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I want to be BETTER
I want to be PERFECT
I feel inadequate otherwise.
It's an impossible endeavor
And so I've failed before I've even begun.
But I WANT it.
I NEED it.
Other girls seem to possess it.
In my head I know this to be false.
No one is PERFECT.
My heart doesn't believe such easy truths.
It wants me to suffer for my IMPERFECTIONS.
It is an unattainable desire
That I cannot help but to yearn for.
I feel as though I won't be happy until I have it in my grasp.
I can't be SATISFIED.
I won't be SATISFIED.
I hate myself for what I am and what I can never be.
NumbTeardrops slide down her cheeks
And her pretty face begins to melt,
Reminiscent of the way a cherry popsicle might melt
Grasped in the small hands of child
On a hot summer day.
Mascara mixes with her tears
Marking their paths down her face like tiny black streams.
They collect on her nose
And splash to her parted lips
Where they mingle with the taste buds on her tongue.
The salt stings and melts there;
Those on her skin dry, and...
She can't feel anything anymore.
Puzzle PiecesThe space between us
Is too much.
I can press myself into you
All that I want
But still I need to be...
Let me crawl inside you
And make my home your heart.
Maybe then I won't feel this pain
Because all that's holding us together
Is the quivering strength of our bodies
And right now that is not enough.
Breathe into me
So that I may melt
Right into your being.
Squeeze me and hold me
Until my bones crack and begin to meld with yours.
These millimeters feel like miles
And it's killing me,
It's breaking me,
And even your arms are not sufficient
To stop my crumbling away.
Hold the pieces,
Of what I was
In the palms of your hands.
Push them together and remold my body
So that it fits perfectly with yours.
Make me into a puzzle piece
That matches you
Giving In, Over and Over Again *I love you*
Do you even know what that word means?
I know it isn't what we're doing here
*If this isn't love, then what is it?*
*What's tragic is the way you won't allow yourself to feel*
At least I CAN feel. Can you?
*I can feel your heart beat against mine*
You don't have a heart
*Just because it's broken doesn't mean it's not there*
Trying to fix this. Trying to fix me
*Fine, but if you want to stay broken, then why can't we stay broken together?*
You don't want me
*I've never wanted anything more*
You're not good at lying
Random 2 I looked down at my feet, noting the dusting of dirt and grass across my toes. Apparently my efforts to clean them in the pool had been rendered pointless when I decided to walk through the lawn with wet feet.
"Cold?" an amused, almost mocking, voice asked. I knew that condescending tone. My head flew up, just in time to see Jestin's smirk.
"No." I snapped. It wasn't really a lie. Sure, I had been freezing, but now I was flushing with embarrassment and irritation at getting caught off guard once again by the ridiculously attractive nuisance known as Jestin Michaels. And though I'd never admit it, the fact that Jestin is ridiculously attractive may be another reason for the blood rushing to my face. Jestin's presence in a room demanded a reaction, both physical and otherwise.
"Oh, so you only shiver and hold
StringsThere is a room
On the corner of nowhere
In this room are strings
Millions of them
Twining together, tugging at one another.
New strings are always forming
They are pure white in the beginning
But very, very few stay that way.
They get dirty, and some turn nearly black.
They all break, eventually
Some ignite and begin to burn.
Those that burn will sometimes set to light the strings entangled with their own.
Sometimes a person
With dark intentions
Will come into this room of strings
And break apart a string or two or three or four.
Then they leave, hands stained with blood.
They may come back,
Or they may not.
Other people will come
Also with dark intentions
And they will tug harshly at the strings
Not enough to break them,
But it is enough to fray them.
Sometimes they too
Leave with bloodstained hands.
But some come, and try to mend those that are fraying
They try to wash those that have been bathed in filth
They don't always succeed, but they do t
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More