it is debatable between what you deserve and what you have been deprived of :5:

*hugs* 'tis Deadly Reaper, don't worry for I understand clearly what you've said. My dear. . . a poem is only what you make of it, writing may guide you to an imaginative exit from the tormenting thoughts of every day. It makes sense; you flow with the mind and the inspiration therefore a greatness of talent is born, the best poems are the ones that flow. For example if you don't have to stand there about five minutes waiting for the next stanza instead, you flow like gentle streams, or violent ones, and let us say this in bulgar vocabulary. . . "You vomitt your feelings into the paper" What I've said about you is only the small picture of you, there are many things I can see. . . You are wise Yuui, very talented and you can see things that not many of us dare to see, thus you write for our simple eyes to see the greatness of the world, Yuui you might have a lot of things going through your head, and as poet, you have to deal with it, we are the ones who paint the feelings of the rest. I should know, I get confused many times and sometimes I feel a pain that I cannot recognize because it never belonged to me. As you write these feelings out, my great poet, you are slowly escaping those feelings, and until you are satisfied you will finally breathe.

I do not regret ever saying anything that I said about you and to this day I believe that you are one of the greatest writers on the forums.

As always, your work is most beautiful sweetheart. You are an inspiration to me.

x

I hope your thoughts are able to flow like the river inside of you..your visions of blue...an impression you have left on many..though I know you would say that you don't see how...I see you flowing softly over rocks molding them to your path

Astarael: maybe so...

DeadlyReaper: mm...I can't say that the pain isn't my own...but that is a story I am not willing to tell. All I can say that it won't fade until I find the end of my road...anyway you give me so much kindness, I really do not know what to say, but thank you...

star_69: oh! thank you so very very much, your words means a lot

Buddha: I am with out rivers, rocks or landscape...I am but nothingness.

you are welcome my friend, I hope you get better.

you are welcome my friend, I hope you get better. *lays on the sofa next to her and falls asleep waiting for her friend to come back soon better*

*smiles* thank you...well it isn't about getting better, it's about learning to live with it...

Yuui..... smile :icon12:

now I am confused

Okay this one I can’t simply give any name…that would make me seam some what…hem insane. A total nutcase, not that it is nothing new about that…well read it if you like, even if you come this far, reading this and deciding you don’t want to read the poem, well thank you for coming by or for not coming by…


over and over
my fingers pierce my dreams,
sweet tender sleeping feel…

my lines are printed on this page,
my heart aches.
I am trying to form words…as my body cries,
my chest compress.
No tears, though, leave’ my eyes.. still I feel them fall.
So much pain,
it’s so hard to breath..

sweet lonesome dream.. come to me
become real…
I close my eyes…and I pretend
that you can feel me,
me feel you…

a burning feel of liquid pain creeps in-under my skin,
as I search for a way…to you, sweet loving one.
Cause in you
the end of my journey is existing..
in you
I know my Home is resting…

and all of us want a home to come back to :5:

mm...if you have found that which you call home, I guess so...

i wish i had someone to come home to *sighs*

YUUI!!! I have long since been to this part of vampires.com and the first thing I see when I get here is you. I'm debating wether to try and get back into writing myself and by the way you're work is as wonderful as usual.

depressedlittlegirl08: thank you, my friend...I've missed you, you know.
well just do what feels right my friend...and if that is to write again, then that is great, cause I mist your words, my friend...

mm...well you know Astarael, you at least call something home...I know, I can't really tell if you do, but it seams like you do have some feeling of home. even though it might not be any one there waiting for you. Me I have never had that kind of feel...you know: this is Home! but maybe that is cause I don't define home like everyone else, or maybe it is cause I really never felt at home at any place I ever lived or been at...all I can remember is that when I was little, when I lived in the house...I would wake up crying, wishing no beging "someone" to show me the way home..."this isn't home, I wane go home...home, I wan't to go home" and I have never found it, maybe I never will...so I am hoping that I am right about you, that you have a feel of: this is home...

sorry i haven't been here for awhile, but your writing is truly amazing, and i do like your outlook on things

why my words? heh.. i'm surprised you remembered me

u know thats too wierd..cause when i was little.
i always said..'i just want to go home..I dont belong here'
no one ever wonderd why i said that.but i did for years
and years..untill i reached a point that,
'there is no home for me...what i want does not exsist'
mmmm...*sighs*

CSAsniper00: don’t worry about it, and don’t be sorry, cause that you come here at all is more then I can ask for. So thank you, for your kind words and your presence. Hem…my out look on things? Could you elaborate that a little more?

