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Literature
Hindsight
Hindsight is 20/20
They say.
It’s not you.
It’s me.
I’m sorry.
I can’t fix it.
Hindsight is 20/20.
If I could change it
I would.
They say.
I love you.
I want you.
Let me join you.
Help me grow.
Let me help you
Grow.
I miss you.
Are there magic
word you seek?
Hindsight is 20/20.
Forgive me.
I was ignorant.
Selfish.
Cruel.
I am not that.
I am lost.
And I want
to be with you.
Hindsight is 20/20.
They say.
But you are
a Picasso.
And a Monet.
Combined.
A beautiful mess.
You were
my mess.
I am a mess.
Not beautiful
like yours.
But I am
me, and I am
working.
Shifting.
Adapting.
Hindsight is 20/20.
Please.
Don’t let me
suffer.
For all the mistakes
I didn’t know.
I was making.
Because
Hindsight
is 20/20.
I want to negotiate.
I want to make plans.
I want to hear
how I hurt you.
And how things
should have happened.
if our vision had been 20/20
at the time.
I am weak.
I know.
But I am strong.
I know.
Please.
Don’t hate me.
For my mistakes.
Love me for the
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Literature
It continues
I push and pull,
I cry and numb,
My heart throbs,
My face smiles,
I laugh briefly,
Then I want to puke.
I go up.
I go down.
I feel great.
I start over again.
It continues.
I think I'm okay.
I'm not.
I scream.
I get angry.
I get sad.
I fight.
I fly.
My wings are broken.
My mind, a mess.
I believe in us.
I think I shouldn't.
I think I'm stupid.
I hope I'm not.
I hope time heals.
I hope you come home.
To me, one day.
It continues.
I miss you.
I love you.
I hate this situation.
I want to fix it.
I can't.
I try, I fail.
I don't try, I lose.
I let you in.
I shut you out.
I'm confused.
It continues.
I can't sleep.
I can't get up.
I hurt.
I try to move on.
I try to hold you.
I try to not hold you.
I want you to hold me.
I want comfort.
I want support.
From you.
No one else is able to do it right.
It continues.
It cycles.
I yearn.
I break.
I heal.
I try.
I fade.
I sleep.
I cry.
I smile.
I numb.
I feel.
I distract.
It continues.
It continues.
It continues.
It continues.
It continues.
It continue
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Literature
They Whimper in the Wind
The world crashes,
The ocean fades,
I’m left in pieces,
Waiting to wash away.
I try to smile,
Just make it through the day,
But I've got no direction,
The needle on my compass
Was wrong.
It points to you,
But that path is blocked,
I don’t know where this path leads
On which I walk.
But I will walk it,
As far as it goes,
In the hopes that one day,
It won’t be a road I walk alone.
My branches are bent,
They whimper in the wind,
They miss your tender love,
With all of their being.
They miss the hugs and kisses,
How you made them feel strong.
They miss the hopes and dreams,
That filled both our hearts,
My branches are bent,
They whimper in the wind.
One day I hope,
Our paths will cross again.
My body yearns for my wife,
It intends on being with you,
But I can’t make you intend,
On being with me too.
I can never regret our time,
It was the best of my life,
You are my passion,
My soul mate,
My love, oh, my love.
Good luck, good faith,
I’ll love you always.
For n
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Literature
Listen
Is anybody out there?
Can anybody hear me?
Is anybody out there?
Are you even listening?
Listen close,
Listen closer,
I'm drowning,
Drowning in anonymity.
I want to go home,
What is that?
I want to go home,
Who is that?
Is anybody out there?
Can anybody hear me?
Is anybody out there?
Are you even listening?
Listen close,
Listen closer,
I want to touch,
And be touched.
Do you even notice?
I'm dying for attention.
You don't even notice,
Why'd I put myself out there.
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Literature
Play My Aces
Life is just a series of events colliding upon one another, mixing and caressing each other with their sweet nothingness. I always say 'we cannot choose the cards we're dealt - we can only choose how to play them'.  But what are these cards, and do we, in fact, have control over them?  People cheat at poker all the time.  Maybe I can just keep palming my aces until I need to play them.  Yet that doesn't seem fair, plus what happens to my aces when I die?  No, we can't palm our aces.  So what are my cards, anyways?  Are they my emotions? the event in my life? the people I meet?  What can I do with these cards?  There is no point in playing an emotional card to someone who doesn't have that same emotional card for me.  So what will I do with all these cards I have no use for?  Case and point: I want to sleep with more than one of my straight friends - they obviously can't have th
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Literature
Are you...?
Are you on of them?
Those people I fear,
That stare me down,
As I near.
Are you one of them?
To whom I lower my gaze,
as if you're right:
I should not be here,
Are you one of them?
That built this place,
Designed for everyone,
But those out of sight,
Are you one of them?
That turns away,
And asks you're friends,
Should you say?
Are you one of them?
Or are you one of me?
Who stands and stares,
At choices unforeseen.
Are you one of me?
Who picks one,
based on what,
the others see.
Are you one of me?
Do you stand and choose,
which bathroom
shall I use?
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Literature
I wish I were a drag queen...
Star light star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight...
I wish I were a drag queen,
For if I were you see,
I'd take off all my attire,
And be a boy underneath.
I wish I were a drag queen,
so confident, so strong, so brave,
I love their sultry attitude,
I'm sick of all this shame.
I wish I were a drag queen,
so beautiful and free,
Most elegant and charming,
Everything I'm supposed to be.
I wish I were a drag queen,
Every single day I dream,
But then I wake up,
And I'm still just stupid ol' me.
I wish I were a drag queen,
You have no clue how much I do,
Sometimes it hurts so much inside,
I just wanna cry until I die.
I wish I were a drag queen,
I'm so envious you see,
For at the end of the night,
They can pack up their female life.
Star light star bright,
Every star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Please let me be a drag queen tonight...
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Literature
Alec
