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Is it so hardIs it so much not to be alone
To ask to go out even alone,
just able to say she's tired,
that she'll be here later,
She's got work in the morning
Is it so much to ask to not be the third wheel,
the fifth the seventh the eleventh,
Can't I ask to not go home alone
or to an empty bed, not every night
Can't I ask for a reason not to be out
or to come along, or to be late.
What about a reason to not go home.
Its it so hard to ask not to be alone.
To fill the void, and carry the pain.
To hold my tears, to cry for me,
because I wont, or I can't.
Is it to hard to ask to not be alone?
The Young Become Old, and Yet still YoungI doesn't hit me until the nights like thease,
The nights I go to bars and look around,
Where the crowds are old and the music still loud,
Where family still sits all around,
but not in the places of old.
It's not till the nights like thease do i realize how old I've become,
How Young I truely am,
and how old I have yet to become.
Burnt Bridges (Original)I burnt the Land
I boiled the sea
I salted the earth
and poisoned the wells
I Walked the earth,
yet I returned to you.
I saw the land reapi itself
I saw the bridge being rebuilt
When I started to put boards down,
you where gone, and the land was destroyed
I'm waiting....A heart surrounded by darkness
Each crevasse growing longer
Deeper with each day
I feel this heart
Being polluted by the darkness more and more .
The darkness seeps into the cracks
Like water into rocks
I'm waiting for the breaking point
I'm waiting for the shatter
I'm waiting .
Lone Wolf, No ClubI am a lone wolf
I live in exile
I live on the edges
I sit on my paws,
looking onto others.
I see happiness and
sorrow and pride,
but I feel none,
no happiness no
no sorrow or pride
Just the negative...
I feel fear,
fear of loneliness,
I feel fear,
of my own depression
I am a lone wolf.
I may not have chosen
my exile, but I
will embrace this, my exile
I will embrace
these dark emotions
tell light and
love find my dark
and tormented soul
for I am a lone wolf
and I have no club.
Ghosts that Never WhereMy mind falls back to the day we meet
That days seems long ago
Flash forward to your betrayal
The first knife you stuck in my heart
I would forgive you in time
For time heals all wounds
And still I felt for you
Years latter we stood on terms.
A year latter my feelings returned
But this time I felt them from you
Just a hint at first, but they where there
It took 6 month's for you to admit them
When you did I began to regret
I remember the night.
I relive it often
Dinner, you in that dress
Your sister in blue,
My tux, my red vest and tie
Driving your car, sitting alone in the sky
You, your texts. I read them to remember
To remember I wasn't imagining
To remember it was real
I remember the theatre
You head on my shoulder
I remember the dinner we shared
Your favorite restaurant
I remember the rumors
The rumors That ended what could have been
What ended what never was.
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
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
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
Burnt Bridges (V2)I burned the land,
I boiled the sea,
I did not find Screnity,
I Salted the Earth
and Poined the wells,
I walked away from the smoldering reamins
I roamed the earth for a time,
but I kept return to that place from before
I destroyed the land so She could move on
Yet she stayed, and tried to rebuild.
I finnely forgave my mistake,
I put the first board down on my side,
I look up and saw that she had moved on
and the land was destroyed once again
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