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cadencesnothing more than a streak of charm and freckles,
it was your legs that ultimately lured me-
that skirt was an unwise decision.
the listless abyss couldn't reject you although its
effort was valiant,
who could deny?
so you laughed and pleaded as you were twirled and hurled
conceivably there was no end.
arms en bas, not even fully en pointe
i saw your technique and had to intervene.
arriving in time as your interim savior,
i stopped your reluctant dance with a grip of your hips;
a breath and you were terrified,
a touch and you were sated.
with a pretense towards chastity, with wanton glances
you let me pull you in, i let you fall within
the undertow of my affection, your delectable skin
and no way out.
i laced your shoes tighter.
afflictionyou, in your self imposed blindness
accuse me of leaving a scar on the world but
scars are for leaving on myself.
(and you, with any luck)
this is not what i want.
(in the crossfire)
i want the mark
of my creation to remain fresh, a
flesh wound that
with no regard to time still
catches when you breathe
(even with your emphysema)
i want to pull the world's ribs open like a gore-embellished vest and watch
the crimson handkerchief wash over the dangling tendrils and ivory cufflinks
hear the world's last gurgles as my inflictive blade severs
its vocal cords and doesn't stop there
(it's never enough)
you will remember.
it will leave deep marks in your weak aorta
(sorry if it kills you first)
and you'll remember it every hospital visit
and when you give in and buy the medicine.
(no i'm not)
rejoice in my hatred
(you'll thank me later)
survive on my bile
(see me when you suffer)
hate me enough to validate us both.
wallow in your penance, clutch with your ragged fingernails
(agonize over your
I locked my heart in a mahogany box and threw away the key.
There was no one to care for - there was nothing left for me.
My heart had ceased beating long ago
after years of misery and pain.
Through countless highs and lecherous lows
I became immune to pounding rain.
I walked without even my shadow as a friend.
Numb to all emotions that surfaced to my skin.
Knowing I would be alone to the bitter end
suffering the consequences of sin.
I was shunned and shamed -
bruised and maimed.
No one cared - no one knew.
No one bothered to change my view.
My life was a silent movie
of a language no one spoke.
With plenty of plot holes for all to see
and an ending of mirrors and smoke.
It was getting hard to catch my breath.
Surely death would be oh so sweet.
Addicted to the thought like Crystal Meth,
it skipped through my head like an erratic beat.
She stumbled upon a key that washed up on the shore.
Wondering what it could unlock.
Determined to solve the riddle and explor
RoseThe greatest romance
Lies in your deep crimson color
Your many petals
Softer than skin
Your sharp thorns
Cause me to bleed
My love for you is infinite
The pain you cause me
Is a pleasure
You may be just a flower
But your beauty
Knows no rival
You AreI am the moon,
And you are the sun,
I pale in comparison to you.
I am a student,
And you are a professor.
I cant keep up with you.
I am a snowflake,
And you are a blizzard,
I will never be like you.
I am a tree,
And you are a fire,
You can destroy me easily.
I am a star,
And you are the universe.
You are simply my everything.
Locks of LoveI haven't cut my hair
Since just before
I walked across the stage
Sixteen months ago.
I grew it out
Because, last summer, you loved
To run your fingers
Through its coppery threads.
That always made me feel
When you left for school again in August,
I couldn't bring myself
To get a haircut.
What if you came back,
And this time, my heart was ready for you?
Mid-semester, you told me that,
While you and your friends
Built your school's bonfire,
It was customary
That no one cut his hair
Or even shaved
Until the structure was finished.
I don't think I told you
That I let mine continue to grow
In your honor, except
I didn't cut it on Burn Day.
When we kissed on Christmas Eve,
You weaved your fingers
Through my silken locks
And made me feel beautiful once more.
I still didn't cut my hair,
Even after you left in March,
Save for the split ends
I trimmed in May,
Hoping to eradicate negative energy
But not wanting to let go of you.
Now it's September.
I shrug into Harry's shirt
underneath my autumn scarf--
cologne on the cuffs bringing
color as I close my eyes,
the brown of his hair,
laughter, pine green.
Fingers on marbled buttons
smooth as the cream
he puts in his chai.
I think of him like rain on a Sunday,
a slow breath uttered in calm,
eyes shut to listen,
he is peace,
stability in grayer moments.
He is the space in my empty bed
I ache for him the way
I crave prayer and
the feel of a rosary.
Epiphanyhearken when healing
from the hurt of love hamstrung
the hander of the handkerchief
may be your heart’s hope
If I Were A Love PoetFor my Laban. For my love.
Sometimes, often enough
when my thoughts are consumed
with you- I find myself wishing
that I was a love poet.
Wouldn’t it be beautiful
to piece words together so artistically
that I could make people understand
what it’s like to miss hands
that have never held me?
Wouldn’t it be the damnedest thing,
if I could make a stranger
know how it feels to kiss you?
Sweetly, passionately, softly
Hesitantly- and yet all at once?
Even though their lips have never met yours,
Even though our lips have never met.
How lovely would it be
to sanely, yet romantically
explain to my parents what it’s like
to fall asleep with you?
We could tell them how you giggle when I beg you
to be the big spoon- because I feel like it’s to much responsibility.
We could tell them about the sleepy kisses you give me
at 3 a.m when you find me searching for
To Love a HedgehogI
A hedgehog in the winter,
straw against the wind.
While the heart is warm
its feet are cold.
A hedgehog all alone,
his heart is full of love,
overflowing like sun with warmth,
in the blistering cold.
But to love a hedgehog
is a task for none.
As his love is felt
through the tips of spines.
One day a fox came by
underneath her failing fur
there was hidden heart of gold.
Warm and kind - despite the cold.
“Little hedgehog”, said the fox,
“you straw against the wind
why are you alone
in this uncaring cold?”
“Dear fox” replied our little friend
“My heart is warm
with dreams of love
I don't feel the cold.”
“But little one! What is love
without a friend?
My fur is scant and failing,
but it's warmer than the snow!”
“Go away... my love is pain
felt through the tips of spines
drawing blood; precious warmth
red against the silent snow.”
“But love is pain...
the pain we share together”
and thus they cuddled
togetherburningi love him and it seems like
we are all coming together
in this wide
him all lanky arms and
open spaces – electric skin – power
line veins catch
ing fire against
the golden grass
lim b s
arms spreading some
big togetherburning sky-bridge
him and me and
Some kind of frightful skinandblush
how i love him, how, i
how i love the cacophony
of our time
death of a breathif i document that which tandem existed
(it only ever was when i willed it to be)
does it fulfill my end of Shylock's bargain
with neither pint nor pinprick to go to waste?
mistress of the sleight of hand,
she seeks a remnant to manipulate.
if she wanted, she could take my cataclysms
(gloss over my scrapes with paint opaque)
and make with them something gratifying, satisfying
something else electrifying
marigolds with severed xylems sent in cases to the dying-
if she wanted.
her decision twirls until the lights
she's vacancy and i'm uninviting-
we talk about ugly things.
birthmarks and the uncensored human condition,
the scar on my upper lip and spines of dead foxes.
i tell her those are the reason i write.
she laughs her disdain
and kisses a bruise on my shoulder,
a perfect mimicry of her begonias.
she pauses to caution me
that aging is heinous and angels can fly
but then the stage is set and her eyelashes
i was to beset her- what's the use?
she was nothing but
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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