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TabooWhen I first met you...
you revealed your dark ideals.
Yet, others don't understand...
the way I truly understand you.
Your ideals are considered taboo.
You interest yourself in dark things...
like a cult performing dark magic...
under a black and sinister moon.
Your mind is dark and dirty...
to those who do not understand.
Yet you submerge yourself deeper...
into that deep dark taboo.
You search for one to understand you.
Yet, nobody chooses to listen to your taboo.
You're being forced down a long and dark tunnel...
one deeply full of darkness and hatred.
Yet, I am one of the few who understand you.
I understand your deep and dark taboo...
like a deep understanding between brothers.
And so, here we are with your misunderstanding of me.
Even with our conflicting ideas, I shall stand up for you...
to guide others to the understanding of your taboo.
Until others understand your deep ideals...
I shall stand up for you forever more.
Drums of WarThe drums of war ring in my ears...
signalling the fight that is soon to come.
Marching down the blood-stained fields of war...
to fight the good fight for all of mankind.
The booms and the gunshots ring through the air.
The bang of drums fill the air with fire.
The drums ring in my very ear...
as I run out into the war to fight with fire.
It's the good fight the people say.
But what is so good about a fight?
It only brings bloodshed and death...
as the drums of war ring in my ears.
I lifted my rifle and shot into the dust.
Through the air the bullet soared...
into the head of the opposing enemy...
as he dropped to the ground in a pool of blood.
The commander shouted his commands...
as soldiers rushed into the field of battle...
to fight the good fight for all of mankind...
and to slay the enemy that would be our bane.
Bang! Bang! Bang went the guns...
as the bullets flew through the open air...
killing many as they drop to the ground.
Such an action cannot be undone.
People scream in
Life As It IsI am here. I am now.
I feel myself falling down.
I've fallen out.
I know how I feel.
Oh, how I must yield...
to the faces of hell...
to fuel my taboo...
and feel myself beginning to break.
Things feel bad to me.
That I can truly bet.
But the good times...
I know they're around...
the dark and empty corner...
of this broken hell-hole...
of the life that I live...
under the shadows of taboo.
I know I am breaking down...
but the good is yet to come.
I just have to wait and see...
for what awaits for myself.
The future is coming...
the only thing I can hope for...
is the destiny I shall soon see...
I feel like hell.
But the good times...
They are coming.
I just have to wait...
for what the future holds...
in this broken life.
I'll have to endure...
the life I live...
for I know no other way...
to live out my days...
Pity's PartyCome on, just look at me,
I lost Happy to Misery,
In a dance with Pedigree,
Amidst the sirens of Apathy,
In the mosh pit in my head.
Can't you see how fun I am?
When my Pride's on the lam,
Sipping Sorrow like Baby Cham,
Falling foul of Honesty's scam,
On the dance floor in my chest.
I look so grievously good,
Doing what Agony should,
And what Depravity would,
In command of the red regiments stood,
On the catwalk of my wrist.
I can hear them pounding,
Watching and surrounding,
Laughing and floundering,
With Pain and Woe hounding,
In the nightclub of my gut.
My guests are saying to,
Cheer no longer pulling through,
Despair sticking like glue,
With Sin ready to sue,
At the opera in my throat.
Watch me as I lose control,
As Loneliness takes it's toll,
Filling out Insanity's role,
Joining Death's lost shoal,
Inside the crypt of life.
See my eyes flutter and fade,
Marching in the Black Parade,
Finding shelter in Hate's shade,
And losing all I had ever made,
As the curtain closes,
To a dozen
Lost and FoundLost and Found
Here I am walking around aimlessly
Scars surround every part of my body
Lies are all that I seem to know
Tears no longer come out
Just the supreme silence
I walk for what seems to be forever
I lose the strength that I have to stand
I was done, I was done with trying
I wanted to sit and rot
But there you were
The flickering light in my hurt eyes
You came for me...came running
At this close to dead corpse
You whispered thoughts of hope- often true thoughts
It was never merely flattery, and overreacted words
Nor was it fake for secret intentions
It was honest, kind, true
You are the only one that makes me feel this way
Because you are the first one you found ME
I want desperately to say I love you my friend
You help in me in so many ways.