Silence is the ultimate fate.  It’s all I hear as I lie beside Terri’s bed, his hand in mine.  I’m begging for him to wake up, to squeeze my hand like he usually does.  There’s nothing, no motion, just the empty silence emanating from his body.  My weeping sounds encompass him and the silent sterile room.  I wish I could have been there when they bought him in, I wish I could have been there to comfort him, and to squeeze his hand, as he has done for me so many times before.  I think about how Terri got to this place, in this bed, this white-cotton-sheeted bed.  I think about how he got to this silent sterile cramped white place.  I think about the people who put him here.  I think about the men who pushed him to the ground, and kicked him, until he was no longer able to breathe properly.  I think about the men who continued to kick him and beat him, even though he wa
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Literature
Invisible People
“Can I help you with anything?”  Grab glove, slide door open, wait.
“Can I get a rainbow trout?”  Pick up trout, hold for customer to see, wait.  “Yep, that’s perfect” Put on scale, type in code,
“Is that okay?” Wait.  They nod.  Hit print, tear parchment, wrap fish.  “Is there anything else?”  Hold out package
“No thanks”
“Have a good day” They walk away.  Pick up used glove; throw out, close counter door.  Put on gloves, go in cooler, get two cases of salmon, put on cutting board.  Cut open boxes, break off lids, dump out ice.  Pull out salmon fillets, pile on right of cutting board, put one empty box over the sink; one box on the floor.  Turn, look at counter, remove gloves, throw gloves, walk over.
“Can I help you with anything?”  Grab glove, slide door open, wait.
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Literature
NO TITLE YET...
Silence is the ultimate fate.  It’s all I hear as I lie beside Terri’s bed, his hand in mine.  I’m begging for him to wake up, to squeeze my hand like he usually does.  There’s nothing, no motion, just the empty silence emanating from his body.  My weeping sounds encompass him and the silent sterile room.  I wish I could have been there when they bought him in, I wish I could have been there to comfort him, and to squeeze his hand, as he has done for me so many times before.  I think about how Terri got to this place, in this bed, this white-cotton-sheeted bed.  I think about how he got to this silent sterile cramped white place.  I think about the people who put him here.  I think about the men who pushed him to the ground, and kicked him, until he was no longer able to breathe properly.  I think about the men who continued to kick him and beat him, even though he wa
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Literature
Half-boy: Half girl
I want to be half boy, half girl
I like certain parts, and not others
I like my rough boys frame,
I hate my boyish scraggly arms,
I hate the way my hair falls into a part if I let it grow just a touch too long,
I hate the way my breasts hang heavy against my chest
But I love the way my waist curves in to part my womanly chest from my tight little boyish hips
I love the way my calves are curvy, and that I have 'girlish' legs
I hate the way my muscles refuse to grow, no matter how hard I work out
I like that I can be taken, as both a girl, and a boy,
And either way, I’m assumed to like girls
I'm either a straight boy, or a very gay girl
And yet it frustrates me when they assume I am one or the other, and I have no in between
Can I not be a girl down below and a boy up top, is that idea so hard to comprehend?
I'm not a boy, but I'm not a girl either,
I suppose I lay somewhere in the middle.
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Literature
Stop the Hate-Reflective
If someone had told me three years ago about the person that I am today, I don’t think I would have believed them.  It’s not that who I am today is better or worse than whom I thought I was going to be, it’s just very different.  I never expected myself to be the way I am now.  I never imagined that I could be this torn up, for so many good reasons versus the bad reasons that once torn me apart.  I never thought that something this good could hurt so much, or that something so wrong could feel so good.  I don’t think who I am today really reflects who I wanted to be.  I wanted to be bad.  I seriously wanted to be into heavy drugs and alcohol.  You can ask any of my friends from back then and they will tell you that that’s who they kind of expected me to be.  I was the most confident out of all of them, and I was pretty shy.  I was the most changing, the strangest
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Doll - Workshop by depressed-writer Doll - Workshop :icondepressed-writer:depressed-writer 0 0 Workshop by depressed-writer Workshop :icondepressed-writer:depressed-writer 1 0
Literature
The Essence of Life
Perhaps it is not love that is the essence of life; by chance it could be mystery or adventure - a story.  The reason we are all here may not be to grow old with that one person who fills one’s heart with this concept of love.  When one finds that special someone, some people know straight away, and others learn to love another person.  Maybe the reason why the population is growing is not because of love, but because of mystery.  Maybe the reason some families have many children is because they find sex adventurous, and mysterious, because both parties always bring something new to the table.  And vice versa goes for those who do not have a lot of children; their sex was not daring enough.  But perhaps time plays a role as well.  Some lovers meet each other at a young age, and have time to plan how many children they want, and others are planted with children by their own poor judgments.  And others m
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Literature
Who Am I?
I sometimes wonder about you; yeah, you.  Why you say the things you say, why you do the things you do, why you think the way you think, Why you wear what you wear, even down to the tediousness of why you cut your hair how you cut it.  Its almost like, I study you, to see if you can give me some glimpse of me.  Someone once said, the traits you hate about other people are the characteristics you yourself possess.  And I guess that is kind of true, I see you, and I HATE the way you say something, the way you talk to someone, and then, 20 minutes later, I’m saying the same things, in the same ways.  And then there are things that I see you do and hate and I couldn’t even dream of doing them.  I still study you though, yeah, I’m still talking about you.  The way you flick your hair, the way you hold your eyes, sometimes soft, sometimes dazed, and sometimes hurt.  Someone told me once, that if yo
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Activity


