ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I am not,
What you see,
Although you may indeed,
Choose not to believe
I am a fabrication,
Built to make you smile,
Cleverly crafted,
So you don't know that I lie
I am not,
As strong as I seem,
And it is not laughter,
That in my eyes gleams
I am a tale of woe,
And one of sorrow,
So weak that I can't lead,
I can only follow
I am not as whole,
On the inside as out,
I am full of misery,
And so full of doubt
I am nothing more than illusion,
A master of it, I am,
I hope that you don't notice,
I don't expect you to understand
Pieces, big ones and small,
Force me to my knees,
Again and again,
Force me to crawl
Spidery cracks,
Lurk underneath my surface,
Making me feel incomplete,
Making me feel worthless
The silver sheen which covers,
Hides my secrets within,
Keeps from you my shame,
Keeps from you my sin
But, if you look closer,
And come nearer,
You will find I am nothing more,
Than a stained and broken mirror
jlp June 1, 2009
What you see,
Although you may indeed,
Choose not to believe
I am a fabrication,
Built to make you smile,
Cleverly crafted,
So you don't know that I lie
I am not,
As strong as I seem,
And it is not laughter,
That in my eyes gleams
I am a tale of woe,
And one of sorrow,
So weak that I can't lead,
I can only follow
I am not as whole,
On the inside as out,
I am full of misery,
And so full of doubt
I am nothing more than illusion,
A master of it, I am,
I hope that you don't notice,
I don't expect you to understand
Pieces, big ones and small,
Force me to my knees,
Again and again,
Force me to crawl
Spidery cracks,
Lurk underneath my surface,
Making me feel incomplete,
Making me feel worthless
The silver sheen which covers,
Hides my secrets within,
Keeps from you my shame,
Keeps from you my sin
But, if you look closer,
And come nearer,
You will find I am nothing more,
Than a stained and broken mirror
jlp June 1, 2009
Literature
Emo Hearts and Suicidal Poetry
Outcasts they tend to call us,
The wierd ones,
The freaks.
But we like to think of ourselves as the special ones
With our permanent-marker doodles on our converses
Ripped jeans and emo hearts and suicidal poems written in the snow
Novels read beneath the covers 'til dawn by light of a flashlight
[batteries nearly dead we've used it so many times before]
And dancing in the rain
Praying to Beethoven
And tears at dusk
And singing to the stars
At the top of our lungs with the car windows open and the night rushing in
Or on the top floor of a beach house with the sea stretched out before us
"Go home, you lose, good day, sir"
Turn ar
Literature
I Hate Everything About You
Lying next to you, eyes tightly shut, feigning a sleep that will never come. Sidelong glances, catch sight of your pale hand above the covers, long fingers still stained with the blood from your latest victim; can barely retain a shudder of revulsion. Reach out, wanting to scratch that stain away, to scratch your skin until it bleeds, but somehow my fingers end up entwined with yours, clutching tight for simple sanity.
Mind cast back to mere hours before and that mortal girl intoxicated on beauty and promise. Your sweet seduction; lips next to hers, hands on her breast. Gentle words whispered in her ears, honeyed lies convincing her to belie
Literature
Shattered
I would break every mirror
so I wouldn't see myself,
so I wouldn't tremble with horror,
so I wouldn't ask for help.
She is a monster;
she would rip me open,
she would burn me 'til I shiver,
and she would do it all over again.
Now I have broken every mirror,
every jagged piece is scattered.
But she's everywhere.
Bleak, I wait to be murdered.
Suggested Collections
© 2009 - 2024 TheseKrimzonFlames
Comments140
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Love it!