|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
I'm FineI'm fine.
Clearly you see that I'm not.
But really I'm fine.
Always have been.
But no I'm not.
I'm not fine.
Saying your fine means nothing.
It is a lie.
But I say it anyways.
It's all I can say.
To keep them away.
Because telling them won't help.
Because they don't understand.
Explainations won't do.
So I say those two words.
Just to keep them satisfied.
While my mind scream "I'M NOT FINE".
My lips are in a straight line.
I show no signs of being "not fine".
But that's just a mask.
So really, I'm not fine.
But I'll keep saying it.
I'll keep saying it till you're satisfied.
Because it's my problem.
It's never your problem.
So you shouldn't have to worry.
But I want you to worry really.
But telling you that is selfish.
I can't be selfish.
Selfish is bad.
So if you ask,
Yes I am fine.
But no I am not fine.
I am far from it.
But I'll tell you that lie again.
So you don't make that face.
Even thought I'm not fi
I am.I am.
I am the person who lives.
I am the person who loves.
I am the girl who cries to sleep at night, wishing I could be prettier.
I am the boy who is trying to live up to everyone else's expectations other than my own.
I am the invisible who linger in the hallways.
I am the person who bullies to feel better.
I am the parent who gave up after my child went to jail.
I am the daughter who works at fifteen because my parents can't.
I am the person who is bullied for being different.
I am the person who lives because I don't know what happens after death.
I am the woman who is hit on every day because of my looks, making them more of a curse then
I am the man who took steroids to be stronger and now am discarded by society.
I am the child who was forgotten.
I am the broken.
I am the hero.
I am the villain.
I am the takers.
I am the givers.
I am the deserving.
I am the bullied.
I am the pressured.
I am the suffering.
I am the surviving.
I am the wishers.
I am the dreamers.
Who says I dont care?I don't care who you are
I don't care what you were
But if you are with me,
I will care about you
I don't care where you live
I don't care what you live in
But if you have no reason to live,
I will help you find your reason
I don't care what relationship you had
I don't care who they were with
But if they hurt you,
I will be there for you
I know I don't care about many things
I know I'm blunt and insensitive at times
Just know that
I am your friend and you are mine
I may not care at times, but right now I do
I'm not insensitive because I still care for you
cry for...cry for...
the girl who sees fat
in all the wrong places
and wishes for a way
to eliminate it quickly
the boy who strayed
popping pills like candy
nearly drowning in sorrow
and creating a single red line
the girl who feels deformed
no matter what you see in her
how lovely she truly is
she's convinced it's all lies
the boy who has to hide himself
and holds more secrets than you know
but let's me see inside his heart
and stays strong for us both
the girl who just wants love
but keeps doing it the wrong way
she may not see it but i can
and she needs help before it's too late
cry for us, strangers to you
but not to others
for we are the young ones
suffering in silence
begging to be heard
a little piece of heaven.Give me a disaster
and I'll swear that I'll turn it into something beautiful.
If you're near me
everything you touch magically fits your mood,
but I don't really care
because your voice always gives me goosebumps
and makes me feel alive again.
You magically make a sad song
the most beautiful thing in the world
because you're a star in the fallen.
I've never felt so brave before,
but I still know that I'm slowly falling apart.
And your voice is the thing that makes me feel strong again
because whenever I think of you
I can pick up the missing pieces in my heart again.
I've never felt so strong before,
but I owe it all to you.
(and you own my heart.)
Is It Wrong?Is it wrong
That I glance up at the clouds,
Feeling the wind through my hair,
And dream of a mystifying land
Where one can be accepted no matter what?
Is it wrong
That I choose to wear jeans down past my heels,
Baggy and ripped at the knees,
Unlike all the other boys that wear athletic
Shorts, so unscathed and clean?
Is it wrong
That I ask people about their troubles,
Sometimes doing all in my mortal power
To help them surpass the simple,
Even ones I have not defeated myself?
Is it wrong
That while the few friends I have
Dance around giddily and go to
The most extreme only to impress,
But I only hang back in silent content?
Is it wrong
That I do not laugh when others are hurt,
On their knees in blood stained mud,
And I am there with hand outstretched,
Seeming to always be there in time of need?
Is it wrong
That I do not clap, nor do I support
Ones I do not find worthy of it,
Ones who I find in my perspective to be
Quite cruel and bitterly heartless?
Is it wrong
That I choose to sit in
TearsShe was the girl with eyes of burnt amber. But her eyes weren't always that way. It came from hiding a truth so harsh that her beautiful eyes had turned dark. She swore she could never fall in love.
He was the boy with a face shaped like a broken heart. But his face wasn't always that way either. It came from caring so much about someone that his heart was scratched in cruel, manicured fingers, mangled beyond belief. He swore he would never love again.
They met in a spinal corridor. Then in a courtyard. Then in a room which had a broken window. And finally in a doorway that was too small. And she was crying.
Diamond tears from burnt amber eyes. Diamond tears that fell, uncared for, onto the ground.
He finally had to reach out and stop one diamond from hitting the floor. She looked up at him, surprised, almost angry. But before she could speak, his voice, wine rich, half broken like a damaged violin spoke. "Don't waste your tears where no one can see them."
"They mean nothing."
There's a Girl...There's a girl I know....and I'm afraid for her.
She doesn't know who she is,
She's trying to figure it out.
She wants to be right, but only seems to do wrong.
She looks ahead, but can't forget the past.
She's scarred and wounded, and it's never healed.
She has no best friend, she feels alone in this world.
She's afraid to be herself.
She wants to let it all out, but always holds it in.
She is happy on the outside, but inside sobbing.
She doesn't know who her friends are.
She wants to start over.
She wants to forget.
She wants to know who she is.
But in the end, she's to scared to try.
Her secret? No one knows.
No one cares to ask.
No one cares to help.
No one feels.
She is alone.
The people around her say that she is strong,
But she's scared.
They say that she's beautiful,
But she has an ugly secret.
They say she's open,
But she's afraid to let people see her true self.
I'm the only person she has.
But the sad thing is, she's not even real.
SHE doesn't exist.
On preparing to never let goWalking slowly down the hall, arms filled with the day's mail, we spoke of morbid things.
She wants to be reduced to ash and I want to know if I can keep her on my mantle.
She looks at me sideways with a curious face and forgets her footsteps.
It's a little bit morbid, she tells me, deciding it's time to continue shuffling along,
but I think the way I'm trying to picture her perfect urn is probably worse.
There's nothing that I can think of that suits her, though,
and I wonder if I even know her.
Do I scatter you somewhere? You can't visit scatter.
(I think good daughters plant guilt in the carpet pile to trip upon.)
But she doesn't trip, instead she ruminates on how appalling it'd be to divide her in fourths:
she laughs as she's divvying up her body parts for our mantles.
I tell her we'll set up a custody schedule, but only between my closest sister and me;
we're the ones that take care of her. But in reality, I'm not planning on sharing.
She tells me she wants to be in the n
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More