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Writing - 14h 23min afterKneeling beside your bed, my knees sore and numb from the cold linoleum floor. The sounds of the machines creating an ambiance unlike most soundtracks-- something I never want to hear again. I swallow softly; my arms folded on the white thin sheets my forehead resting on my forearms. I won't move. I will not leave you. Not until I feel your fingers in my hair, tracing the soft dark curls that cascade on the white sheets like ink paintings. I need to feel your touch, your hand resting on my head, forgiving my sins, letting me finally know I did something right. I came to you. I came and stayed by your side like I always promised I would. Forever willing to be by your side, through pain and fear I will never leave. I will never move until you tell me you are alright.
Writing - 1A sob erupts from the dark entry, the rain spattering over the cold pavement; yellow street lamps casting haunted shadows down the empty warehouse street. The sound of the skytrain in the distance and sticky car tires going over the downtown streets only a few blocks away. A shaking breath reaches the ears of the rats, the only residence; the next sob scattering them.
Slowly, drops of the winter rain fall from the archway soaking the shoulder of her coat, her light brown hair damp and messy. Her knuckles bloody as she covers her ears tightly, curled into a ball. Whats wrong a sadistic voice slips through her fingers and she sobs again, her hands shaking. We only have each other. Why do you try to shut me out The voice pauses and her heart beats faster, her body shivering. I am the only one who understands you. The cold voice soothed. It slips over her skin like ice cold water. She cries out shaking her head, keeping her eyes shut tight.
Poetry - 5Through confusion, pain
I thought you were like me.
Alone; full of fear.
You smile and take me
Under your ebony wing,
sheltering me from the light.
Teaching me the ways
to be nothing.
To dance in the streets
without being noticed.
To scream and curse
without people hearing.
I've felt like this before
Like an angel,
I slept safe in your arms.
My heart finally in a place
where I thought it would be
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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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