Deviant Login Shop  Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour
×

More from deviantART



Details

Submitted on
December 21, 2012
Link
Thumb

Stats

Views
728
Favourites
2 (who?)
Comments
3
×
Some things were meant to be spoken out loud.





Second Shadow Second Shadow
Why are you always stalking me
Mocking me
Telling me what to say
Telling me not to stay
Whispering thoughts into my mind
Making me take one step forward
And two steps behind
I see you sitting there
Watching me
Not caring about what I have to say
Always just launching me into the fray
I see you pulling the strings
You like fucking with my head
You make me wish that I was dead
But, no
I'll fight back
I stave off your attack
Because I need to be free
I need to be me
I'll cut your strings
I'll silence your voice
Give me back my choice
You've corrupted my mind for far too long
I'll send you back to the shadows
Where you belong
Where you can't hurt me
But I know you'll find a way
Every time I make you disappear
I know in the shadows of my mind you're still near
But I'll be ready
I'll hold steady
So give me your best shot
I'll throw it back again without a second thought



Something Scorching, Something Smallerthe universe lines up her billiards
but i'm going to thieve the blue one
jump the felt
and make for the wide open floor
when we broke our yoke
it wasn't fire we stole
but something scorching, something smaller
i hid it in a key and forgot the green place it came from
let it drift out to sea
while i collected diamonds from the sky
dew from the lips of lizards
and suns from the earth's center
but the pebble stirred to waking
resounding the heavens and echoing through hell
deafening as a gong with only a vibration
medusa could identify
levinbolts spark and char, cracking my skin
thunder shaking my writhing hair to bits
wrap tight the chameleon skin
clutch the caduceus and snag the sandals:
         it's time to      -go-
my country swallowed by the sea
soul eclipsed
i have forgotten my names
there is only: leviathan



Love is SuicideWell it is. 
If you truly think of what love is then it is indeed a form of suicide.It can also be associated to the kind of suicide that a person never comes back from. I realize this may be a little dark but just hear me out. With love either you or your "Partner" is giving up there lives, memories, emotions, and body to the person that they love. Kind of like giving a dog or cat as a gift. The receiver is expected to nurture and care for this "gift" that you gave to them out of this so called love for them. Now the reason on why it is suicide is a simple matter. Suicide is described as a person killing themselves for some specific reason.And in a way you have killed yourself so you can be with this person. You killed all of your past experiences, emotions, regrets, and pain to be replaced by new ones of love and happiness with another person. It is beautiful to some extent but it can also be the worst decision of your life. You are killing your past life to make a new life with


Studying AmourIn love, its never being at the winner's end if you're adored more than you adore.
Rather, to be the victor in love, both must overflow with so much yearning, they know not what to do or how to express it.
After all, amour is never about a conqueror and its conquest, it is about two beings being conquered by such unquestionable passion.



An Ode to Gurren Lagann!Go Go Go
Move Forward
Never Look Back
Drill your own path 
Create your own destiny
Giving up is never an option
Face the world head first and Live
Believe in the You that believes in Yourself
Be the drill that pierces the very heavens above
Become the Drill that Creates All of the heavens above
Use the drill to open a path for those behind you 
Fight for yourself and everyone else with you 
Believe in yourself and everyone else there
Become what always wanted to be today
Work to make your tomorrow, now
Your drill is your very own soul
You, need to be that drill
Believe, in yourself 
Sieze a destiny
,and take it
Go Go Go 



THAT POEM (Writer's Block)I sat down at my computer last Thursday night
with the full intention of writing THAT POEM. Oh, don't
play dumb. You know what THAT POEM is. We all know
what THAT POEM is. You with the cigarette train-tracks
charting your eternal drift to nowhere
on the insides of your arms, you
with the sludge of alcohol dripping thick & brown through
veins swollen & slow & pussy as zombies, you
with the eight children whose faces you can't remember
& the husband in the Hamptons whose name you sometimes forget
& the lover who never seems to come around as much as you pay him to – you
all know what THAT POEM
is. It's the rhythm beating a dull staccato in your skull
when you've taken something to take the edge off, the weary shadows sinking senseless
into the black-slung cradles hiding underneath your
bloodshot eyes. It's the weight of the gun & the way its metal feels
when you push it against the squelching skin of your skull – not to kill yourself, just to feel it,
to know you could. This wa
:iconsammur-amat:
Sammur-amat Featured By Owner Dec 21, 2012   General Artist
:heart: :heart: :heart:
Reply
:iconthelunalily:
TheLunaLily Featured By Owner Dec 24, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
:rose: :blowkiss: :rose:
Reply
:iconsammur-amat:
Sammur-amat Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2012   General Artist
:tighthug: <3<3<3
Reply
Add a Comment: