|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
What I Hide...I've come to be a silly fool
who somehow, still belives in fate-
Logically, I know it's wrong,
and fairytales are overrated,
Still I place significance in
actions that I doubt have any.
And though I still believe there's One,
Already I have loved too many.
But here, again, I reach to you,
with another piece of heart in hand,
Hoping I won't lose it to
another clumsy, careless man.
The truth is, I can barely stand
to be near you, but I cannot leave,
I only hope for some reprieve from
unrequietedness. I'm still naive.
I still believe there's hope for me,
for now, I place that faith in you,
the steel blue stare I cannot bear,
I cannot bare my love for you.
I only hope that you will find
something in me no other's seen
And save me from this viscious cycle,
of wanting what will never be.
A Bad HabitYou are the smoke that fills my lungs,
the nicotine that speeds my heart,
and calms me when I am frazzled.
One day, I was dazzled by
the blue in your eyes,
like the tip of a lit cigarette,
burning you to my memory,
and the addiction began.
Now, I crave you,
I am enslaved by you,
and, without a clue, you
drift away, like smoke.
Writing on the WallMost days, there is only you, and I,
and the wall that separates us.
I'd like to tear it down,
to pull you in, and fill Our space with
There were days, before the freeze
that I found warmth in your arms,
and we spoke with ease
but they have passed, and now
there is mostly silence
or small talk to pass the time.
You brought me into your world once.
I felt like I belonged,
like your songs were mine and
I already knew their words.
Days later, I sang them for you,
but you didn't seem to recognize the tunes.
I see myself in you-
but I fear you'll never see yourself
If there is "meant to be,"
I thought this is what it would feel like:
A name that leapt from a page
and etched itself to memory-
An unknown face, familiar as my own.
A heartbeat that now seems to never still.
And still, there is the wall
once filled with you- now empty
as the girl who loves you silently,
just on the other side.
I Forget MyselfIt's too easy to forget I am not desirable
when men smile at me and tell me I'm
pretty and funny and smart.
When they look me in my eyes, I lose my heart,
and feel as that maybe, just this once,
they saw something else. Something besides.
But I know that those are lies, and I'm a fool
for not minding my heart a little better,
wearing it a little closer to the vest.
And that's how I get myself into these messes,
where I am all tears and longing and
wanting and knowing that I should've known better.
But somewhere, beneath these layers of flesh,
hope still flutters up into my chest,
and sometimes, makes its way out, and I believe,
just for a moment, that there is someone
who can love me in spite of it all.
Then it's gone, and I am the quivering blob again,
afraid to meet their eyes for fear that
they will see and laugh in pity.
At what point does hope die?
At what point does one become hardened enough
to realize that people are what they are
and beauty isn't in the eye of the beholder, af
I Can Give You LessI am a tragedy, really.
I love with all my being,
and there’s so much of it.
The laws of gravity indicate that
large objects have a pull-
things should gravitate toward me.
But I defy those laws,
you (and all of them) are repelled by me.
Somehow, being the largest thing
in the room makes me
easy to miss, easy to dismiss.
I am not fit for you,
or anyone. I am an earth
with no sun.
I am not enough for you
Too much for you,
and in all my longing,
I am just a joke to you.
I spoke to you with my eyes,
but you were busy
orbiting some stardust,
meanwhile, I am just
Lackluster. I trust you
can't have missed me:
But if you could see me,
You never let me know.
I would give my all for you,
I must confess,
But if, my dear, it pleases you,
I will try to give you less.
Look not with thine eyesI have never loved with my eyes,
my sight has failed me one too many times,
And I declare, the day we met, they did not
see yet how I would come to love you.
It took the sound of your laughter,
the freckled constellation I could count forever after,
dancing gently on the ripple of your arms,
muscled though they're not.
(but enough to send me shivering, with want.)
It took me by surprise to see your hundred smiles,
and realize what some part of me already knew-
I was destined to take leave of all my senses the moment
I laid eyes on you, and smiled and said "Not this time."
These eyes have lied again, They're not designed to
control a heart or make up a mind. And now that I am thus resigned
I can only hope that your eyes, my dear, are just as blind.
KirigamiThose were more than paper dolls.
Their shapes were like shadows,
and I could feel every scissor slash.
I watched you with her, later.
There were shreds of paper beneath my feet,
and I wanted only to cut myself away.
I don't belong there, I well know.
Though lately, I've wanted to,
It's clear that I must go.
They say that I am crafty,
But judging by your laughter,
I'd say it's her hands you are putty in.
And I am just some starving artist
Cutting out a paper heart,
and then ripping it apart again.
