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Bad Vibes AgainI've stood on the railings of bridges
Realizing all I had to do was take one more step to reach my LSD oblivion
And wished I had a pack of Marlbolo lights
That I was the victor instead of the victim
That I’d faded away to nothing but a voice
Instead of the numb needle point nymph with pin pricks in her fingertips
I’ve broken gin bottles at the head and gripped the flesh taut over my switch blade hips with hands that tremble with every pop of the camera bulb cocaine flashes dancing in my eyes
But I’ll never understand the psychology of the devil’s head as he slips pomegranate seeds through the parted lips of my fanged skull while sliding his hand up my skirt
Or the need to rub my hands up and down my thighs in nervous fits, scarring the land with the fire of the roses drenched in my skin
All I know is that I’ve got bad vibes but love is pain and my wrists can’t seem to get enough of it
SickSome thrive in ivory
But my wounds fester
A deep ebony as my
Head begins to quake
My vitals throb as our
Cracked lips dance
Dear god I'm so sick
You're My SinDon’t resist the flames
Tonight we gonna just
Dance dance in the pale
Moon fleshed shadow
Of the the devil’s kick drum
And while the night remains
Young, I’ll turn every nightmare
Into a drip of alcoholic condensation
Haunting the rim of your strawberry
Passion glass and Darling, I'll make
This night a scarlet smooth sin
ControlI have a heart of puppet strings
And you have a handful of sticks
Every blink of your eyes is the
Shake of your manipulation on
The smudged lines of my veins
Sticky FingersDown peach cobbled stones
The juice of delectable sun
Kissed bodies flows into our
Sweet, sweet apple pie lips
As we entwine our limbs in
Warm weathered dances that
Will make the dead sing tonight
In the town, sticky fingers find
Their way through tangled seas
Of hair and cayenne peppered skin
Kiss, kisses spot the bodies of those
In the sugared caress of rosy flesh
All the way down; for tonight, in this
Moment, we shall make love shine
Where is LoveCould it be possible to find
A smile of spread wings and
Lit candles swooning under a
Pregnant breeze; a gaze of storm
Torn waves entwining with the
The salty skin of sun spiced skin;
The tangled serenade of tapped
Melodies telling stories of sweet
Rapture; I’ve had a certain craving
And I’ve searched far and wide, but
For now I wait for the juice to drip
From my chin and reach for another
Fruity song of what we call love
Fourth of July In this day of symbolism, she sits along with the faint wisps of grass with a lit sparkler blazing between her teeth and ponders upon questions quivering on paper mache wings. They flutter upon each other in frenzy in her head, so she decides to choose one. Will you ever be given the freedom to feel? She sits for a moment, savoring the silence panging for a response. She can feel the blades of grass press into her palms and feel the burning sensation of the sparkler on her lips. She can feel, but only externally. Inside there is nothing but the sensation of a burning numbness in her bones. Others around her feel with each pound of their hearts bleeding red, white and blue as they say for their affection for the soil beneath her feet, with each shower of vibrant sparks from the fireworks exploding in the sky overhead, with each touch from those returning home from a life of holding this American façade with strings of blood stained teeth of those who swam in the saltiest of waters,
VibratoEither swaying on the
Arms of a pregnant breeze
Or violently stroking the world
Of crimson thrill amidst swirling
Notes of melting midnight upon
The haunted frame of this violin
And her song to an immortal rose
These fingers vibrate her entire
Being and all she will do is part
Her lips to reveal the sapphire cold
Blood of a symphony for the night
UntitledA bloody mess in the room
Oops I'm sorry
I killed the groom
Sobs and cries everywhere
I smile happily
And loves the despair
Somber faces on the field
Smirk upon my victory
Broken hearts won't be healed
Stroke the frills of her dress
The white now turned crimson with my work
One more life made less...
The place where they were to be married
The caskets were laid
Soon to be buried...
