|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
friends? ? ?I"m sad and scared
but do they really care?
I know we laugh and play
but will they be ther at the end of the day?
I know what they say and claim
but why does it seem I'm always alone in the rain?
I know the more friends the marrier
But why am I forced in the corner?
I know your supposed to treat other the way you want to be treated
BUT PLAESE! no one want to feel this.
Alonealone and cold
no one to go to
no one to hold
no one to lie
and say it will be alright
no one to trust with your life
HeWritesSins IWriteTragedies 2CHAPTER 2 -Dad's
I woke up the next morning groggy and out of it. My eyes were sore... shit... I mustve cried myself to sleep. My moms soft whisper asked if she could open the door. I let her in and she told me I had a school day. SHWEET. I talked with my mother then went to the small bathroom. I stared at my reflection... god... who have I become? My skin was milky white and my bright brown eyes glowed against it. I pulled my long dark hair over my shoulder and brushed out the knots, absorbing the fresh smell of Pantene. (: I plopped on some makeup and some lip-gloss and went out into the morning light. I walked down the sidewalk with my favorite black hoodie and Wesleys worn Red Sox hat keeping my wet hair back and off my neck. (It was frekin freezing outside.)
I met up Ells when I saw something that just about made me piss myself. There was something lurking behind the thick fur trees. I saw a bright flash of green eyes... Wesley's green eyes and a devilish smile.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Keep in Touch!
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