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Love's Love Letter from the HeartbrokenLest by some ugly turn
Or twist of hideous fate
I do not achieve what I yearn
For the hardships are too great
And the road is too long
and I carry too many crosses
And I'm too weak to be strong
And my gains become my losses
Then let this be my reminder:
This moment of clarity.
Where I remove the cynical blinder
And remember Love's charity.
That I feel the warmth of a stranger
And I see the cold for the season
That I feel trust despite the danger
And I see the pain for all its reason
That I hear the laughter of a child
As the original Sacred Prayer
And that moment which she smiled
I felt that G-d truly cared.
That I inhaled the rain as it fell
And reveled in its scent
That I found myself in its smell
From my childhood fondly spent
That I touched you in spring streams
And buried you in the leaves of Fall.
That I tasted you in dreams,
Especially those I don't recall.
That I have loved all of the above
And will find myself again inside Her
So if you ever forget me, Love,
Let this mo
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
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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