CasketSkin that splinters by day and burns by night,
Shaking in the corner where wailing voices echo,
Itching the skin until blood spills,
Will it ever ease the tension?
Skin that trembles by day and shudders by night,
Vomiting in the corner where crows shrieking echoes,
Coughing until blood reaches the throat,
Will it ever ease the agony?
You can hear the sky ringing, ringing with the sounds of war
The ground has turned to ash, cinders left behind by these fucking monkeys
Monkeys and their petty quarrels
You can feel, you hear the sound of burning
A world destroyed by a race who was left behind to care for it
Humans and their ridiculous fighting, the never ending fighting
The ghosts take you into the space betwixt spaces, and you can see all
You begin to live vicariously, watching through the eyes of another
And when one pair of eyes goes dark, you find another
And like this, you witness the fall of empires
The destruction of nations
The end of all
You watch as society collapses and rots
You watch as worms devour all
And the snakes start to sing
Bloodlust.This world is merciless,
Cruel, unforgiving, and worthless.
But at the same time the world is amazing,
Wonderful, forgiving, and breath taking.
The cruel is what I see almost all the time,
The breath taking side is so rare its almost a crime,
People bully and hurt others for fun,
When you're in the corner and covered in their tall shadows its hard to see the sun.
What doesn't make sense is the innocents are always afraid of these people,
What makes even less sense is they believe the things that turn out to be so evil,
I hope the people who call them names and push them down know that they might be alone,
I hope they know that those mean bullies make them feel like they have no one to turn too, that they're on their own,
I think that the people who get hurt don't stand up for themselves because they're afraid,
Its weird how someone can be afraid of a peer yet not be afraid of a blade,
Sometimes I wonder why other people bully the innocents why the make them go through so much pain,
Colours of DepressionWhite as blinded,
Red like hellfire,
Crimson like blood,
Orange like fire,
Grey as clouded,
Yellow as faded...
Green like conspire,
Blue as flooded,
Purple as haunted,
Black has shrouded...
Murder is FUN.Lets watch them burn,
Lets watch them die,
Lets throw them in a ditch.
Lets cut their eyes,
Lets watch them cry,
Lets get away with it.
Murder is mesmerizing,
Murder is fun,
Murder is what I have done.
Murder is here,
Murder is pure,
Murder brings out fear,
I love blood,
I love death,
I love killing them and meth,
Today is a good day,
Today they shall die,
Today no one shall ask why.
Lets watch them burn,
Lets watch them die,
Lets throw them in a ditch.
Lets cut their eyes,
Lets watch them cry,
Because murder is fun,
... and I love it.
Whispers in the DarknessWhispers in the Dark*
This night has stirred
It is not as quiet as I thought
In the distance ahead
There came a voice
A whisper in the darkness
It said, "The Old Ones were.
The Old Ones are.
The Old Ones shall be."
Whose voice it is I know not
Nor do I care to know.
Some things are best
When left unknown.
*The Whisperer in the Darkness, Nyarlathotep, by H P Lovecraft
The little ones stay in their beds and say good night to their day. They snuggle into the sheets and hope to dream sweet dreams. The moon shone through the window and the pillows are fluffed just right. Sleep would take them very soon this night. A creak in the house, the wind through the chimes. Taking their turns with rhythm and rhymes. The child’s smile fades as he drifts even deeper. Not thinking quite clearly of creaks creaking closer.
When the Night comes close don’t open your eyes. When the Night comes close to sing sweet lullabies; to whisper the sleep into your ears. Don’t whip open your eyes because then you will see. To fear the Night is to fear me
Death and Pupils of MolassesFallen leaves and broken bones sound the same
Underneath steps of stone
Golden irises and pupils of molasses haunt my hooded lids
The wind sings notes of ghostlike melodies; possessing my ringing ears
Past lives fall gently to the ground like leaves
The blood of the lost bringing colors to piles of ash
Death calls the cold wet earth home; crunching underneath our feet
The dead have come back to us in the bloody shades of autumn
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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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