[x]

Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
For you.

Dear fucked society,Dear fucked up society,
Why do you take our rights?
Our human rights?
To who we love?
To who we are.. To our image?
Tell me.

You force images down our throat;
Images of airbrushed, false looking
people. You want people to look
more skinny and cause anorexia,
More along the hidden line that
you dig under the ground like
a dead forgotten body yet always there

You show us that its not right to be gay,
lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered..
And then wonder why the suicide rate is
so fucking high. You cause the nightmares
and terrors of our family not accepting us
our

Telling Childhood Goodnight.They were the fearless whispers through the starless night.
They were the pounding feet through the cobbled streets,
Screaming out for everything.
They were the fleeting memories of a time long gone by,
Blown away in the wind to a far away sky,
Where the air is cold and the stars never shine.

Memories leave their traces behind,
The scars on my legs from a day long gone by.
I was climbing a rock,
That would forever leave me with a flaw.

They were the youthful cries, screaming out.
They were the glowing eyes, on a fearless march,
Racing down the cobbled streets, blazing out for all to see.
The beacon of light that is now dying out,
I never wanted it to go away.
Everything is changing at a speed I can’t match,
I am drifting further every day.

It makes me want to cry that the best and worst days of my life,
Are being pushed away with every day that passes by.
I want to hold on
But each day I lose more ground.
Soon they will be gone without even a sound.

Th

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

Silent and GoneAlong the blue streams of those who were simplistically glassed, I drag my wooden, empty coffin; it contains only my past.

For the many decades I've lengthened have expanded pain's time; across shallow mountains and beatings I prepare my final climb.

Through harsh mists and soft grasses the journey trembles on; days on end without my voices; alas, I realize they are gone.

Near all abandonment's shelter I rest without ease; my halved demon appears before me; she speaks hellishly in the breeze.

Forgiveness and hallucination she crisply burns in my eyes; I must awaken and continue, 'tis my time to remain wise.

To a judging stream near the g

I don't fight fair...Cut, bruised, scraped, forgotten. These things I have all been at least once in my life. But it
hasn't made me stronger, just more determined in my fight to live another day.
I know the ways of my attackers, studied their movements, learned their tricks and gleamed
their true motives. I have seen their weaknesses, their faults, theirs flaws and I have kept
them close to me, ready for use when the next time we meet.
They are cautious of me, they have weary from my adaptive ways, knowing that I can fall only
so many times. They are scared for I have the key to their defeat; not by sane ways, but by
the ways they fear to tread.
One look, one stare, one gesture and they will run in fear for the truth is upon them: "I won't
live restrained anymore."
"I have seen your errors an played on them like strings on a violin. Moved you to place were I
make the rules. Put you on display for all to see what you have done, and what will be done."

You ha

The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze

Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain

(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)

Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling

The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream

(To become whatever the second birth dictates)

the carbon footprint of an arsonistyour crystal promise
rings drip off your glacial
fingers into global

nothings. the geodesic
dome you used to live in
is a hell you keep

clean-shaven and concentric,
spiraling away from you,
wrapping your unborn

children up in paper goblets.
for minimum wage, any geryon
would cling to the terza rima

inkblots on your
collarbones, his spongy molars
diving into your right

angles, his familiar laughs
killing your skin with
shivering cuddles and you

shudder, being self-diagnosed
at center of the universe,
your hair a nest of radio

waves, the one cosmic
principle drumming on the ancient
heart of mystery.

but amateur porn always
made you cry

Rose in her hand...I saw a girl she was there for days
sitting at the pavement
Not talking or looking around at anyone
She had a dark red rose in her hands
She was holding it so hard that the thorns
were digging into her skin..

