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Seduction By Trade - prt 2BANG
My eyes fly open and I almost knock myself clean out again as I jerk forward from the carseat, reaching for my gun that's no longer in it's holster. Shit. I look around, no Bambi either. Double shit. Damn woman must've taken off with my gun, God only knows what she was doing with it. And where in the hell where we anyway?
I step out of the car and am greeted with a brief gust of wind that whips my hair into my face and eyes, slamming the door shut for me and almost toppling the car itself. There was nothing but sand and heat for miles, and I look around like a dumb ape, rubbing my beading forehead with a calloused hand in bemused annoyance. Then my gun goes off again and my feet move before my head in the direction of the sound. Picking up speed I begin to see a figure in the distance, wavering from the heat rising up from the scorching sand. I get closer and can pick out some distinguishing features. Those huge curls tied up out of her face, that perfect silhouette clad only in l
Seduction By TradeI feel the cold breeze hit the back of my leather jacket hard, and my nostrils are assulted with foreign perfume as the door of the bar is opened, and I don't have to turn around to know who's standing in it. She is a demon in the form of a Goddess. Perfection that eats mens hearts as they watch still devotedly, bleeding and broken beneath her. She goes by many names, but to me she was known as Bambi. Such a gentle name for a woman so wild. I get out my cigarettes in readiness as I hear her heels clicking towards me, lighting one for myself and leaving the box on the table. I exhale the first sweet drag of smoke as the flashing eyed temptress wafts across my vision, flicking her soft curls through the hazy veil, and her perfume hits me again. She leans in and kisses my cheek while smoothly sliding her hand across the bar to reach for my cigarettes. I answer with my customary steely silence and a quick acknowleding glance in her direction, before jerking my head at the waitress to ask f
Soak Me, Beautiful"I've taken to eating nothing but bread" she exclaimed more to herself than to her counter part that stood in the doorway.
"And why is that?" said the counterpart amusedly
"Well, have you ever dipped bread into milk? It soaks it all up into itself until the whole piece is full, even if you only dip in a little."
Her counterparts' head turned in slightly confused curiosity
She glanced fleetingly at the doorway to give her counterpart the once over, before returning her gaze to the piece of bread she repeatedly turned over in her hands.
"It feels like my stomach is full of milk. Cold, black, inky milk, half full of heavyness and half empty of anything. I need the bread to soak up the milk. Anything else would just make it heavier."
She tore off a piece of bread from the corner and shoved it into her mouth, her eyes drifting off into the distance infront of her.
Her counterpart watched her seep into another place inside her head, and knew that the conversation was over.
In Your EyesIt's hard to watch a friend break
It's even harder to watch it over and over
And know there is absolutely nothing you can do to help...
There was laughter once
I watched it
There was love once
There was pain once
I felt it
There was innocence and awe
New laughter danced and sparkled
New love was a brand new start
New pain brought back your innocence
But the tears came from your heart
I will watch that laughter, as i watched it once before
And i will see again, that love that i once saw
Yes, the pain will bring back memories, that seem to never end
But look into my eyes and see the love, felt just for you
Forever Fallingi watch from the fragile confines of my glass imprisonmement
as the harsh blades of rain beat down upon the muted surface
it blindly thrusts itself forward, thrown about by the ever anxious wind
trying in vain to penetrate my hollow second skin
Seeking Sanitywhat do i seek
i seek a world where everything is real
and where my heart will stay in one place,
and not have to be strapped down with chains of knowing
i seek solace in the art of complete confidence in oneself
and the satisfaction of near on predictable outcomes
i seek an understanding between the eyes of two seperates
and a love that can keep constant in its rationalities
i no longer want to live in a faerie tale world of make believe and intrigue
where lives twist and turn about each other and happy endings threaten
so help pull me out of this delude
for if i am forever falling inside my own sleepless dreamings
i will surely fall away from you
unpercievably changedi feel the cold collect around my fingers
as they quietly stiffen and slow with every second
and the rain falls motionless to the ground
i will wait
just like every drop of cold that falls from the sky waits to hit the desolate earth
that in turn waits for it
i will wait
"kisses"When i kiss you can you feel it?
When i kiss you can you see?
When i kiss you am i different?
When i kiss you am i me?
Do i hide behind my happiness,
Or a dark mask of despair?
Do you really think i'm precious...
When i kiss you am i there?
His LullabyHis gentle breath washes over me
All misty, warm and deep
And as soft and sweetly as a lullaby
His words sing me to sleep
A dark and murderous world
Where all of my fears do creep
Yet as soft and sweetly as a lullaby
His words sing me to sleep
I don't think I shall ever wake
From his slowly dying song
I really can't imagine
This not being where I belong
And then he disapeared
No longer mine to keep
But as soft and sweetly as a lullaby
His words sang me to sleep
*Past and Present*One hundred years ago
When summer cast golden glow
Weeping willows, river side
Cast gentle shade, punts could glide.
Mild, quiet summer day
Strawberry smell and smell of hay
Silken dress on a boat
Shaded by parasol, afloat.
Today loud music rocks river
Weeping willows really weep
T/shirt slogans, blue jean rule
Now we’re noisy but very cool.
Poem for Lou ReedTruly singular, an outsider’s outsider,
He learned well life’s hard truths, and was walking proof that
Your thoughts are only as deep as your faults.
