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Death's Tale"And what do you do for a living, Mr ?"
"Jacobs. Jake Jacobs."
"Mr. Jacobs. What do you do for a living?"
How was I supposed to answer that? 'Oh, I'm a hit man. I go out and kill the people that you don't want to kill or don't have the skill to. Got any jobs for me?' Now, don't you think that's an alarming answer to tell someone who's supposed to be 'curing' you? This doctor was going to think I was absolutely off my rocker.
"I mostly do odd jobs. You know, lift heavy things for sweet little old ladies, work on farms, load trucks... That kind of stuff."
It was the typical answer for a counselor. Or therapist. Or whatever the heck this guy was, I don't know. I don't even know why I was there. My wife, she thinks something's wrong with me. Thinks that I'm unemotional. What the hell am I supposed to be, anyway? You have to be detached when you're in my line of work. Of course I couldn't sit there and tell her that either. She'd divorce me in a hurry and take the kids away.
The CoinTwo sides of the same coin
Yet both sides are blind to the other
Internal struggling, external warmth
Both battling for control
When dark washes over
Consuming the outside
Just as it had with the in
There is no understanding
Confusion followed quickly by frustration
Raging like a storm at sea
There is no understanding
Why does it have to be?
The outside fights the inside
Wanting true tranquility
Yet, somehow, the inside never fades
Burning bright, fighting back
Ignorant of the other's wishes
Burning the outside down to nothing
An endless war
Between two sides
Of the same coin
The FireThe fire raged on
I fed it time and time again
I watched it burn the forests down
I watched as it destroyed
I watched as it terrorized
I stood by and let it burn
Every thing once stood green
Life bloomed all around me
The sunshine on my face
The warmth of something loving
A loving time and place
But something changed inside me
I began to light the fire
Everything began burning bright
I stood by and watched it happen
I watched the world burn down
Now I'm left with nothing
There are ashes at my feet
The green is just a memory
The faint taste of something sweet
Silent FilmSilent Film
i watch movies
with the sound turned off.
coffee stains on my couch
as my eyes stare at the screen.
requiem for a dream careen,
carom off broad pupils
as the air conditioning
converses with shadows.
light bouncing off glass--
it’s the only lively thing here.
sitting on the edge of irony.
loveseat divots as sitting love pivots
and we were just a hiccup
in romanticised gossip rising
from hungry tongues
and parched throats.
as memories kiss me,
i drop the clicker to the carpet.
i haven’t vacuumed in ages.
intravenous inception is a depressant
watching electro-shock therapy
wishing i was thrown into that box.
heavy eyelids scintillate
to a crawl,
my life is a silent film
and i’m bursting like ellen,
suffering from a psychosis cocktail.
coffee and shit mixed in with demons
of a diluted denizen,
disintegrated before riven.
before folding like sara,
bending into origami
and discarded into the shredder.
twenty-threescars are like tattoos
no matter how
they got there, you still
like the look of them.
Her name was HeroHer name was Hero,
such a high thing to live up to.
It promised great things for her,
but she was none.
well, none except one.
She was a small girl,
Who always bowed down to others,
was looked down upon by others,
spit upon by others until she was just another smudge in the greasy linoleum tile hallways of this prison.
Her name was Hero.
She was taught to embrace the cool pull of the rope,
the indifferent slice of the knife,
the vibrant red of the galls and cuts became the only color in her life.
She was grey.
And every day she looked into the great abyss of social media,
and she was popular.
She couldn't escape her fate even when in the perpetual twilight of her neglected room
where grey walls met grey floors through a hidden door.
But she endured.
Her name was Hero,
and when she graduated from the class of "we made it" and "Embrace the hate",
Until one da
twenty-twoyou aren't supposed to bury your children.
but if you're the one that killed them,
i guess it doesn't matter
Contest - Create a World unseenI was filled with joy
That soon came to an end
When I saw your hand
Reaching for the doorknob
While I stared at the door
Waiting for you to burst in
About to destroy this place
of peace and serenity
I swallowed hard
One last time
The door swung open
Your eyes filled with
Ignorance and confusion
You looked at me
Being bare naked and
Your confusion made place
And before you could even
say a word-
I shut down the light,
left my thoughts
And turned to dark.
To my once muse. It seems that centuries have passed sense I savored your name on my lips.
Sugary and moist, like the bottom end of a strawberry.
Now, whenever I whisper it;
it tastes like bitter old cigarettes.
I have been told to loathe endings.
But I can't help but love the way the spine of the book creases to a close.
Dust mites residing in the crooks of metaphors.
Of gleaming memories that had long began to rust.
As if the puffs of the cigarette were flavored with strawberries.
You, who with her single existence fueled me with the soupy red of hatred.
Melancholic blues of regret.
And vibrant buds of acceptance.
Who shall I write poems about now?
You have stringed my similes across your languid neck.
Cracked my irony between bony knuckles.
Chewed by conjugated verbs.
No matter what, remember you are special.
So much more than you shall ever know.
You were my m
HappyWake up be positive
Going to have an amazing day
Watching my babies is going to be a joy
Even if I have to force myself I am going to be happy today
Not going to worry about anything but being with my little family
Catch the WindOut in this world, you'll never reach the sky.
Perched up in a tree, no use of your wings.
Words will bounce and sounds will dim
"Why don't you do it? Just fly."
You'll say no
You'll say the view is much nicer up here.
Well that's it, isn't it?
It's just a view.
"Don't you want to perch on that sight?"
Fools stay still
Fools let the world stomp on those wings.
But you'll say you don't need them.
"Well what if you do soon?"
Over countless lectures
And endless wisdom
You'll stay in your tree.
And say it's better for you
Then it is for me.
Who can say when or if you'll branch away
Over the cliffs and through the plains.
But then you will.
For once, you'll see.
The only thing holding me back
Not everybody will ever get to fly.
But please, oh please try
Before you die.
Not Crying OutIt's not a cry for attention
Nor something done just to spite
It simply came along
And took a hold of my life
With hooked claws
And teeth urgent to dig in
It simply took hold
Day by day, it digs in deeper
Gradually degrading my confidence
Gradually degrading me
Until, one day, I may cease to exist
Because it ate me away
Leaving nothing but a hollow being
With no traces at the core
Simply black, burned, and broken
To never be as I was once before
Of Snake Charmers and TreesThere are mathematicians
that calculate the gravitational
pull that tethers us to one another,
teasing sense out of the fabric
of Time and Space like
wizened snake charmers.
I thought them so horribly
unromantic, searching for
logic amidst wildflowers-
reasoning being reason enough
to put one foot in front
of the other each day.
True beauty lay printed
on petals and pages,
where I delved for pearls;
the patterns in the pathos
intriguing me into each
rising of the sun.
I do not remember when
it occurred to me that
without fractals there would
be no trees, nor without love
would people have any reason
to calculate the distances that
separate them from their muses.
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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