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HappinessShe leaves me frequently, without warning-
this capricious lover of mine.
Without provocation, she deserts me;
without rhyme or reason she leaves me to
complete her madness in the dark.
I forget often that she is Master
and I mustn't question her actions
even though they leave me at a loss.
As I standby, and learn to dissect myself
like an insect speared on a peg,
or a corpse rotting in some grimy catacomb,
I must recite the mantra:
she is god. She is god.
Fragments of days pass by me
and I, in a haze of half-forgotten memory, cannot piece together
any singular moment in time
that could connect to anything else.
There is only her,
and her spindly hands upon my throat
before she finishes her rounds
and smugly skips away.
I try fruitlessly to pick up the
shattered remains of what was once a human life.
Her face is tattooed on my soul.
Her voice echoes in the lonely halls of my memory.
Her touch is a scar upon my existence.
I cannot salvage a thing.
And then, just like the tide,
TrustLook how the Earth
aimlessly follows the sun;
Running in circles
to end the same place
365 days later
for the sun is older,
the sun is bigger,
the sun is hotter
And maybe this is why
we blindly follow
these kinds of people too;
We look up at the sky
and trust the sun too
See that girl?You see that girl?
The one with the face that has housed tears
Whose skin remembers scars
But still whose eyes see a better world
She's got a mess of hair thats job is really only to get in the way
Her head underneath it- is filled with poetry and pretty things
While her world is filled with destitution.
Maybe she's the one that goes by many names.
Maybe she responds to none.
She's the kind of girl who never stays down
Unless she's the one who put herself there.
She might be a friend of yours,
Or just a passerby.
She might dress outlandishly
Maybe shes just trying to hide
This girl's been kicked and bruised and torn
But she's got duct tape on her skin
Superglue on her heart
and staples in her head
and she keeps on.
See that girl?
She's a star.
There aren't many of them left.
Reality's ScarsReality's Scars
Knives of words,
Cut through the rose-tinted glass,
Leaving it to shatter,
It doesn't matter,
Because I never said I loved you.
Memories choke me,
This is all so hard to swallow,
I called you names,
You played mind-games,
But I never said I loved you.
I fill it with music again,
A scar on my left side,
A bullet hits my pride,
Still, I never said I loved you.
So cruelly inflicted leave me,
True colours seep and show,
My common sense follows,
I never said I loved you.
But once, I would have thought it.
the failed escape artistshe is a snowflake-skinned sigh
floating on the winds of Eurus,
playing tic-tac-toe on her skin.
she always comes out the loser
standing on the road between
two worlds, she wonders when
she started to read the map wrong,
because this isn’t the
second star from the right.
she can burn the pictures,
but she can’t burn her memories.
and damn it,
her wanderlust is trying to
pull her up, up, and away
but the desolation is keeping
its slimy tentacle wrapped
around her ankle and
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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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