[x]

Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
For you.

Dear fucked society,Dear fucked up society,
Why do you take our rights?
Our human rights?
To who we love?
To who we are.. To our image?
Tell me.

You force images down our throat;
Images of airbrushed, false looking
people. You want people to look
more skinny and cause anorexia,
More along the hidden line that
you dig under the ground like
a dead forgotten body yet always there

You show us that its not right to be gay,
lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered..
And then wonder why the suicide rate is
so fucking high. You cause the nightmares
and terrors of our family not accepting us
our

Telling Childhood Goodnight.They were the fearless whispers through the starless night.
They were the pounding feet through the cobbled streets,
Screaming out for everything.
They were the fleeting memories of a time long gone by,
Blown away in the wind to a far away sky,
Where the air is cold and the stars never shine.

Memories leave their traces behind,
The scars on my legs from a day long gone by.
I was climbing a rock,
That would forever leave me with a flaw.

They were the youthful cries, screaming out.
They were the glowing eyes, on a fearless march,
Racing down the cobbled streets, blazing out for all to see.
The beacon of light that is now dying out,
I never wanted it to go away.
Everything is changing at a speed I can’t match,
I am drifting further every day.

It makes me want to cry that the best and worst days of my life,
Are being pushed away with every day that passes by.
I want to hold on
But each day I lose more ground.
Soon they will be gone without even a sound.

Th

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

Silent and GoneAlong the blue streams of those who were simplistically glassed, I drag my wooden, empty coffin; it contains only my past.

For the many decades I've lengthened have expanded pain's time; across shallow mountains and beatings I prepare my final climb.

Through harsh mists and soft grasses the journey trembles on; days on end without my voices; alas, I realize they are gone.

Near all abandonment's shelter I rest without ease; my halved demon appears before me; she speaks hellishly in the breeze.

Forgiveness and hallucination she crisply burns in my eyes; I must awaken and continue, 'tis my time to remain wise.

To a judging stream near the g

I don't fight fair...Cut, bruised, scraped, forgotten. These things I have all been at least once in my life. But it
hasn't made me stronger, just more determined in my fight to live another day.
I know the ways of my attackers, studied their movements, learned their tricks and gleamed
their true motives. I have seen their weaknesses, their faults, theirs flaws and I have kept
them close to me, ready for use when the next time we meet.
They are cautious of me, they have weary from my adaptive ways, knowing that I can fall only
so many times. They are scared for I have the key to their defeat; not by sane ways, but by
the ways they fear to tread.
One look, one stare, one gesture and they will run in fear for the truth is upon them: "I won't
live restrained anymore."
"I have seen your errors an played on them like strings on a violin. Moved you to place were I
make the rules. Put you on display for all to see what you have done, and what will be done."

You ha

The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze

Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain

(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)

Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling

The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream

(To become whatever the second birth dictates)

the carbon footprint of an arsonistyour crystal promise
rings drip off your glacial
fingers into global

nothings. the geodesic
dome you used to live in
is a hell you keep

clean-shaven and concentric,
spiraling away from you,
wrapping your unborn

children up in paper goblets.
for minimum wage, any geryon
would cling to the terza rima

inkblots on your
collarbones, his spongy molars
diving into your right

angles, his familiar laughs
killing your skin with
shivering cuddles and you

shudder, being self-diagnosed
at center of the universe,
your hair a nest of radio

waves, the one cosmic
principle drumming on the ancient
heart of mystery.

but amateur porn always
made you cry

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn

Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school

Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory

weight of the worldand suddenly--
it was like the world decided that
it didn't want to carry its burden any longer,
so it shifted the weight
into the hollows of my bones
and told me that
it was my problem now.

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SnowA girl at home among the snow
Dances and spins
And makes the world twirl
And where her feet touch the ground
Fire erupts
Melting the ice
And breaking the chill
A girl with fire in her hands
Melts the world around her
Until the mountains are bare
And the snow turns to streams
Her dance doesn't notice
For in her mind
She is at home
In her place
Among the snow.

