|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
I'll Go Out With A BangI find myself beginning once again.
So far from an elusive end.
My consistent sigh of breath, I detest.
My constant need to inhale and exhale, I repress.
But still I find myself trying to impress.
And I'm still trying to do what's right without seeming suppressed.
But to you, what I'm fighting for, isn't even worth the fight.
And this bending and winding,
With no assurance of an end.
No reassurance to possibly again begin!
Failing is not an option I was given!
You made that crystal when I first began.
This needed perfection.
The weight of the sky.
The air so dense.
The world spinning on top of my shoulders.
I loathe it all.
Then my chest rises into a suppressed dying fall.
Oh! I hate my lungs!
They will not stop moving within.
I feel each of their poundings against my rib and skin.
And then I decided, I shall be an arsonist!
I will coax the flames to get some kind of pleasure.
I need some type of satisfaction!
A thrill I never before had the privilege to ex
PariahThen being alone proved to be more compamy than being with them. And in some weird way you felt at home by being away. And the light seemed dark, especially within the day. And the night seemed also too dark and became a scary place. All because you were once afraid that sinners became saints for their lives became blank and as white as a cotton slate. And somehow you did not belong to this world. You became an alien race, tainted and warped in your alien face! You became a stranger to your friends; their words became putrid laced. They decorated your mind along with every foul thought they would make. And how your heart became at stake of ever getting staked. But the wood they would use, of course, was of a nasty taste. So you ran. You ran and ran coming up on a new place. And the heart never again vulnerable became a heart now saved. And soul
EsyliumI once found myself fabricating,
All alone and separate, simply thinking.
And with my every part hesitating,
I found myself recreating,
And all around imitating,
I guess you could call it replicating,
For my thoughts were well breathing.
My inhaling and exhaling orchestrating,
Every breath lively illustrating,
Never once adulterating,
It all was so exasperating,
All of this make-believing.
But still I kept elaborating,
My very thoughts exaggerating,
My whole self reverberating,
My mind kept impersonating,
But I held to my thoughts rapturing.
In turn, made you more infatuating,
And, in my mind, illumiating,
And I never ceased creating,
GreyAll I remember is grey.
The long faded grey road.
To our right, through smoky eyes I saw.
The small slated rocks that mimicked small grey mountains.
The threatening grey clouds clinging low in the dusky sky,
Practically making it an ashen fog.
That favorite grey shirt that he wore,
Which smelled of cologne and rainy, grey wind.
The silver truck that could not stop.
Yeah, I can not remember anything other than grey.
DyingBefore I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe.
Before my hearts stops all blood, let it beat.
For I became lost some time ago,
When at first I wandered and found myself alone.
To this day, I lay in my coffin of weeds.
Still silent and waiting for you to see me,
And if you happen to come across,
My body on this ground once bare,
Perhaps you'll think me lost;
But if you stopped to stare,
You'll seem to find my chest still fighting to rise.
Barely clinging to breath so you can watch it die.
Young LoveI was so young
when I first heard
the beats of my heart
pulse lightly upon my ribcage
My toothpick bones,
to the powerful palpitations
And I was still young
when I heard again
the throbs of my heart
pound forcefully upon my ribcage
My metal bar bones,
to the butterfly-wing beats
So you better hurry, boy
as my ribs are becoming
thick as steel
and you’ll soon need a metal cutter
to reach my heart
(And I don’t want to become damaged in the process of being loved).
how to love a girl who can't love herself.get lost under the sun, then
fight the break of dawn.
i am nothing in the dark,
so show me
walk with me,
to the secret place
where i met you
(those turquoise city dreams)
when the sun goes down,
when the moon shines,
(girl of the ocean, let's go
somewhere only we know.)
please, i beg you.
winter me gently, because the earth laughs in flowers, and
red red roses, they're so beautifully
from the back of my throat, i promisethe world is made of talking trees and cloudy water,
and the way you look at me
i'm no artist but i think i've painted your voice at the base of my neck
it's not something you can come back from
and tomorrow won't be a victory any more than it will be a loss
they don't make maps for a place like thisI'm stuck somewhere
between great rollings hills
and a sweet-calm sea,
but the air doesn't smell
of salt or dandelions.
