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DisrespectIn my life I get mistreated everywhere I turn,
But when you look at me I smile,
You would think at least she’s
having a great life.
Never judge it’s never true.
I’m a girl that loves to help others,
But inside I want to come out,
and show people how it feels to be ran over
and not get to say how you feel.
This girl is tired of getting hurt,
beaten down, to the point that
I can’t take anymore.
I just want to get alone with everybody,
But some people don’t allow it,
And that’s most of the people I know.
Why disrespect someone that hasn't
done anything to you!!
I’m ready for the real girl to come out.
Life is to short to take bullshit
from people that have no control of your life!!
Disrespecting people want get you anywhere in life.
Respect every person you see.
One day you could be in there shoes.
Keep smiling it heals the soul!!
Please Come BackMy friend,
you helped me more than you know,
every time I see your work I remember the times we shared.
the times you helped me fix problems,
and give advice!
At this time in my life I really need a friends advice,
and I can honestly say I trust you,
my friend come back to me.
your words speak so true and kind,
I've never forgotten or left you behind,
I go back in time,
but yet still no sign.
I wish you the best luck in this life and hope
that I hear from
my friend in time.
I miss hearing from you My Friend
Stupid DreamsStupid dreams,
What I want to know is how can you
forget something if It comes back in your dreams?
You wake up crying
because people that you left behind for good reasons,
Things that happened that you wished never did,
And it still haunts you at every corner you turn.
Why want my mind let it go,
Why does it have to remind me of the past?
All I hear from people is you need to let it go,
That's the past,
It will only hurt you if you hold on to it.
Well I'm not holding on to it,
It pops up in my dreams,
I wake up with tears rolling down my face,
I don't want this,
I'm tired of dreaming of people that I loved,
With the feeling of getting heartbroken over and over.
Every time I have a dream the pain gets stronger.
Why do we even have dreams?
Everybody says dreams are better than real life,
I have nightmares,
I want them to stop.
Who wants to wake up crying?
Over something that should have been put in the past,
Feeling the pai
If I CouldIf I could,
I would say what was on my mind,
I would give out my heart to the world,
And not be afraid of what they would say,
I would tell them how I feel,
And what keeps running through my mind
All day and every day,
The feeling of not knowing how to handle it,
Or if it's really who I am.
If I could,
I would scream it out loud,
Telling the ones I love without any doubt,
But I can't,
I don't know if it's true,
People would see me different,
Like I would do so myself,
So tell me how you can tell someone something
When you don't even know that it's true in your own heart?
The feelings, the thoughts, and the hate toward yourself
Telling you it's not you,
That it's wrong,
If you could,
What would you do?
Beautiful KidsHe never thought of this happening,
he was with a girl he knew for a while,
he loved her,
she was his dream come true,
everything a guy would cherish,
then it all changed,
he got tired of her
and her bull,
then less then three years down the
road he got an email,
" You have a daughter",
he never got to see her be born,
but when he met her it was a very
like she knew him her whole life,
his life changed from then on,
he stopped doing drugs,
and changed his attitude,
everything was not the same,
then his babies mother told him
"If you don't marry me you can't see
her ever again",
well he felt like he had to do it,
he didn't wanna lose his beautiful daughter,
his heart beat for her,
she's all he cared about,
he wanted to be there for her,
and down the road he got a son,
and the same thing he didn't get to
see him be born,
how cold can someone be,
to not let the father see his kids be born,
he took her bull,
and did the best h
Six Second Poem"We're all the same," she said. "Friend, tell me," she asked, "how are we different?"
For six seconds I paused, then I said:
Some of us ..
love more than we hate,
laugh more than we cry,
work harder than we play, but
live before we die.
Some of us don't.
And that, my friend, is how we are all different.
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
I've ForgottenWhen she died
I tied a knot in my stomach
so I would remember
but I've been so busy
trying to remember her dying
I forgot how to forget.
how to let go -
and the doctors said
they would cut me open
and snip her out
a blade between the bows
and the pain, would be gone
but I've forgotten
how to let go -
and I still don't want to.
I willI will love you
all the way to the place where ladybirds go to die,
to the lushest corners of the earth
that hold the secrets no man was meant to see
and we will find them, and know them together.
