|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
WaterSometimes I wish I could live in water
When I swim
I escape from the world
The voices muffled
My troubles and worries melt away
Away from reality
Like a blurry dream
Stopping only to catch a breath
I love the way water flows with my body
The shimmer of light reflecting off the water
It's a whole new perspective
We Are Like PaperWe are born like a crisp clean sheet of paper
After time, without care, imperfections will form
Like stains that will never come off
Creases that resemble problems
We try to smooth them out, but they are there forever
The more care we take of our sheet of paper
The less chance something will happen to it
Should we not treat ourselves like that?
The Battle of the OkWe all say we are ok
It's never the truth
We want to say a million things on our mind
Instead, a pathetic, small ok suffices
We fight an inner battle
Often, defeat takes us
When are we really ever ok?
I would like to thank the person who can win the crusade
And ask him
How do you do it?
CheatingHow could I be so naive
All of your stupid lies
All the nights you've been late
The smell of cheap perfume on your collar
Scarlet red lipstick on your neck
How could you do that me
One night is forgivable
Who is she?
Please at least tell me you have some class
At least it's not some hooker in front of a crappy motel 6 right?
Those years we spent together
Time wasted now
When things went wrong
We could've gotten help
You didn't have to sneak behind my back
Now we are over
Any last words?
I whip out my shotgun and blow his head off.
I think I will enjoy some coffee now.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
Keep in Touch!
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