|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Close To The HeartWe wont live under a stereotype,
Love is real if we try,
Like an ant crawling across the cracked pavement,
Somehow well make it,
Even after we fall through the crevices
The storm and the wind,
A cyclone, a wave, crashing over me,
If your hands hold mine,
If your hands hold mine
I know I saw you cry,
A million tears that night,
As your heart broke mine,
Like an earthquake, shook me to the bone,
Pulling me under,
But walking blind across the highway,
Isnt too hard,
If your hands hold mine,
If your hands hold me tight
So dont change,
Dont walk away,
Dont even say sorry,
If it makes you happy,
We arent allowed but we will,
Love had nothing to do with this when we were nine,
Now it owns me,
Not even understanding
Hold me tight just dont walk away,
I want you but I dont need you to stay
You whispered hype through me,
Took me into a cemetery,
Something we missed,
Until he was gone,
But touch my hand,
Then Im all yours
If your heart b
Elle's Journal30th November - The Anniversary Of The Day The World Collapsed
It seems like an hour, or two, at the most a day, since Lilal died. It hasnt been a day, it has been a year. He was hit by a car, a drunk driver at barely eight a clock in the morning. Lilal was my best friend, there was no question, no doubt. We were born on the same day, three minutes apart, in the same hospital, we were friends before birth, I could hardly believe we never got sick of each other. Most people presumed we were related, although as far as I knew, we werent.
We looked alike, we had different colour eyes but the rest was basically the same. We had blonde hair, mine was a little lighter than his, we had the same shape face and nose. Our lips were plump and pink. We both had fair skin and burned easily, so we helped each other put heaps of sunscreen on before we went surfing or on one of our bush walks.
We were both short, basically I think thats what bro
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
Keep in Touch!
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