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until blood vessels burst
in my eyes,
until my lungs
relent their struggle,
until my heart slows
as if my blood were venom.
What is it
that I'm so afraid of?
Is it the fear
of losing you?
who have been a pillar
when my life is reduced
Or is it the fear
of keeping you?
on what little space
I have left.
but a pawn
in your life plan.
You caught me,
a feral creature,
You caged me
in your narrow world.
You clipped my
so I can never fly again.
But I can climb,
and I will.
I will escape
the cement walls
to trap me inside.
But I refuse
to go gently.
to be your
I will shatter
your glass bubble.
I will teach you
how animals respond
for what you've done.
I will leave you
Social AnxietyThe sudden urge
To hurl your phone at the floor
The moment it rings
Just to avoid any type of confrontation
That aching inside your stomach
When you know the clear answer to the question
And something inside is screaming to raise your hand
But it's gone limp at your side
The moment someone asks a common question
But it strikes a nerve
And you feel a flush crawl up your face
They weren't supposed to know about that.
When something unrelated sneaks up in your mind
And fighting back the tears seems so impossible
While a war rages on in your head
Just bite your tongue and show nothing
Nothing brings more dread than that horrible word
When your words fumble out of your mouth
And desperately try to find the right order
Your palms will sweat
And you'll pick at your nails
Just keep your head low
And hope no one will notice you
Sometimes silence will be worst
And so you'll stutter and ramble about nothing at all
Until you bite down as hard as you can
In hopes of keeping your nervou
My Scars Prove You Wrong (finished song)Scars on the surface, on my skin
Look at my wounds to know where I’ve been
Throwing me against my own walls
But I’ve learned to fly, when I fall
And I know my scars are only on the surface.
I know that I,
I am not worthless
No matter how they break me,
No matter how they hurt me
You know a heart
Keeps on bleeding, when it breaks it goes on beating
I, I’ll keep on keeping on
‘Cause my scars prove you wrong.
You can tear down my protection
Destruction is your obsession
Your hatred is resurrecting me.
No matter how they break me,
No matter how they hurt me,
Ill keep on breathing when I’m held underwater
Even if breathing gets a little bit harder
I’ll keep on walking just a little bit farther
And you can’t hold me back
HomophobesYou know, it really saddens me how some people seem to think that they are 'above' gays. I don't see the point in it, honestly. And I know I'm not alone. Someone actually suggested that I do a rant on unfairness towards the LGBT community, but I can't remember who. Sorry. Anyway, why do you homophobes think you're so perfect? Just because you're straight doesn't mean you have a right to hurt others who aren't.
I identify with being pansexual, myself, because I think personality and morals mean a hell of a lot more than gender. Of course, I can't tell my family this because I would be disowned so fast my head would spin. Is that fair? No. I asked my mom once if she would hate me if I ever told her I was gay, etc., and she said no, but...I know better. I come from a family of Southern uber-Christians. What does that tell you?
Once again I say this: you're not better than anyone else out there in this big, wide world. We are all equal. Gays, lesbians, transvestites, straight people, it's
They don’t prepare you for this
Not one of the parenting books
And none of your doctors or friends.
So you’re not ready when they tell you that
There’s nothing you can do to make her breathe again.
It’s sudden, like the name implies, but with a subtly that you’d never guess.
It’s as if something swiftly snatched her up and set her down too fast
But there are no bruises, no broken bones or scrapes or cuts.
And the only thing left to you is a wish that it didn’t hurt too much.
Snuffed out like a taper by a furious wind
The nascent form, your personal cherub,
Will never breathe again.
Something six days old, or maybe just a month
Who was loved and has been loved and will forever be loved
Is incredibly absent; and the new sound that silence makes reverberates off
The brightly painted, hopeful walls. It is a haunting and deafening
Shallow, hollow sound, left behind in the absence of your beloved
Who will never hear it at all, and who
Battles of the NightHer eyes are dark and full of pain,
She hides behind her smile.
Beneath those eyes the shadows lie;
They speak of restless nights.
Each night she sleeps a few short hours,
But never all at once.
Throughout the night she is awake;
She fights with her own mind.
She wars with memories of the ones
Who filled her with such fear.
She cannot banish thoughts of them,
However hard she tries.
And so she takes a different way
To keep away the fear.
Each day she works despite the pain,
Allows herself no rest.
Her body cannot take much more,
She knows it will collapse.
But that's the only way she's found
To overpower her mind.
She runs herself beyond her limits;
She works herself to death.
But when she finally stops to rest,
Exhaustion is her friend.
For she has learned the secret now
To overcome her thoughts.
Her body's need to recover strength
Must far outweigh her fear.
But she cannot let herself relax,
Unless she is secure.
Precautions she must take each night,
Before she can drift off.
DavexReader - Intense StareI’m just sitting there, minding my own business, reading a paperback, when suddenly Dave bats the book away, his hands planted on the floor between my knees and leaning forward, mere centimeters from my face, his shades elsewhere for once. With the couch at my back, there’s no way to move away to get more space between us, but I seriously question if I want to. This close, the faint sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose is slightly more obvious, and his eyebrows and eyelashes are perfectly visible. Normally, they’re virtually invisible, their fairness blending into the sun-kissed paleness of his skin, and the former usually concealed under a sweep of perfectly styled bangs anyway. As it is, there’s the slightest pinch between and under his brows, and- Wow. His crimson eyes are half-shaded, the cardinal of his irises deepening to brick under the scimitars of his lashes. Flecked with burgundy, cherry, crimson, and
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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