I asked her "Are you alright?" She looked up, then back down at the rose, breathed in to say "Yes, I'm quite alright thank you." She was shaking, her hands were cut dripping with blood from the thorns. I told her "Don't clench it so hard, its fragile and your bleeding" She looked down further and shakily said "..Maybe.. Maybe I want to bleed" I got shocked at this and backed off I didn't want to make anything worse..
A few days went by..
The girl wasn't around,
I knew whereabouts she lived
So I went to see if she was okay
I saw a rose on the grass outside
her house.. Below a window..
A half open window, with the curtains
Drawn only about two inches

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn

Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school

Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory

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New Introduction:Getting over a loved one has never been easy in my book, not that I've had much experience. Not until today. Not until now. Not for us. When people loose someone their close too, life becomes miserable, their spirits taunting your mind as you ask for some justice, for them to return. Under any normal circumstance I would feel the same, although I didn't. It was worse. I'd grown up with my Mother, as her and my Father went through a troubled divorce where my father took my other Siblings and our home, our lives. All from the youngest age, Two. Leaving my Mother with nothing, but myself and a duty. I'd never seen my Dad si

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Submitted: February 5, 2012
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50 Points - Character Contest

by *ThatCanonKid, Feb 5, 2012, 2:34:15 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Win 30 points

I'm working on a book for the whole of deviantart to read, It will come in stages of chaptors. I'm holding a small contest to see if anybody can draw my charactors. Below I will give you information on each charactor, and the scene I would like you to draw. The winner will be chosen by Me and a friend. Who is not related to Deviantart. The contest ends 08/03/2012 have fun, and good luck to all.

Sophia

Sophia is a young, teenage turkish girl. An age of 19, she has a slim build, beautiful silk like, red hair hoving over her shoulders. She is smaller than Stefan, My second Charactor. Sophia has a necklace, an 'S' around her neck which is very significant. She has three small freckles on each side of her nose, and a small cute Just above her lip on her left side. She also has a fun, bubbly personality. Her outfit consists of a small, crop top. Light pink with a fun slogan on it. *you can decide, best wins an extra 10 points!* and short denim, shorts, and converse pumps.

Stefan

Stefan is an average nineteen year old guy, With medium lengh hair, Not too long, not too short. and, a well built, slim body he finds girls are no objection. He goes to the gym, so his arms and leg muscles stand out giving him a lovely body. His personality, is kind and gentle, Like a cat, never a lion. With dark brown, hazel eyes and a cheeky smile. His outfit consists of a pair or shorts, hovering above his knee caps, A light brown grey consistancy, He wears a black/grey shirt with a logo. Again, best logo wins 10 points. and again, grey pumps.

When I've picked my winner, I will hold a second contest for a background.

I would like my charactors either stood up, beside eachother, shoulders touching whilst Stefan's head is turned giving Sophia a smile or Sat down, Sophia's resting against stefan's shoulder whilst his arm is gently rubbing hers

Please leave a comment, below with a link to your entry. Your work MUST be your own.
If you need extra time, please let me know although I will only expand the competition for one day.

All together you have a chance to win:
~ 30 points = charactors.
~ 10 points = best slogan.
~ 10 points = best slogan.
thats 50 points

THIS CONTEST IS STILL ON!
GOOD LUCK!
BelovedInk

50 Points - Character Contestby *ThatCanonKid

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Best of luck!

~asuka47 Feb 28, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Hi, as promised, here is my artwork--->[link]

*ThatCanonKid Feb 28, 2012 Student Writer

Thank you!

~asuka47 Feb 28, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

You're welcome~

~VegetasLittleSister Feb 27, 2012 Hobbyist

Two questions:
1. Are we allowed to use a base?
2. Do we draw one character or both?

*ThatCanonKid Feb 28, 2012 Student Writer

Yes, and both.

~littlecookiefan Feb 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Damn, I'm too late xD
Well, I hope you found what you were looking for anyways ^^

*ThatCanonKid Feb 26, 2012 Student Writer

No you're not!

~littlecookiefan Feb 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I can still try?

*ThatCanonKid Feb 26, 2012 Student Writer

definitely!

~littlecookiefan Feb 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Great. Might not be the best thing ever, but I'll try ^3^

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50 Points - Character Contest

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