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UnhiddenArms overturned, inside-up,
blue veins all showing
Against my tanned skin,
my forearm is almost
a shock of white.
Like that small dollop of cream
on a macchiato
you stir in
with the rest of your coffee,
I too, tried to make this paleness
more like the rest of my painted,
I left it to roast in this painful sun,
hoping the skin would darken, harden,
hide the veins on my wrist
so that no one could follow
these secret threads
running so deep
they measure time by
desires my heart floods my body with.
it is a secret in plain sight.
And under these clothes
are places I know,
and only I know
how I am
blue veins all showing
up and down the length
And how this part of me
kept tucked by my side
so hidden, and
once so different
has more in common
with the rest of
than these parts that show.
It is time,
you understand as I do,
that this part of me
drumming upit is almost 3am
when my heart pumps louder
than when i first realised that
i loved you too.
i cannot decide for myself
whether these are signs of a
or if death has come
knocking once more.
a growing girlwhat do people know of my sadness
when they are intent on claiming that they have it worse
what do people know of my pursuit of happiness
when they are convinced i am out to forget them
what do people know of my new worlds
when they are preoccupied with never leaving the old
what do people know of my love for them
when they are starstruck gazing at my love for others?
what do people know of the way i grow
when they choose not to grow with me?
what do people know of me
when they believe i am not enough of what they want me to be?
this one is nothingi return home
to listen to that familiar creak of our door
no longer attached like clockwork
to your hand wiping sleep from your eyes.
tonight i find:
one cup left on the shelf by the door,
your hurried breakfast before a busy day
one damp towel by the shower,
your quick rinse,
a harried attempt
to shed yourself
and one ring left
by the table
on your side
of the bed
i lift it,
a clean partition of air
cleaving off empty space,
i’ve claimed as my own
a promise so valuable
it’s measured by digits
both paid for
and wearing it
a promise so promising
to force ourselves
into its bind,
a bind that proved to be
that you yearned
to breathe again
try to separate
promise from digit
to give me the space
in the slow
of when we stopped
living as one
and how long it took
to leave the other
Spoilt for choiceI learnt her name listening to you breathe while you sleep.
I held it in my hands, trying to create
the face that tried to erase you. You intently hold on
to every feeling,
lost love, memory.
The pain you choose to feel daily
so that one day you could tell your whole life,
as she is sitting in front of you,
that she will never be complete
and never complete you.
beneath the harvest(ed)
in pleasing arrangements-
to be laid
upon the flowerbed
Mother NatureThere is a soul,
That seems to flow,
Beneath the gold,
Of the suns glow.
It flows within,
It floats within,
You feel its breath,
In the wind,
You feel its death,
With every sin.
It does not think,
It does not hate,
It only loves,
It doesn’t berate.
And her breath,
We have a peaceful death
Cigarettes and AutumnsAll these cigarettes and autumns are piling up
on me. Dead leaf at dusk from a
hoary apple tree.
Eden's falling with each
tick of the tock, measured by periodic
fingers counting down an imaginary clock.
I can nearly see the golden leaves
dancing on the breeze while the
incense smell of burning fronds
waft tenaciously through the trees.
It's a good time to be alive.
Soon enough the frost on the window's
going to hide the impending
autumn happening outside.
So presently I'm exhaling stale smoke
on the window, lamenting summer's
passing with a clear view
of each hue of a burning bush,
of each push towards doom
already intent on being reborn.
Fascinated by the symmetry.
Fascinated by the symmetry.
SeptemberThe page hasn't turned
The sun tilts on the edge
Before it falls
You have caught it already
Trees with a hesitant shudder
Shake leaves that aren't ready to die
The breath passes
But when you look up
The clouds are pulling back
They have smelled it
They are leaving the thick air
Near the ground
To escape it
But you have to stay
And when you feel it again
There will be frost
Autumn Fire (Change of Season) I feel the change of season
this autumn fire
the nights getting longer
the impending darkness
this cold breath down my neck.
But I am aflame and
burning with passsion
to a degree that it
almost consumes me.
Memories and dreams
the future and the past
they are merging
in a round-dance of autumn leaves
in the yellow light of street lamps
or in the dim grayness of
one drizzly September day.
I am day dreaming
and the world around me becomes
like the surface of a pond
into which I dip my finger
and suddenly the whole picture
starts to ripple and disperse
and the voices of people talking to me are muted
and I hear something else.
The veil is thinni
Last Days of AutumnDays grow shorter, the air more chill and crisp
Sweaters will be replaced with coats in a matter of days
Awaiting the final leaf of autumn to fall
Cool breezes shift gears into frigid winds
Gray clouds blanket the once blue sky
The sun hiding its shy face behind the the dyed cotton puffs
Rakes and leaf blowers emerge from hibernation in their garage dens
Wildlife gather the last of their food for a three-month slumber
Soon rain will be substituted with snow
As the last days of autumn come and go
Opening welcome arms for Christmas, for school holidays, for New Year's
Bidding farewell to autumn and good day to winter
DesolatePicture this: a desolate land
Of crumbling rocks and dreary sand
Hidden under the heavy mists
That neither wind nor sunlight lifts
The bare, dying trees twist and writhe
As, in efforts made vain, they strive
To reach the light of darkened day
In shadow that does not decay
Barren cliffs of earth and stones
Rise up like jagged broken bones
And eerily throw back the sound
Of water falling underground
A land of memories no more
With broken dreams wrecked on the shore
The ghosts of hope stare towards the sea
Where mockeries of love roam free.
Simple FeelingsAs I walk out of the house to only get the mail my bare feet touch the warm concrete. When I swing the key around my finger the metal clinks on the ring it’s tied to. The warmth of the earth creeps up my legs; I had an urge to fall because the feeling was so soothing, like I was being showered in warm silk. With each step I took, the more of my problems drifted away; the landing of a foot pushed any remaining strain out. It seemed as if I wasn't walking anymore, but floating to my destination. I look to the fading sky and glowing clouds to only have them cleanse my mind. I float my way past where I was supposed to go, and dropped the key. I felt like I wasn't myself because everything else was at peace. At that moment…everything seemed right.
where has the light gone?once
the moon lived on earth
till she gathered her things
and left for the sky
her back to the earth
she was whole again
but they asked
where has the light gone?
with a smile
she turns to face them
rises and waits
no one comes.
sinks slowly towards them again
as close as possible
but still no one even glances
for no one
till she slowly turns away
withdraws into herself again
and they ask,
where has the light 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