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I Am MeI am from the pile of crumpled pieces of paper on the floor, from Kraft, moving trucks and slamming doors.
I am from that one place, then another, then back.
I am from clover and chains, the meters of wilted sweet in the sun.
I am from tacos at least once a week, from Michelle and Corey and Gaston and Douglas.
I am his "burrito", his girl, his one, where insult-based humor is the norm and words are never enough.
I am from a place where I knew only of the backyard and my bed, from being dragged between home and home. From "carrots will give you boobs" and "Papa's monkey, Nana's dolly, Momma's baby".
I am the kind of person that places my life within a song, then lives it to the tune.
I am from tearful emotions and poor poetic writing skills, from not caring and continuing writing this anyway 'cause I can and I have to.
I am from a family where isolation is a reward and dinners consist of silence with a side of awkward.
I dream of lights, laughter, love, and life. Of e
Who are weWho are we
To think the way we do?
Expectations and norms
Drag down and put out
The very light that fuels the heart,
Leaving a vast emptiness of sorrow,
The desire to grow
Into an insurmountable lie.
Who are we
To believe the way we do?
To blot out and warp
Those who actually are somebody
And subject them to the falsity,
To conform and grow
Into an overwhelming lie.
Who are we
To judge the way we do?
By following custom and crowd,
We are fabricating a world
Where expectations and norms
Lead to a lie;
Where blotting and warping
Lead to a lie;
Create a world
Where falsehoods rule
And truths are ignored.
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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