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truth or dare.i've always picked 'truth'
because i hate the idea of
unknown, yet to be uttered
directions, and no choice
but to follow.
do it or face
( and picking truth,
it's only too easy to lie.
a lie is just a 'truth' under disguise. )
i've always lived life
admiring the dress-up, masks,
never questioning the illusions,
believing labels, words, guides.
live by this
and get everything you want.
( and this is the ultimate
no matter how easy you find it to lie.
this is the truth, with no disguise. )
forkintheroad, wake up, dream
believe, let go, hold on, hurt, fall, crash
truth or dare.
how much of an answer
is a disguise,
how much of a dare
will i be punished for,
if happiness is an illusion,
and life is a test,
how many dreams,wishes,promises
do i need to kill
to not fail.
how hard do i need to fall,
to see past the lies.
kill me softly,
and show me the
and i'll be your canvas.you're a
volcanic eruption waiting to happen,
with soft, marble skin and
warm whispers that send shivers down my spine.
you're a blazing fireplace after a lonely winter
walk. a blanket around my heart and
a home, balanced on the edge of a cliff.
you're a thorn and a delicious poison, and my
favourite flavour of dreams and wishes
and promises, and
i want to
drink you all in, and etch your
face, eyes, words, soul
into my mind, heart, life.
i want to trace over each mark, spot
scar, everything and
carve it into my memory.
i want to steal just as much as
you've taken from me, and break
locks, crush masks, soak in secrets.
letting everything go, losing, hanging,
leaving doors open, and
cracked around the edges.
the skin of a realist, the eyes of a child, the mind of a
disaster, and the heart of a dreamer. you have
kisses made of rain, the fingers of a pianist,
the brush of a painter.
and i'll be your canvas.
i want you.i think i might have pushed myself a bit too hard today, because i'm seeing stars and darkness, and the light is too bright, and i'm writing this while
i am on the bed tapping away, pretending i know what i'm saying, and waiting and wanting to see, hear, and taste again, and i'm hungry, and thirsty, but i don't want food, or anything to drink except for
what i'm always wanting, was always wanting ever since that first time when i went why not? and tasted the sweet poison and
you said you'd eat me up
i'm still waiting, and it's cold, in the fridge.
glow} so bright it almost blinds you,
but, the warmth inside is what makes
the snow in your eyes all worthwhile.
sunshine} you make my heart smile
like sunflower-patterned fields of
yellow and green rain
dotting each little strand of hopeful
warm wishes, and young
shadows holding hands for the first time.
cherry} sweet, overflowing, stains
left on fresh, new-found innocence
like that of soft, spring rains,
and promises made as we are
showered with strawberry kisses.
ocean} inviting, and waves playfully
calling, come closer, closer,
closer, and it seems like
happiness is when drowning
in sweet open waters can feel like heaven.
dark} and the skies are littered with
memories of you tonight.
make a wish, and put it out there,
as another one of the stars.
and i wish i could store them
all} in rainbow-stained glass jars so
they would never die out, and just
to fill in the cracks and scars in her heart,
with scattered memories of why
she made her way down the rainbow
in the first place; and s
the sun sets
and i wait and i dream
and i think of you
and you only
and i'm not
i really am not
and i'm forgetting
nothing is ever satisfactory.
and, if i won't be satisfied,
a full refund.
(or at least, just a bit
of my heart back.)
but that won't happen
and the nostalgic smells
through the open windows,
and i'm imagining
(and time never co-operates)
i spend my days
eating watermelon words
and drenched in daydreams,
and i see the world
with blurred faces,
and every person i see
(it keeps me smiling)
tires screech outside and
i'm scared i won't have enough
time, but i need more
with you, because
i haven't had enough of
take my breath
and my soul and my everything away again,
i'm running out of
koishigaru.my eyesight is deteriorating
like stepped on leaves,
wet and crunched up
after heavy rain, and
the little girl who picked it up
and stored it in a jar,
on the television, and just a little far away,
can't be seen anymore,
because everything is a blur
and my eyes ache
because it misses the way they helped her see the world.
even though just the thought
of you calling my name,
and waiting for me to reply
just murders any appetite i had left,
i'm the one who's waiting now,
and i feel like i'll never stop and you'll never come and i
eat too much junk food
and my stomach aches
because the door is closed, and the right time is not yet,
and it misses the way the light breeze,
along with slight shallow breaths, and soft wavering touches
would send shivers down her spine.
open windows, and black curtains that don't fly
anymore and i refresh, and click, and call
and wait to hear
but i'm not refreshed,
and nothing's clicking right,
and i rarely ever called out your name,
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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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