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this is what happens when we talkfuck, fuck, fuck-
i love you again.
you are my forbidden fruit,
my original sin.
i cry for you when you walk away,
say i've forgotten you the next day.
a lie, of course,
a lie to myself.
you're up on a pedestal you don't deserve,
a king with a crooked crown.
i could talk to you forever,
but when i talk to you i drown.
how could you be everything
and nothing all the same?
you are not what i need,
you are a lion with a broken leg.
we talk in hushed tones in hallways,
hoping no one walks by
to see you and me.
i am an injured child,
an abused dog,
running back for love
even though you're the one who broke me in the first place.
excerpts from my journalOctober 13th, 2013
i can't breathe.
i'm suffocating in my own body,
in my own skin.
i try to break the surface but
i need someone to talk to.
October 15th, 2013
don't stare at me like i've broken your heart.
don't frown like you're upset with me.
don't look at me like you've ever loved me.
the pain in your eyes doesn't belong to me.
i was always yours but you were never mine.
December 3rd, 2013
Everything about your makes me happy
and that's why i'm so sad.
lonely little lifeall my depression stems from the feelings of being stuck.
stuck in this house,
in this body,
in these relationships,
in this rut.
i could easily change things,
get a driver's license,
get a job,
talk to new people.
it's as simple as just doing it,
and yet it's as hard as just doing it.
i think maybe it's some fucked up,
ass backwards way of rebelling,
fail because people don't expect me to.
if i took all the aforementioned actions,
i would be a grown up,
i would be independent,
and i'm afraid that if i don't rely on people
for the most basic things,
then they'll leave me.
because i feel like
i don't matter to anyone.
that i am an afterthought in everyone's mind.
i feel alone.
get addicted to thisi can't remember a time in my life when i didn't feel lonely,
when i didn't feel like i was alone in the world.
even in the biggest crowd,
even with my closest friends,
i am just me.
and it hurts to think about,
when i think about it.
so i don't.
but sometimes it creeps up on me,
and then i feel suffocated
in my own skin.
i don't know how
Nightly Routineit's one of those nights,
the nights were i can't sleep,
but i can't stand to be awake.
i think through all of our conversations,
all of them,
even the bullshit ones.
i try to distinguish which ones
actually mattered to you.
i don't think i can find one,
so i just give up.
i start to think of how bad i want you.
i want you to touch my body
the way you touched my heart,
and i want you to cling to me
the way my mind clings to you,
and i want to see you
the way i see your soul,
and i want to be as happy
as you make me feel,
and never again as sad,
and i want you to love me
the way i love you,
and i'm sorry that you're sorry,
and you're sorry that i'm me.
This Isn't Fun Anymore.What gives you the right to hurt me in such a nice way?
To not talk to me for months after I told you I love you
and then come back and pretend to be anything more than
a stranger in my life?
To laugh at my jokes and to push the hair out of my eyes
and to make sure I'm standing in the shade
so that I won't get too warm?
These little signs of affection burn my skin because
I know that they will be followed by little
signs of rejection.
My feelings for you are a perfect mixture of
"we are meant to be" and "you make me want to die".
I don't know how to have a happy medium with you.
And I really don't know if I want to.
Vice VersaI'd make you promises I can't keep
and promises I wouldn't keep,
even if I could.
I'd tell you that you are the most beautiful thing
I've seen in quite some time,
only to be caught in the lie.
I'd write poetry
about how much I need you
but I want you to stop needing me
I'd break your heart
every goddamn day
but swear that I love you so.
I'd love you
as much as I hate myself,
and vice versa.
Tears would stream down your face
and I'd need a life raft to get away.
October will always haunt me.Inside I'm a kind of monster that no one has ever seen
and I know exactly how this happened to me.
It has something to do with the way you didn't say goodbye.
The way you didn't say yes when I asked if you mightmaybepossibly love me.
Though, you didn't really say no, either.
Left me wondering and worrying about whether I had ruined us
like I had feared I would.
In all actuality, I think you ruined me.
Because without the thoughts of you invading my mind,
I'm just kind of a shell of a person.
No substance, nothing interesting.
Without you I'm just kind of here.