Only this heavy
cloying breeze that sticks
in my throat and fills
my lungs with the sharp tang
of musk and pine
reminds me that I'm
not far from home. And
in the distance there
is a rolling clamor;
a whistle crying long and low.
But there are no signs,
Though I've wandered days
through this strange
traipsing across smooth plains
and sharp plateaus, I've
never crossed the
same path twice...
One thought rings true in
this foreign land:
dear, don't be alarmed
I only lose my bearings so thoroughly,
only become so
What Shall He Be?Oh what shall he be - the one to steal my heart?
Many a man is there in this vast world,
But what sort should I desire?
My sisters have oft said to see him in my thoughts.
To know him there and appease my dreams.
I am slow to act, for what reality could compare to a woman's dream?
But, alas, I do believe
That even I find myself dreaming of him now and again.
And so you ask, what sort of man is he?
Well listen close, for here I shall tell of what sort he would be:
He should be tall and graceful, elegant and fair;
With sweet golden locks of his curly hair.
And have blue eyes that sparkle in the light
Of the sun, bright, as does his smile shine.
His tender words and gentle touch
Would so sooth my heart and troubled mind.
His strong arms would hold me fast in the darkest nights
And chase away my fears 'til dawn.
His sweet lips would kiss me tenderly, lovingly just so.
He would have a heart of pure gold, and be loyal and good.
And looking into his eyes, he would see my soul
And I, giving my
to hell with goodwill (que sera sera)his tale-weaving tongue
tastes of crisp linen
drenched in bergamot
locked in by lips
of brown sugar that bubble
a blueberry melody
on his siren songs
drunken on an unearthly state
i drown my earl grey eyes
refusing to abandon the atrocity
that is his bedspread
his vesuvius temper
keep me on the verge of tears
on the ledge of limitations
i know all too well
i can never repel his touch
his gaze glazes over my beehive body
and i break open
raw and wild
sucking on the saccharine serendipity
of seeing this scene
in some long lost dream
his lambent limbs
though scathingly swollen
spread far and wide
such is my
i am peeled
past my quivering
he polishes and pencils
past my profanities
his life oeuvre is
to have me obliterated
come what may
the desolation of this delusion
will one day leave me
to inferno with goodw
Sleeping VolcanoWhen you kiss me
thousand little needles
pierce my skin
delight and pain
both burning calmly
like sleeping volcano
slowly consumed by
heat and fire
and I bleed
poison and nectar
embraced by your need
and even if
we grow distant and old
fire burns out and lava turns to stone
my blood keeps
screaming for your lips
I won't forgetI will always remember
you quietly waiting in the corridors
and opening doors for me to pass through
you drifting in and out of office spaces
and as we walked with matching paces
your smile would quietly etch itself into my memories
of what we were when we were not together.
I will always remember the feelings I wanted to forget
as I walked the limits of darkness every night,
my loneliness like a silhouette
that knew no respite
from the resounding cries
of the kookaburras in the trees
weeping for the heart that wanted to be free
to be with the you
who could not be with me.
I will always remember the voice inside my head
uttering a love that could not be said
across the oceans and the miles
that stretched like a chasm before us
but it was never a distance we did not surmount--
each night a transgression of space and time,
a compression of our imaginations and our minds.
I will never forget these slivers of a past
that used to haunt us with the pain of our non-existence
in a reality we'd
YouWhen every breath brings a memory,
I begin to dread to breathe.
And in pure haste, I silence my lungs,
Or at least I try.
And every thoughts brings about your face,
The look I have seen a thousand times.
(Even in my reasoning, I cannot deny you.)
I ordain myself to stop.
Or at least in contempt, I attempt.
And damn the night.!
I loathe its darkness.
But more the suffocating dreams...
Because of you I am unable to endure any sleep,
Nor the thoughts that pre-exist.
No; to hell with reminisces of you.
No longer will I let myself commemorate history.
Lovely once? But lovely in perpetuum!
Our once evermore infinitiveness,
Oh, it has turned into almost happenstances.
Keep in Touch!
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