-March 2, 2012-
Your Beck and CallYou don't treat me with respect
So why do I give it to you?
You see me as garbage
While I see you as a king
I am at your beck and call
I've been nothing but nice to you
Giving you everything you always wanted
So when you wanted me out of your life
I reluctantly had to oblige
So you could be happy
I know you didn't read what I wrote to you
You probably threw it in the trash
Because you've forgotten about me
But I haven't forgotten about you
Not a day goes by where I don't think of you
How much I miss you
I miss us
Being friends or more
Sometimes I lie in bed all day
Too depressed to get up
But despite how miserable I may be
I really do hope you're happy
I hope she makes you happy
You never even gave me a chance to show you
How happy I could make you
You ran away
And you gave me no choice
But to let you
I would suffer every second of every day
If only to guarantee that your beautiful smile
Was never removed from your handsome face
I would willingly spend the rest of my life in pain
Can My Death?Can my death end hate crimes?
Can my death stop the war in Iraq?
Can my death cure AIDS?
Can my death help the kids in africa?
Can my death end racism?
Can my death stop animal cruelty?
Can my death cure cancer?
Can my death help homeless people?
No, my death won't solve any of this.
But it will save me from this living hell.
Ready.Ready to kill,
Ready to fight,
Ready to learn,
Ready to forget,
Ready to hate,
Ready to love,
Ready to know,
Ready to not,
Ready to stand strong,
Ready to cry,
Ready to believe,
Ready to lie,
Ready to fake happiness,
Ready to feel the sadness,
Ready to accept,
Ready to deny,
Ready to live,
Ready to die.
Some things never change.
Tragic CoincidenceI wrote of a bullied suicide
A girl who could no longer handle the hurtful names
The thoughts that went through other's minds
Little did I know
It was happening right before my eyes
Not of the same type of bullying
But bullying nonetheless
She showed no signs
No symptoms at all
To make any of us believe
She wanted out
Just a week before the occurrence
I was thinking of suicide
What it was like
How people need to realize it is real
To realize bullying can easily cause it
I hoped and prayed the domino effect
Would not reach my circle of friends
I guess my prayers were not answered
We do not know
We do not understand what went through her head
Why did she not talk to us?
She promised she would
But now our triangle has been altered
To physical and in spirit
It is coincidental
Bullying is serious
Suicide is serious
Talk to someone please
"Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem "
Kindness Passed By (The Scapegoat)Those with a gentle heart get kicked first
They are the ones who are always taken for granted
I was always that person
I am that person
I am responsible for the actions of those around me
It is my job to make everything right
Even if it is not my fault
I am the scapegoat
I am used for my kindness
And blamed when things go wrong
But I don't mind
I never mind
Because it is my job to fix this
Its my job to fix everything
At the end of the day
You still won't remember my name
You don't remember me
I am the scapegoat
And I don't mind
I can't mind
To feel pain pursue,
To cry some more,
To cut my wrists,
Oh how I hate,
Losing faith again...
You tell me this, you tell me that..You tell me you love me,
then you tell me no one can.
You tell me I'm amazing,
then you tell me I'm intolerable.
You tell me not to be ashamed,
then you make me feel that way.
You tell me I'm beautiful,
then you call me the opposite.
You tell me I make you happy,
then you tell me your cuts are my fault.
You tell me you'd never lie to me,
then I find out the truth from strangers.
You tell me to stay strong,
My PrisonHere I lie, forever a prisoner...
not of oppression, not of hate...
but a prisoner of my own dark mind...
forever trapped with no way out.
I bang on the bars...
but nobody comes...
to break me free...
from my own dark mind.
I scream for one...
to come help me...
but here I remain...
a prisoner of my own dark mind.
Why must I be a prisoner?
Why must I be trapped here...
held inside my own taboo...
forever within my own dark mind?
My soul is long broken...
within my dark mind...
it is deteriorating...
slowly breaking down...
So, who will guide me out of my prison?
Who will free me from my own dark mind?
Who out there will be my savior...
to liberate me from my own dark mind...
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
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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