most.
And now, I hear your question,
Where was I on that day?
When they killed all my people,
When in piles all the dead lay.
When the sun became a fire,
When it burned the blissful breeze,
When the day was filled with shadows,
When death clouded the breeze.
When they set fire to our patience,
When we could not sit and pray.
When we battled with our fists,
When the colours turned all grey.
And yes... I do remember,
The day our people's words were heard,
When they killed without pity,
Our visions became blurred.
Our tears ran down in rivers,
Our country ripped away,
Our voices were all silenced,
The days filled with dismay.
In those days
dealer.ive committed the perfect crime but this perfect is inherently defected,
the cost to me is nothing absolute but coinscience shattering to most,
im a living exception only because ive been on the other side of the scandal,
poison to the masses,producing riches almost too effortlessly,
unfairly tipping the scales and altering the balance to create a edge,a dominance,
it is still a trade with seemingly set expenses but thats a myth created from pure denial,
dealer,trafficker quickly becomes owner,master.
what is yours is mine and no,this is not vice versa.
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More