Like a speck of dust on the window sill.
Do you think of me still?
Best Friends, Ex-Friends 'Till the EndI hope the memory of me is a bright star in your dark mind.
I hope giving up on me is what you needed to become happy finally (although I had hoped that I made you happy).
Our six year smiles are now full fledged frowns.
If you never wanted me around you should have just told me so that we wouldn't have had to waste all of this time.
I tried to convince myself that the bridge you burned wasn't arson, that you simply slipped and dropped a match in a gas puddle.
I made myself hate you so that maybe it would hurt less.
And it does (until someone mentions your name).
Now you're just some strange stranger. A ghost of the past [,] I can hardly remember.
I hope you know that I love(d) you.
And I hope you love(d) me too.
But if you're done with me,
Then I have to be done with you.
I'll say it because I know you never will:
Dear deviantART: Free The Author
In a world as colorful, diverse, unique and beautiful as it is today, I’ve learned through my 10 months on this website that many people enjoy expressing themselves in many different ways when it comes to art.
Whether it be through romance, nature, darkness, light or everything else there is to express with, it becomes even more interesting when I see the people express themselves with so many different mediums.
Myself? I enjoy expressing my artistic abilities through many mediums: Digital art, poetry, but most avidly, the xReader fandoms. Avengers, Sherlock, Free!, Shingeki no Kyojin and many, many others.
99% of my stories are romantic. I love to write romance, though I usually don’t take it much further than a little something like a sweet little kiss, the beginning of a new relationship, a baby being born, or occasionally, the odd sexual innuendo. Once, I tried writing a lemon. However it didn’t work out very well, and I decided to remove it for personal reasons.
My ConfessionI never really thought about my lack of sexual interest before society confronted me with it.
It took me quite a while to notice guys as anything more than "other people", and when I did, it was more a group pressure thing than real interest.
I even had a boyfriend then, but not because I particularly liked the guy. Having a boyfriend in your teens is a status symbol. Have one, you're cool, have none, you're not.
Of course, back then things weren't that clear to me. I went with the flow.
For a very long time, I wondered what is wrong with me that I don't enjoy sex, that It makes me feel awkward and that I have no desire to go out and date. Society made me believe it is wrong to be like that. I was ashamed of myself, of my flaws and my obvious failure of being a full-fledged human being.
You define yourself through others. You try to figure out who you are, and you look at others for guidance, for something you can identify with. But you only limit yourself with that, and not finding si
Bullying, a brief storyI always knew I was off, that there was something wrong with me. Elementary school was a wild ride, with no friends, funny nicknames, and even beatings. My nickname, was "It". At that time I didn't know there was any other sexuality other than straight. I didn't know that happened. However, I still admired my same-sex friends, I thought they were pretty, and I wanted to kiss them as much as the opposite gender.
I was pushed off of rock walls, slides, I had basketballs, dodgeballs, footballs, thrown at my head, I was tripped kicked and punched, the nurse knew me by name.
I didn't understand why it was happening, I didn't understand anything. I legit had to make a hula hoop be my best friend, and I'm not even joking.
It wasn't until I started reading the bathroom walls, the backs of whiteboards in class, graffiti on the playground, that I understood. Everyone assumed I was gay, and they wrote stories about me everywhere. Doing things I wasn't old enough to know about yet. The opposite ge
Never Become Like MeWHAT INSPIRED ME TO CREATE THIS PIECE!
"Creating things is an amazing thing. it’s amazing to see what other people are doing, to see the inner workings of someone else’s brain, but in their own style. and if you want to do it, you just go for it. you try. you have to try. ” ~PJ Liguori (KickThePJ) (I'm not scared video)
I am only a young girl, destined to work until my body begins to fade from the earth.
I am only a fragment of the country that floats on the body of water that blankets the world.
I am a person with feelings towards many things. Some things I love so much that I would protect them, even if protecting them cost my own tiny life. Some things I despise so much that I would toss them into the flames that younger children admire so much that they utter words in a melodic fashion around it... And I would watch it burn...
Most days I wake up, I put on my clothes and I venture towards a place which I am forced to endure for six painful hours. I sit on one of t
Inside the VaseThe vase stands there
Cold and firm.
