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One Step CloserA tear is born, memories of what you put me through,
However, as the sky you make me blue,
I'm the shadow born from your light,
I'm the justification of your sight,
Standing, we lean on one another,
Having replaced, your father and my mother,
Under a blanket, together hiding, a warm cover,
Having replaced your sister and my brother,
There are times, because of you I cry,
I simply take a breath and again I try,
Confusion rises, you begin to shake,
Paths are seen, from one I must make,
A journey of one, a weakened patrol,
As your depression fights for control,
I open my arms, I prepare for the embrace,
I than hear silent anger, the lines on your face,
They dare to move, they await the impact,
I must run towards danger to keep you intact,
In this position I have been before,
Your standing behind a stable however transparent door,
In my hands I hold the key,
Her depression vs my maturity,
The key is placed in, the door I open,
A hug for my lover, she rejects more than the words spoken,
MeaninglessYour words are meaningless
Like leaves in the wind
They spin over my head
Always just out of reach
And though I try to grasp
The whispers of your mind
They slip through my fingers
Like water they have no shape
Just a river
The current so fast
It’s hard to hold on
To not be swept away
By the rush of empty promises
And your breath sighs
Bringing back memories
Of who we used to be
And what we used to do
The secrets that we shared
You speak no truth
Your words are meaningless
Blowing in the wind
Anxious.I retire from the crowd, feeling kinda strange.
This anxiety is drowning me, somethings gotta change.
I gotta get in my mind's soul and start to rearrange––
your confidence for my sadness, care for an exchange?
This loneliness has company,
Gaining on me subtly,
I'm handing out custody,
I'm left with nil––utterly.
I think about tomorrow; wasting my today.
Already feel broke, before I even gotta pay.
I hear what I wanna hear, not what you have to say.
Losing bits of self; as I try and make my way.
This stressing is messing––
maybe it's a blessing;
dressing up depressing.
Trying to fool me, as it's assessing––
keeping me on my toes daily; guessing.
I need a change, now
I want to be the cause of "wow"
Just give me a go; allow,
I'll be the answer to your "how".
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
WriterMy pen is my sword,
My words my shield.
I am a warrior,
These are the weapons I wield.
The blood I draw is fictional,
And so are the people I slay.
Wars are waged because of me,
I let the bodies fall where they may.
It seems as though I'm invincible,
That I simply can't be slain.
That's because the world is mine,
I bring the sadness, I make the rain.
Everything is under my control,
The people, the places, the things.
Buildings are mine to crumble,
People are puppets and I pull the strings.
To some I am a matchmaker,
I've made many a couples' love live.
But I can easily become a reaper,
And remove the pleasures I give.
I've driven many a man to insanity,
By slowly stealing his mind.
I draw lines of hatred,
And create ties that bind.
When my sword strikes the last word,
The world comes to a halt.
When immortalized on its pages,
In my victory I can exalt.
But inspiration shall strike again,
So have no fear.
I am a warrior of words,
And the next adventure is always near.
Rant News.The news is obviously here to keep us scared and manipulated. Letting us 'know' it's dangerous without the government and police on our 'side' to fight 'crime'. Of course what's omitted is the intense corruption within, which completely defeats the purpose, not to mention it reinforces an insidious version of crime into the picture that's harder to fight. One that's a lie conveniently categorised under 'truth and news', that tries to screw you when your backs turned and rots you from within whilst doing so. They show us what they want us to see, not the millions dying all over the world because of their 'regulations' and society's enforcements; instead they show the petty, fucking pathetic local crimes, that'll keep us on the look out when we leave our house, leading us onto the congo line of consumerism. I could go on forever, but the point to this rant was to highlight some other news. ––There are billions of us surviving daily, there are people standing up for their righ
Breaking news.The government makes status––
they ignore the real matters
they own the news
they confuse and abuse
making sure we're all scattered.
The law creates crime––
a social ladder we must climb
always the poor
stuck on the floor
as the privileged spend their time.
Society ignites fear––
blurring anything clear
as real life is nowhere near.
The system makes criminals––
while stealing the Earth's minerals
raising the price
feeding the vice
locking us away, for lacking principles.
The people are losing their souls––
giving up on their genuine goals
working nine to five
pretending they're alive
when they're completely under control.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
I am much moreI am so much more then faggot or freak, fatty, nobody, & creep. Useless, better off dead, loser, crybaby, burden, cutter. Rape deserving faker, weirdo, phasing homo, anorexic, crazy, dyke, ugly, never gunna find love, homeless, mess, I am much more then labels. I am a wounded warrior who is not a failed abortion. I deserve love & kindness & shelter from attacks of hate. I am much more then my scars, broken heart & torn childhood. I am a kind man who offers a hand. I am not a freak just limited edition. My shed tears are not a meaning of weakness. I have just been too strong to long. I am more than my assaults. They may have left me broken, alone, vulnerable, but I still made it through. I am much more then my gender identity, sexual orientation, appearance, & style. I am Blu
Whenwhen did we begin to look at trees
not as reaching branches to climb
but as a resource with a purpose
something to nickel and dime
when did the castles in our imaginations
become the lifeless four walls
of the cubicles that house the
mindless drones that wander empty halls
when did my fairy tale fantasies
stop enriching my mind
and begin to enclose me
and leave the child behind
and why did no one tell me
that growing up would look like this?
that one day I would gaze back
at the photos of everything I miss
InsanitySo let it go.
I can't be there the way you want me to.
Can't care, the way you told me to.
I have never quite been
And maybe I belong there.
In that box beneath your bed.
In that song stuck in your head.
In that memory you reach for, but never find.
In that subtle way you lose your mind.
I am always there,
In the end.
You don't always care,
Maybe I should go back
To my padded cell.
Maybe I shouldn't have left
My safety-proofed hell.
Everything is always the same
In pale painted halls.
Every day you wake alone.
Every night you fall.
But I suppose that's better
Than feeling nothing at all.
Even if you're lonely.
You don't need a call
I can stand the fighting.
I can take the lightning.
But I can't be the stronger.
And can't hold on much longer.
And maybe I should just get up.
Or maybe I'd be better off
I can't smile the way you would.
Can't live the way I should.
I want to let go.
Truth is, I was hurting long before you even knew I was gone.
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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