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Fate and circumstanceWe can never fully know can we?
On how we affect each other, just what we’ve done, and how we’ve changed the course of reality
We alter people’s lives by not even saying anything
By almost seemingly doing nothing
And by being at a certain place, a certain time; by being and doing all that we are
We change the world, we’ve changed ourselves, and we can change each other
Most times, we won't even realise…
How do you know, that by being there, you didn’t alter someones future?
Your presence might’ve stopped somebody, from saying something, hurting someone
Your presence has an impact, like it or not
How do you know, that what/who you are doesn’t matter? That your personality doesn’t have weight, that who you are has no meaning?
How can you just say stuff, when you'll never truly realise?
You may never even know, that you didn’t prevent someone from doing something,
You may never even know, just how you added to the scene.
SuicideThe peace death brings,
It tempts me greatly.
I say I will never end it,
But when you feel like living death,
What is the point?
When life brings you so much pain,
And death promises peace,
Why fight it?
I already feel like I am slowly dying,
Why not speed up the process and put my suffering to an end?
Cave InThis pain is a cave in,
You try to run,
Escape before it catches up to you.
You dodge the falling stone,
The insults and blows,
But sooner or later,
You can not dodge them all.
It suffocates you,
Turns you numb.
You stop running,
You stop caring that you're no longer running,
No longer fighting to survive.
You are helpless to stop the debris from landing on you,
Wounding and scarring you.
You think to yourself,
What is the point of running,
Only to be hit by something else when you think you've escaped.
To run into another corner,
Another mirage smiling as an exit.
So you lay there,
The pain tears you apart,
And you think to yourself,
When you're running dead.
If you have enough strength,
You will scream for help and hope people hear,
But you do not expect them to come and pull you out.
Even if that's all you want, all you need,
Is for someone to pull you out of the cave and heal your wounds,
You do not expect them to help.
You are waiting to be found,
But you are living dead.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More