deviantID

depressed-writer
Brianne
Canada
Interests
okay guys, I'm gonna be back for a bit..   posting a new story of mine - no title yet... check it out!
bri

p.s..  girl just broke up with me  -  def bad for me :(   not healthy.  hasn't talked to me since....   so I'm in a bad place..

Comments


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:iconipott:
ipott Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2009
thanks for faving [link]

i've edited it, maybe you like it more now
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Who-Is-Chill Featured By Owner May 4, 2009  Professional Photographer
:peace:
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:iconbrightsidekiller:
BrightsideKiller Featured By Owner Apr 5, 2009  Student Writer
Thank You For The Watch :heart:
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:iconraephen:
Raephen Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2009
Thanks so much for the fave! :glomp:
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:iconhmn:
hmn Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thank you fo the :+fav:'s
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Frankief Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave.
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foxfairy13 Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2009  Student Traditional Artist
Thank you for the favorite of my wallpaper! It will be available soon on my website, foxfairycreations.com soon. It's not up and running just yet... :)
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HarlotsRoulette Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2009  Student Photographer
Thanks for the fav and hope you're feeling better
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NORpolarbear Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2009
thanks for the fav, it really means allot.. so, thank you
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spiffingsailor Featured By Owner Feb 15, 2009
Cheers for the fave!
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