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Every day I look out from my birdcage, to the world unknown…
Every day I read a book, telling of their tales all alone…
Every day I remember I would escape from my room, wondering off on my own…
Every day they would bring me back from my imaginary brook, out from my comfort zone…
Every day I use to try to break open my unlock door, and yell in an unimaginable tone…
Every day I wondered if there is more to life than everyone forsook, changing myself and give atone…
Every day they tell me what I am as I shook, hating what I already know…
Every day at night the last thing I say is "I'm sorry… for what I took…", of their joy since my birth but they condone…
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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