You see only "Her" as art,
and you will covet that,
as I do- from afar.
But being artless, I confess
that you're far too near to suit me,
The Death BedIt's a curious thing- a memory foam bed.
Will it still remember me when I am dead?
Will my shape haunt this mattress-
the arch of my back become the curve
that you caress when you miss me most?
Will my ghost tangle itself in bed sheets,
and instead of roaming restlessly,
remember only where it sleeps,
And if you weep, would it feel the tears?
Would it recall the years we spent here?
If I could, I'd offer you my feather pillow,
And wrap you up in blankets
if you promised not to cry
as you remember how we shared our nights:
Turning off the lights and kissing our days away.
If bodily I cannot stay,
Then let me rest in our duvet,
And pray for you to feel me there,
or smell my perfume in the air,
Though I were gone, I'd still be near
and fondly should recall this bed
bought the day before we wed
Where you lay me, and our heads now lie-
if I should lay me down to die.
Blue Eyed BoysThere are blue eyes again-
They always are- the ones that
tear into me, leaving scars
in places I cannot show:
Kissed by burning flames of desire.
I dare not dream that
fire is meant for me, but
some foolish part of me fans
a tiny ember of hope.
My heart has bigger plans than
it will ever realize,
and your eyes are just the kind
to keep that notion alive.
The feel of hot skin
against mine, and normally,
I am inclined †to shrink away-
pretend it means nothing,
But I must say,
I could not tear myself
from the warmth
of you pressed into me-
Is it meant to be?
That's no mystery to me-
A great beauty (I'm sure you see) I am not.
I shouldn't give a second thought to
you with me, but then I see
those eyes, those painfully blue eyes.
when you find yourself
in a crowd of familiar faces,
the struggle for breath
You Will PayI can taste the fear upon you:
The cold sweat in your palms,
The eyes that dart at shadows,
And the lips that are forced into a tightened smile.
You wait beneath the blankets,
Shivering each night as the anxiety rises.
You gasp at the slightest sounds and quiver...
For you are afraid of the curse that comes.
In your mind you see what you have done to me.
You watched as you ripped my tongue
And stole the very voice from my soul!
But even if I am without a body,
Even if I can no longer hold a knife to your throat.
Fear alone is enough for me to silence you,
And I will NEVER allow you to be heard!
Inner DemonI harbour a monster,
It lingers deep within.
It wants to escape me,
To tear free from my skin.
It gnaws at my insides,
And hopes that I'll give in.
It works hard to tempt me,
To lead me into sin.
It wants me to suffer
To feel its wretched sting.
But I stand true and strong,
I will not let it win.
The nights are the hardest,
In bed I pray and sing
To the Lord God above
To rid me of this thing.
But instead it remains,
My monster still within.
MazeLost within myself
Looking for a way out
This cannot end like this
Trapped in my own mind
A maze with no exit
I keep running and running
But I always end up
In the same place where I began
RustThe dwelling rust
swells this hollow garden
and somewhere in the yard
a tire swing goes flat
against the skyline.
It chokes the autumn light
in the silo,
the crush of
mums and ragged berries
It bubbles in the percolator
steeping still life
in the caul
of early morning -
the red-brown crumbs
of breakfast toast and jam
growing ghosts upon
And deep inside
I still hear you waking up
the soft salute
of morning voices
stirring the wind
outside my window.
Slaves of the deadSlaves of the dead
to find another land,
but they couldn't stand the desert and the frost.
Some died, some returned.
For those who returned
the masters had prepared a special punishment.
Their memory was wiped off.
They became thieves,
without ever understanding why.
They just felt it was the right thing to do.
Red Light ReduxHaving a truck
Paint me red
Is the strangest feeling
I’ve ever felt.
I’ve seen myself melt away
Like a mid-summer’s ice cream
While my personality screams
To be noticed. Every wall that once
Stood between me and reality
I am finally free.
Until they strapped me down
And sewed back my hands to my head.
My heart to my mouth.
My legs to the earth.
The taste of freedom
Rests gently on my tongue,
And I’ve been trying
To no avail.
The child is grownHair parted in the middle,
The pigtails fell lose
Some time ago.
Can't say I'm sorry
To have traded the jumper
For a pair of fading jeans.
Some things I miss, though:
My mother's careful hands
working through the tangled
mess of curls,
clothes neatly pressed and starched
skillful fingers making perfect bows
of the ked laces.
Some mornings the only thing that keeps me going
is that one instruction:
"Make a loop, over and through."
The hair I've left to its own devices,
clothes haven't seen an iron in years.
I don't always sit with my legs together
or keep my elbows off the table
but one thing I got right:
Lose ends always need tying.
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More