It doesn't make a move.
No one knows.
The vase is pushed
Maybe there was nothing inside.
I am the vase.
I try to put back my pieces with glue.
I guess I finally cracked.
Through all the little cracks
There was water inside.
seems like a bluri wish that people were more transparent.
we're all skin and bones and most of the things that keep us awake and that break our bones is so internalized
and completely invisible. cause most of the time living kind of feels like i've spent countless hours spinning around in circles, and now i'm just trying to keep my stomach from rising, or my eyes from leaking every last liquid i have inside me while the world rushes so inconceivably fast.
i know that i can heal.
skin grows over deep wounds, and even the whitest mountainous scar tissue fades. but i dont know if the external matches the inside. the cuts have healed and the bruises are starting to disappear, but i dont know how your head is feeling. you might not have the black and blue lining your skin anymore, but your insides might still be threatening to drown you, or make you wish you could just stop existing for a little while. you dont know whats happening underneath blemish free skin.
people aren't clocks.
you cant se
A little message of hopeIf you feel like dying
Please don't believe what they say,
You have a right to live,
You have a right to stay.
I don't care what you believe in,
I don't care where you're from,
Just as long as you know what feelings are,
As long as you're beautiful,
Beautiful meaning that you can love.
All that matters is that you're human,
All that matters is that you have a heart.
Your life is not worth it only if you are a bad person,
But you're not a bad person,
There will always be people who will hate you
For whatever reason,
Whether it be reasonable or not,
But no matter what they say,
There are people out there who love you for you.
Out there there are millions willing to show you
Just how much they care,
Even though they might not have met you.
You don't have to have perfect teeth,
You don't need this hour-glass shape that society wants you to have,
You don't need to be a specific gender,
And hey, it's okay if you pull at your hair,
We all want to do that in some points of life
Dealing with Awkward Questions
Awkward Questions and How I Answer or Avoid Them
What is bigender?
Bigender, bi-gender or bi+gender describes a tendency to move between feminine and masculine gender-typed behavior depending on context. Some bi-gendered individuals express a distinctly "female" persona and a distinctly "male" persona, feminine and masculine respectively; others have shades of grey between the two. It is recognized by the American Psychological Association (APA) as a subset of the transgender group.
Are you a persona?
I am Melian!
Are you an OC?
I am Melian. I am very original and I do have a lot of character, thank you!
How old are you?
None of your beeswax bucko. Sheesh.
Are you a man or a woman (boy or a girl)?
No what I mean is, what gender/sex were you born as?
OH look a butterfly! Hey, what's your favorite color? Mine is purple. I like Skittles, do you like Sk
BlinkBlink and suddenly you're 5 years old and you're running and jumping and exploring and you've skinned your knees and crying to mommy to kiss it and make it better because mommy's kisses make everything better
Blink and suddenly and suddenly you're 13 and gangly and awkward. You have breasts and all this extra weight that you don't know what to do with. They tell you you're a woman now but you don't feel any different
Blink and suddenly you're 17 and angry and rebellious and you cant understand why the world doesn't just understand you. You're screaming at mommy because she wont let you see the boy that she knows is going to break your heart. When he finally does, mommy tries to kiss it and make it better, but she cant heal you when you no longer believe you're worthy of love
Blink and suddenly you're 25 and you're stuck in a dead end job in a dead end town. You have a degree but you don't know what to do with it. You have a life or do you? Everyone keeps pushing you to look for Mr. Rig
believe me?i'm not like most girls.
when i look in the mirror, i see hints of pretty, maybe even beautiful, features hiding behind glasses, under low confidence, waiting to be found by a boy who is smart enough to forget about the social norms that i will never, and don't really want to, attain.
'weird', 'unusual', 'unique', are all positive words in my social circle. in my utopia.
i want to hold a boys hand and never, ever have to let go.
i want him to run his fingers though my thick, brown hair and push the too-long bangs away from my eyes and say "i love you more than you have ever loved Fall Out Boy" and i want to giggle at the thought that someone who dares to love me that much .
title: do you believe me when i say i love who i am? nope, didn't think so.
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More