Subjected to psychic savagery in his youth,
His mind took on an ever-changing persona
Always shifting between fame and failure.
A misfit, a hustler, a rake, a transformer,
A rogue, but not a charlatan, an objector,
But not a coward, never a coward.
An expert spinner of verse, he possessed a knack
For feel, impact, attitude, style; he always knew
Which words were those worth the listener’s while.
His means and his methods were fittingly erratic:
He would spend his days crafting curiosities
Only to then neglect and forget them.
What was important, though, wasn’t his works or quirks,
Nor his talent for causing a storm at a stroke,
But what he and his friends set in motion.
They would, unwittingly, forever change the way
We’d hear the sounds the mind thought it already kn
A Poet's EchoCan poetry be felt in the blood, in the veins
with each lyric being harmonized through dreams slain
Each epic speaking of places both far and nigh
With each melancholic elegy seeping pain?
Can verse performed by thunderstorms in the sky
Be what compels us to express our hearts, to cry?
How many poems have been written using tears
As ink, written until our souls have been bled dry?
Have decades of weeping filled the seas with our fears
And our nightmares penetrated mountains likes spears?
Can a poet's echo resound beyond the chain
Of mortality and fate's tyrannical leer?
The Beginningons ago, before time and space,
Was born a set of twins who took its place.
One had eyes of daybreak and hair of sun,
The other, hair of night and eyes of blood.
Born to Laelia, Singer of Light and Love,
Husband to Laelius, God who rules with a fitted glove.
‘Twas a difficult birth, screams echoed through the empty world,
But Laelia was never alone or so the story told.
Lucifer was first, life entered with hollow cries,
Laurentius was next, his smiles greeted by butterflies.
Both welcomed with joyous celebration.
Excited Laelius, humans, his creation.
The Twins then never left each others sides.
Except when heavy choices caused morals to collide.
Death's LoveHe obtained a frightening manifestation
And held the power of creation
Without creating a new individual but becoming something with a strong relation
That kept a sturdy foundation,
As his cells connected, broke apart, and were destroyed during his formation.
Before me he stood, light lurking within his eyes, speaking of temptation.
Then, the déjà vu was overpowering, a suffocating and heartbreaking sensation.
Death played with an individual that people see as a cremation
And how I see as a pure, devilish damnation,
Where I can only vision the house it lived in, being eaten in a conflagration.
The appearance, however, delivered me into salvation,
That, alone, was enough to wash away any frustration.
The longer I stared, the more I studied, there was an alteration
In the depths of my concentration,
Where I began to piece together an understanding of admiration
That Death had somewhere in preservation.
His corpse-like figure had the power of reincarnation
And how he changed for
Why I Hold On TighterThe gunshot echoes penetrating the air,
Increasing tensions in military warfare.
Knives that puncture and slice apart,
Fists of rage that damage skin and heart.
Explosions and smoke so sudden and fast,
No time to recover from the devastating blast.
A moment frozen in time after the disease diagnosed,
Tears falling on a body lifeless and comatose.
Car horns and screeching wheels on the pavement so loud,
Two victims of a crash of the rain from a cloud.
Though all of these things do not fill me with fright,
It is to you, my dear, they make me hold tight.
Vulnerable YouthPaper hearts from bright pink tissue meant for presents,
fanciful butterflies from orange dashed cardboard,
five petaled flowers danced around the sentence
of simplicity, ultimately to discard.
Tender thoughts from censored, guarded minds,
boldly do the simple stubby fingers strive to hide
the gift from Mommy, so that she can't find
the secret depth of the darkest snide.
The gentle pressure of acknowledging gestures
even the meaningless thank you cards
meant to send you on emotional adventures,
only to be shredded on cynical hearts' shards.
But it is the thought that counts,
those sweet little eyes haven't yet been renounced.
NeedlesThe meat is cold from bloodless lust
My organs are damaged
Path be taken down range-
-And end with chilling wall
Forest of needle spires climb
My height cannot ask
Deem the stars they point-
-For reverence physical
Destroyed as winter comes
Invested into my stock
I am bought and brought home
With no escape from the lock
Needle sew a coat of iron
Black with the char left by
Remembrance make me a scion
And kindle a soul inside
Lids have shut and no key breaks
I cannot see between blades
Cut the night to ribbons-
-Now banners to losing way
Imposing in my blindness wait
My feet are icy cold
The forward march is death incarnate-
-Though I am numb to catch
A fabric stolen mask and clothe
The boundary pointed shed
Once streamers bleeding dry wove
The semblance of disjointed ends
No try can match the mind at work
For ochre has my pallor drained
This raiment bears a doubting murk
Through glacier impassive face
My asking wanes with setting freeze
The armour frozen bites
A pleading body already w
Spinning On The EdgeTwisting and twirling
Spinning through life
Spinning and twirling
On the edge of a knife
Dancing with sorrow, dancing with grace
Dancing like blood seeping into white lace
Turning and twirling until the lights fade
Continuously spinning on the edge of the blade
Dancing the steps as if they were new
Dancing with meaning and dancing with you
Leaping and sailing 'til broken hearts meet
Endlessly spinning on two little feet
Dancing like tears glistening on skin
Dance to release the pain from within
Twisting and twirling on the edge of the knife
Spinning and twirling 'til the end of your life
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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