ClicheYou don't know my pain...
Oh great. How cliché.
Teenage drama. Procrastination.
It all gets in my way.
Suicide and cyanide.
I just have to run and hide.
Trapped in places with no sun.
"Too tired to fight and yet too scared to run."
I throw out my keys.
Hide my locks.
Shiver and die by the ticking clock.
My notebook is burning.
My games thrown away.
No where to turn, no way to stay.
Sweet blueberries gone,
Fire lights the way.
No where to turn.
Yet still no way to stay.
~Life's a bi*ch.~
I've had my say.

"'You want to go home and rethink your life~'"
'I want to go home and rethink my life~'"
"It goes without saying,"

Notebook Pages and Ripe Blueberries

I am from notebook pages, and girl scout cookies,
From ripe blueberries, and strawberry picking.
I am from the rainy days, and ice cold nights.
From the valentine bouquets, and the blue potted violets.
I am from Tennessee reunions and stubborn determination, from southerners, east New Yorkers and family vacations.
I am from the long forest hikes, and the tears I cry,
From a cold harsh world, and dreams of flying.
I am from an abandoned church, from a lost story in a fake belief,
From the rainy west, and harsh southeast, from saturday pizza and cheese enchiladas.
From the sandwich queen, the cross country skis, the humidity of Tenness

More Locks and More KeysI keep all my keys
And throw out the locks
Living in an illusion
Reality is real
Fantasy is not.
The one lock I found
Was the one key I lost
It will trap you there
Unable to break free
It will make reality the dream
The lost lock
Was me

Keys and Locks and DoorsI give keys everyday.
I hide them.
I hope someone finds them.
That's a lie.
It doesn't matter.
No one ever does.
I have it good.
I shouldn't complain.
This is all a lie.
All.
I scatter the keys.
Expose the locks.
Offer them up.
And, occasionally,
sometimes,
a key will be found,
a lock will be opened.
But when it is,
I shut the doors.
And hold them tight.
The keys are useless.
Why should they be found?
No one looks for them.
They never know they should.
They see an open door
A door
Which is actually
Shut tight.

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[x]

Can you feel the sunshine?

by =pinktwirlz, Apr 23, 2012, 9:09:40 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Can you feel the sunshine?
Can you feel it warm your skin?
Stand there and soak the sunrise,
It's a pool of light,
just dive in.
Can you feel the laughter?
Malicious or otherwise?
Can you feel the sunshine?
Just before you die?
Can you feel the waves of laughter
Soaking through your bones?
Dripping from your skin and teeth,
Don't you even know?
Can you sponge in all the happiness
Feel it in your core?
Yes, it feels nice, doesn't it.
Don't let it burn you sore!
Can you feel the light there burning
Don't let your skin catch fire!
It's a wonderful ray of sunshine!
Don't turn it into something dire!
Can you feel that gorgeous sunshine?
It fills up the entire blank space.
Go and face the sunrise,
If it runs,
give it chase.

Can you feel the sunshine?by =pinktwirlz

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

[link] For this contest.

Link to original song: [link]

Let me give you some backstory:

Can you feel the sunshine was a song originally released for the game Sonic R, a racing game released for the sega saturn. One of the characters in this game was the tails doll

Can you feel the sunshine is the theme of the Tails Doll.
Now, while the song has bright and cheery lyrics,
the tails doll is the EPITOME OF EVIL
all you have to do is search "tails doll" in the deviantart search box...it's a bloodthirsty demon out for revenge on our souls. :/

i don't know what started the myth but it's pretty damn funny xD
more info on tails doll here: [link]

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

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~iksaxophone Aug 13, 2012

Huh. No idea about the game, but the poem is meloncholy, poignant, and very original on its own. One of your best, in my opinion.

=pinktwirlz Aug 14, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!

I love your comments, they make me happy ^^ Reading this, I actually do like it a lot. I think it turned out nicely.

~winterkate Apr 23, 2012 Student Writer

I actually really like this. There's a sporadic rhyme that catches my eye.

=pinktwirlz Apr 23, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks!

I'm glad you like it!

~winterkate May 4, 2012 Student Writer

You're so very welcome!

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Can you feel the sunshine?

Can you feel the sunshine?by =pinktwirlz

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