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PoemsThe Little Things
A touch on the arm
One look into your beautiful, blue-green eyes
All I have
I keep in my mind
Replaying over and over
My playlist of you
Of all the little things
The only ones I have
For what good
Is money or possessions
When the one you love
Will never be yours?
When you have to imagine
How it would feel
For your lips to meet?
I'd never tell you
How much I love to hear you speak
How many times I've listened to you
Watched you from across the room
Or how many times I've feared
That you'd realize it
And you can never find out
That my eyes have never seen someone
The way they see you
That my heart has never soared so high
As it did when you touched me
Or that each second I realize more and more
I Should Tell You
And over in my mind
Do you notice how I look at you?
Do you care?
Beautiful, beautiful wisdom drips from your every word
Craving your approval every second
PoemsGone is what we used to be.
I regret it now; I finally see....
It's time to set these feelings free
That once almost destroyed me.
You probably don't think it's true,
But, yes, I was in love with you.
I just now realized that we're through,
And I think it's split my heart in two.
Even though I know we're over,
Sometimes I still look over my shoulder,
Hoping it's me that you're looking at, though you're holding her.
I can feel my heart freeze.....It gets colder and colder.
One day soon it will break,
But what difference does it make?
I have realized my mistake,
But, alas, it is too late.
To have ever loved in the first place
Was what brought me to such disgrace.
By staying here, I'm losing face.
By leaving, my hopes go to waste.
I won't try to get back together;
I don't think that would work, not ever,
But losing you's got me feeling rather
Not quite right....under the weather.
I know you may not get this letter;
That's probably for the better,
And while my rhyming scheme's not clever,
Judgement"You need to stop doing this."
"Stop doing what?"
"Writing me into your stories."
"Because it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then."
"Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!"
"So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly."
"Well firstly, I'm a really nervous person."
"Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting your nails."
"And I don't like going out. I'm a hermit."
"Except to your best friends' houses, or to the animal shelter, or to me."
"And I'm dead inside."
"Says the boy who hides his tears at the sight of an injured puppy."
"I do not."
"Yes, you do."
"Anyway, I'm not always nice to you. In fact, I really don't do enough."
"You're right. Except yo
My love . . .
My love you are gone from my view.
You do not know how much value you are to me?
My love you are gone.
And you're not here where you belong.
I know so day you'll come back.
So I can sleep soundly in my sack.
I love you my love.
And I know you'll come back.
Inspired by my love
One and Only
Erik you are my one and only.
Without you I feel so lonely.
You are perfect in my eyes.
And I love to surprise you.
I love to see your smiling face.
Others might think you're lonely.
But your not . . .
My one and only.
Inspired by Erik my one and only
Because of you
Because of you.
You never make me blue.
Because of you.
You always made me happy.
Because of you.
You always knew.
Because it's all about you.
Inspired by Erik
Opportunities"Please teach me." She asked him softly.
"Teach you what?" He looked out of the window, shattered glass at his feet. Her face was looking down as she sat on her knees, studying a thousand of his reflections in the mirror like shards below. He seemed a little impatient. She didn't flinch at the annoyance in his voice.
Her eyes, the eyes of a moon nymph drowning, looking into his, the eyes of the sea god who was drowning her. "Teach me about life."
"What is life?" His voice broke slightly, and before it could be seen, he was looking out of his window again. "It is nothing but broken words, stolen from the lips of lovers that had been doomed a long time ago. It is a thousand poniards wedged in the heart of a man who cannot die. It is the black tar on the soul of a woman who cannot breathe." He laughed bitterly, "Life is nothing but an opportunist. It drains your soul. And all it ever offers us in return, are opportunities of sadness and hardship."
"It also gives us a time to be happy and
ExcusesHe sleeps like a child without a voice. (And she listens like a child who cannot hear.)
He dreams like a stranger on a train. (And she watches like another fixated by his thoughts.)
He sighs like the first whisper of a rainstorm. (And she understands like the eve of the storm.)
He breathes like tomorrow is his last day. (And she reminds him that he will live longer than ever.)
He sings like a bird in the winds of the forest. (And she understands the sweetness of every note.)
He cries like the downpour in the desert. (And she climbs to the ends of the earth to make him smile.)
He loses his way like a deer out of the forest. (And she guides him back each time to the place where he is meant to be.)
He breaks like a fragile flower in the dust and the wind. (And she tells him he is too strong to be fragile ever.)
He fights like the last angel defending heaven. (And she gives him his swords and armor.)
He writes like the blood from the finest writer's heart. (And she reads his words with awe
Complicated"You know, personally speaking, I don't think you're really unwell at all."
"I'm sorry, are you the one who is sick or am I?"
"There is nothing wrong with you."
"Can you say that again?"
"I said, you aren't sick!"
"Whatever. The receptionist is calling me in, anyway."
"You're a hypochondriac."
"What?! Listen you-"
"Look, just go inside. I'm sure the doctor will say the same thing."
"So. What did the doctor say?"
"That it's complicated."
"Yeah. They need to run more tests and figure it out."
"You sound skeptical."
"You told him that you only get 'sick' in history class."
"And about how your heart races and your hands shake."
"And about how you can't sleep at night and you can't concentrate."
"Yes, yes, all of that, I told him everything I told you."
"Did you also happen to mention the boy who sits in front of you in that class?"
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Tell me something. Have you noticed
Online"I have a problem."
"You always were a worrier."
"Don't you want to know what it is?"
"Not if it's going to worry me as well."
"That's precisely why you should know it."
"I really think I'll pass."
"But this time it's a really big deal."
"Oh for the love of- All right. All right. You win. What is it?"
"What did you think the first time you met me?"
"That's not a problem, that's a question."
"How am I supposed to answer it exactly?"
"I don't know if your mother explained this to you, but all you have to do is open your mouth and words-"
"Shut it, smart ass."
"Then answer the question."
"I thought you were beautiful."
"See, now that's impossible."
"And why is that?"
"Because the first time you met me, it was online."
"It wasn't your face I was calling beautiful. It was your anonymity in your words."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that in the vast abyss of the seas that form a web of people, you were the one who sat alone in a life broke
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