I will love you
all the way to the place where bubbles are made
at the bottom of a glass of cider
that blisters the glass with condensation
as we trade hats and laugh at the way the air smiles.
I will love you
all the way inside a branch where buds dream of Becoming,
where those one-day-flowers stir wooden hearts
into an uprising, into a blossoming life
and we will plant our ambitions there, in the blooming place.
I will love you
all the way to the square brackets that hold our boxes
because you are my best friends, and you will be
as we fold papery hands around paper-cut wrists and cry
and mourn eighty-odd years flown by too fast. Even then.
Even then, I will love you still.
love didn't matter, but home was with youi.
there's still shadows left of you
even with the
little that remains. i wish
sometimes the light
would stop it's singing long enough
for them to grow,
my heart spends enough
time aching when
just the photographs
show their faces.
you took me
to a wedding once - it was a cold
night, and the
of stars in the sky made
it seem like God's
breath was reaching out
to earth. i don't remember
the names of the two who
indefinitely, anymore, not
when the wind's taken
in it's hold; but i remember crying because
love's just so damn
hard to find, and you
found me instead behind
the rosebushes that
were too stained to be called
me that sometimes
love doesn't matter, and
i (did)n't want to
you asked me once if anything
mattered, a lighter
gracing one hand and a
cigarette lining your
lips. i wasn't
sure back then
and i don't know
if i am now
(but i think i want to say yes).
my body never felt
unarticulatedtonight I ask myself:
where are you going with all these names
in your pockets? syllables that taste
unauthentic in the desperate American
repression is a series of images
earthbound angels breathing
flame, starving hands speaking
in tongues, glazed eyes
asking are you fucking okay
pale skin becoming moonlight,
reflecting and refracting and
the quiet understatement
Diamond TearIn silence
I observe them
Laughing and having fun
While I'm in my corner
I feel out of place
I don't belong here
So I leave
And no one notices
Now I'm out on the street
A dark and silent one
Enjoying the breeze
Lost in my thoughts
Suddenly I hear a sob
And I look around
I see a girl
Sitting on a bench
A single diamond tear
Running down her face
I don't know her
No one else is around
I could just leave
But I can't
So I sit by her side and ask
Without looking her in the eyes
For a moment
And then she takes my hand
And we look
Into each other's eyes
And she whispers
The Elephant ManHe had elephant hands; swollen and tendered
by old age and wiping away childrens' crying
so they were leathered and carefully painted
with a veneer of the dust made by old books,
but when he read to me the pages didn't shake
and his throat didn't contract about the words
like they were enemies to be spat out, bloodied.
Lungs didn't shiver and eyes didn't milk, then.
Now, I see love ephemeral. I see love half-dead
and carving its riverbed path, slowly eroding;
until it can rejoin oceans once known in heaven.
Now, I see him ephemeral. I see him half-living.
I see the fear of burdenship as the only thing
that makes his eyes flicker how Pernod used to.
I see a beautiful, crumpled drawing of my hero
as my grandfather slips, wearily, back to sleep.
SafeI clasped my hand tight shut around my mothers.
I was a possessive oyster wrapped around pearly fingers
bitten white by the freshly whisked air.
We braced ourselves against the frozen metal frames
that, although unmovable by infantile hands,
were not a substantial enough barrier against a tempest.
The sea lashed out its limbs in a fury
and the sky’s face paled grey with worry
at what that grasping anger might achieve.
It rose to greet us, stood on mighty churning haunches
and collapsed heavily around our shoulders
with the dramatic violence of a dancer
crashing down upon a splintered Tibia.
It drenched us, filling mouths and ears with water.
My mother’s hand squeezed mine, comforting,
and as the sea drew back again,
preparing to strike out at us over and over
until its very exhaustion point – and over once more –
As it readied itself to slash our raincoats,
with the force of an evening spiralling into true darkness,
over and over –
for a moment the smell o
I know when I'm alive,
I can feel pain of you not with me,
I can feel the pain of missing you,
all I do is wish to be in your arms,
and never want to leave them,
that's how I know
I get mad,
I miss past memories,
I wish I could change things,
I'm happy knowing your mine,
when we hold hands,
my heart beats so fast,
it feels like it could bust,
when we kissed,
for the first time,
the world stopped,
that's how I know
gives me hope,
I love you,
would die for you,
and would give you the world,
baby that's how I know,
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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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