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My Thoughts Are Like BirdsMy thoughts are like birds;
precious in their cages, yet
forgotten when freed.
MortalityFrom ecstasy unto solitude,
My heart weeps with envy.
Through decaying emotion
I became human.
.though the words
well in my stomach and
bubble up in my throat and
spill onto my tongue
my lips shall never
let them drip into the world
.he comes to the crossroads,
silken voice carrying
eyes full and round as the
new moon promise creamy
"make a deal with me."
.they greet me like old friends,
ivory hands gripping my
shoulders a little too tight
to be forgiving
i tell them that i'm sorry,
and they know what i mean,
their smiles fade and the black
holes on their faces start to furrow
and i explain that it's not
quite time, not yet
i still haven't worked up the guts
to let them out
but they've heard this spiel before,
and it's getting harder to
silence the rattling, a myriad of
skulls and ribs that i can no longer
From a dreamWould it
the last robin
as the last
as the last
in your eyes...
Or would it
OuroborusShe swings in close to me,
With the warm, sweet scent of her shampoo,
Her lips trembling,
Her hands quivering,
I wonder if she's feeling scared
'Cus I know I sure do.
She leans into me,
And holds me tight,
And obviously so I do.
And sometimes we just sit there, solemnly
Watching the sky turn blue.
So why's it always turn out like this.
Separated by an infinite,
Why do you always leave when I try to stay,
Why do you chase me when I go away?
It's been a full 5 score and couple dozen weeks,
But we still don't trust each other,
We can barely stand to meet.
Just how many times are you going to do this,
Before we just call the whole thing quits.
'cus I can't stand it when I can't get near you.
But I just can't stand it when I can't just quit.
And we always act as if nothing's wrong.
Yet our smile's are crooked,
And our faces drawn.
Everyday we just put on a show,
But there's no meaning to it,
No moral, no flow.
Just half-assed greetings,
If we can manage not to choke.
--Our souls sigh...
and our hearts
human sight -
You can not
it is there
Oh River Lethe,
sing me to sleep!
Impart a sweet song
that is peaceful and deep...
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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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