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.::What's the use::.Whats the use of a heart
when your heart gets broken
what's the use of breath
if you make me breathless
whats the use of a soul
if your soul gets stolen
whats the use of speech
if you never speak to me
whats the point of feelings
if someone dislikes you for them
whats the point of you and me
if you know it will never work out
but i thought it would
so i lay crying on the floor
"i loved you and i still do..."
but you go and forget my feelings for you
.::The Roses are Dying::.I am bored with love
and it's passionless limbs
that drape over my bed
in a lethargic state of impotence
while wearing the same red heart
my soul picked up hitchhiking
off highway serendipity
Now here we are
alone in togetherness
trying to build dreams
with two by fours and glue,
but even a home
won't tie us together
when our hearts live alone
Poetic vows cliched
like all words do, eventually
and we allowed
our bodies to become
another pair of hollow shadows
that make love to a wall
instead of each other
and we wonder why
the roses are dying
.::Deeper::.The crimson flows down my arm.
But I can't stop.
A crimson-red river flows off my wrist.
I lay on the the floor as it pools.
The pain stops.
And the world goes dark.
Name: Encis Hirano
D.O.B: November 30
Height: 6' 8"
Hair Color and Length: White with purple tips, down to middle back, side cut, sweeping bangs.
Eye Color: Sliver
Favorite Color: Crimson Red
Scars: Stitches: right wrist, diagonally along his chest, left ankle, left shoulder, middle of right forearm.
Piercings: Two nose, neck (x2), collarbone, belly button, eyebrow, snakebites, angelbites, upper cheek, gauges, industrial bars, top of ear (x2), bottom of ear (x2), left nipple.
Weapon(s): Small Knives
Likes: blood, autopsies, surgeries, killing things, ranting, teaching, stabbing things (helps him calm down), being covered in blood, drugs (sometimes does them, calms him down. Mostly pot.)
Dislikes: Animals, being bossed around, police, being clean
Day for a DepressiveDragging along is a simple thing
here there is no pleasure;
Walking numb without a course
Not that SimplePlease,
Oh sure-and-stubborn teacher,
stop telling me
her death deserves no mourning.
It was a choice, yes or no
and it's all her fault.
It isn't that simple.
Don't look me in the eyes--
My eyes, that have seen my own blood
more times than I can count; eyes
that have closed tight as a knife was held
to my throat by my own hand;
eyes that read the labels on those bottles
wondering how many pills
would stop my lungs--
don't look me in the eyes and tell me
it's simply yes or no.
Pity's PartyCome on, just look at me,
I lost Happy to Misery,
In a dance with Pedigree,
Amidst the sirens of Apathy,
In the mosh pit in my head.
Can't you see how fun I am?
When my Pride's on the lam,
Sipping Sorrow like Baby Cham,
Falling foul of Honesty's scam,
On the dance floor in my chest.
I look so grievously good,
Doing what Agony should,
And what Depravity would,
In command of the red regiments stood,
On the catwalk of my wrist.
I can hear them pounding,
Watching and surrounding,
Laughing and floundering,
With Pain and Woe hounding,
In the nightclub of my gut.
My guests are saying to,
Cheer no longer pulling through,
Despair sticking like glue,
With Sin ready to sue,
At the opera in my throat.
Watch me as I lose control,
As Loneliness takes it's toll,
Filling out Insanity's role,
Joining Death's lost shoal,
Inside the crypt of life.
See my eyes flutter and fade,
Marching in the Black Parade,
Finding shelter in Hate's shade,
And losing all I had ever made,
As the curtain closes,
To a dozen
HopeWorry not, my one, for if you'll hear;
Put the dead ground to thine ear,
Hark! Spring's new sound shall echo through
Thine chest, thine eyes, are born anew.
We Were Only PretendLook me in the eyes,
& Tell me the truth.
I'm sick of all the games,
& I'm tired of all the lies.
I know you're hiding something from me,
& I know that you don't want me.
So I don't see the point in staying,
Especially when I'm not worth your loving.
Don't make me promises you
My PrisonHere I lie, forever a prisoner...
not of oppression, not of hate...
but a prisoner of my own dark mind...
forever trapped with no way out.
I bang on the bars...
but nobody comes...
to break me free...
from my own dark mind.
I scream for one...
to come help me...
but here I remain...
a prisoner of my own dark mind.
Why must I be a prisoner?
Why must I be trapped here...
held inside my own taboo...
forever within my own dark mind?
My soul is long broken...
within my dark mind...
it is deteriorating...
slowly breaking down...
So, who will guide me out of my prison?
Who will free me from my own dark mind?
Who out there will be my savior...
to liberate me from my own dark mind...
CrazyI hate the way you make me feel,
I hate the way you look at her.
I love the way you hug me,
I love the way you smile.
I love the way you play me,
It keeps me on my toes.
I hate the way you toss me aside,
Stranded on my own.
I love the way your warmth surrounds me,
It makes me feel protected.
I love the way you laugh,
A sound of golden silk.
I hate the way you're so arrogant,
The way you are so self confident.
But I also -
Love the way you make me feel,
It shows that I'm alive.
Hate the way you hug me,
It makes me want you more.
Hate the way you smile,
It draws me in.
Hate the way you play me,
Keeping me caged.
Love the way you toss me aside,
Showing me what the world is like.
Hate the way your warmth surrounds me,
Makes me realize I'm no longer yours.
Hate the way you laugh,
It's always in my head.
Love the way you're arrogant,
Showing you're confident in who you are.
It shows I hate you more than I love you.
But I know, even with everything I hate,
Insert Name HereWe are what they tell us;
No matter how strong,
No matter how wrong.
We are moulded by our distrust,
And when needs must,
We just want to be what they can see,
And so let them tell us what we must be,
Even when it hurts.
Tell me who I am;
Who you want me to be,
I'll change if you don't want me.
I just want to be labelled and to belong,
To be known in what life must prolong.
I just want to be what they can see,
And so let them tell me what I must be,
Especially when it hurts.
Tell me who they are;
The suicide kids of now,
Forever wondering how,
They ever got to be who they aren't,
As if they've been told they can't,
Be them and be what the world can see,
And so let themselves be told what they must be,
Then just lie about how it hurts.
Tell me who you could become;
If you followed your dreams,
They've been torn at the seams,
By a bunch of worthless liars,
And drowned out by criers,
Making you a victim of you,
And what you put yourself through.
Because you just want to be what they can s
ReflectionsI contemplate of the dissociative phases,
marking a past and hesitant future wandering beyond the black,
painting a crimson canvas and hushed memories,
wandering away from a distant reality;
these limbs are not attached,
nor is the mind to a heartbeat,
gradually seeping within the soil,
and silencing the last plea for redemption.
.::Tears::.I hide myself inside this darkened room.
I cry alone, knowing you don't care.
I live full of sadness and doom.
I know that you were never truly there.
These tears I shed, are full of cries.
With these my heart is set on fire.
I'm sick of the dove that dies.
In my heart, i always knew you were a liar.
And with this gun, i can end it all.
I hope to never see you not even in hell.
Inside me I can do nothing but fall.
I see these lies you're trying to sell...
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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