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DesensitizeThere's no point in filling my chest
when I love how I feel
when I'm starving to death
I want to throw rocks at innocent rib cages
So someone will feel how I do
Cover my mouth with feathers and cotton
Drip-drop my eyes with white light
Wrap up my nerves til they're gone
Desensitized by my own self-loathing
I just love this suffocating
And in the end I feel pity for no one
Man MadeIn the early morning I saw a newborn fawn with its nose in the snow
She looked at me but didn't move, as if naively assuming
I'd never hurt her
And I briefly wondered what could bring anyone to kill something so small
A few days ago I saw a small dog sitting on the corner of the street
Just waiting, probably for someone he loved to come back for him
I could feel the trust and security he had for his person as he sat on his haunches
And I fleetingly wondered how someone could hurt something so loving
Today I saw two men fighting over something mundane
They beat each other with fists and words until eventually one died
I assume they had family and friends and considered this as they broke each others' faces
And I wondered nothing
Taste of your mouth on mine.The distant sounds in
r e m e m b e r a n c e
of you. The call.
and your out-of-
tune piano and
youi learned a lot after i met you.
the first thing i learned was that
some people just pretend to be okay
but inside theyre breaking.
a lot of things (i mean people, and i mean you)
are not always what they seem to be.
another thing i learned was that
all good things come to an end.
(but maybe in our case, it was for the best.)
theres a fine line between
love and hate.
i could never decide which one
i should have used to describe you.
you once told me
that i looked prettiest when i cried.
(but i think you just liked seeing me hurt.)
sometimes, when its late
and no one else is home
(i dont see whats so pretty about it.)
HomesickI am the river's son,
my arteries flowing turquoise
and turning to rapids
rushing around my frame,
filling me with this sense
of buoyancy, minnows
tickling my sternum.
I am the river's son.
My palms caress each
silty shoreline, every
battered bank and bend,
and these places I know
so well become me
as my fingerprint,
even the bridge above me
inflamed by the afternoon
sun-glow, burning rusty and
the steel blue sky.
I am the river's son;
I bring my home along
like hermit crab,
where I step
I pull water from the earth.
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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