Depressedlittlegirl08: why not your words? And why so surprised? Of course I remember you…why wouldn’t I?

I still love these lines:

What is with people today?
What’s up with this un-humane way?
I’m an outcast in this nation.
Born into a fucked up generation.

…and if I am not mistaken, they are all yours…

BD: mm… not that strange, I think. I am just sad that you are feeling the same thing. Although I am still searching, unwilling to let go. Cause some where in my mind I know that out there somewhere my Home is resting…and I don’t think it is a place… and I am sorry to hear, that no one ever listened and responded, I guess there is some reason for that. Maybe for us to understand that we aren’t as different or lonely, as some may think, don’t you think?

more of your words is what I want..though you may not know or understand why..still..it is what I want

And this is Thread of the Week.... congratulations, Yuui.

It. . . is not a physical structure that you call home but a mental state that allows you to be in peace. . . . That is what I call home, I've been around for a long time, a lot of places, yet to me home has become what I believe is. . . death, maybe you will not understand it but that is my opinion. Yuui, I feel happy when you say that you are not willing to let go, who knows maybe it is still there. Yes. . . my friend, dream. . .

Congratulations on thread of the week, dear!





beautiful piece, you used personification, on this poem, something about your skill mesmerizes all of us, Yuui you are so deep. . . .

Buddha: I have no words to give…pleas do not ask me to give what I can’t give you.

Archangel: *falls of my chair* you got to be jockeying… me, the thread of the week, I do not know what to say…thank you so very much, although I do not understand why…thank you.

DeadlyReaper: well, I know it isn’t any dream, when I have a feeling about something then that is how it is. I just wonder if I will ever come to find it... but I am glad to hear that you have the feeling, of home…

Thank you... but I think you would deserve it more then I…

Hem…I wouldn’t know about that, so I have to take your word for it, but deep…well I am just writing about what I see, sometimes what I feel or know. And I guess life is deep.. anyway thank you so much for your kindness, it means so much to me.

well yuui i suppose i have always had a feeling of home because my bedroom was the one place i could always run to.. to hide.. to cry.. to be with those who i cared for.. and it was mine.. something i could call my own.. i suppose that made it special..

i am sorry you have not found your home.. but i will speak to you words of wisdom that i take to heart as well.. even if you do not have a place to materialize.. make your home in your mind.. that way no matter where you go or what happens.. you have that one refuge to keep your secret thoughts and your hearts desires.. :5:

wow yuui...a special thread is YOUR thread...ooooo cool!
--
well,no need to feel sorry..im just here to wait
for whatever that ends my life..again.
live to die as to die to live.
i donno about you but..i think that i may be soooo diffrent
that wherever my home is,is not anyplace..u know?
ptttt im confusing myself even.
somtimes..though i think maybe my home was destroyed,
or maybe that i need to learn somthnig before i go back home.
but thoes are just stupid unreal dreams.
well for me.what i think for me....uhhh yeah.
i hope u find your home someday,
and be at peace with life.

Depressedlittlegirl08: why not your words? And why so surprised? Of course I remember you…why wouldn’t I?

Erm..My words have disappeared I guess. I don't know why you wouldn't remember me...just avoided this place for so long don't know how many people do.

Astarael: mm…that hem I don’t know seems to be a nice feeling… to know that you have that space, that is.

*smiles* well there is no need to be sorry, it is how it is…and yea that is the way it will be until I find Home. You see it isn’t that I don’t have Home, I know it is out there some where. I just have to find it…

BD: yea…I guess I am the thread of the week, hem our were…

Yea I know what you mean…I think my Home will be found in that which is a living space, not a still place.
…no dream is unreal, all you have to do is live it…and in time you will see that your reality is the dream you always wanted it to be… well, I will find it, I have to find it…it is why I live, that I know. And thank you for you kindness my friend…

depressedlittlegirl08: *smiles* well I guess that I am not people then…



Tender fingers…
caressing my twilight ecstasy
a sweet pulsing pain, that moves in-under the skin
screaming to be free

…in a fogged delirium
the rain paints the walls, in a wonderful redness
I need more wetness To fill my addiction
my lips meet Silent Misty Razorblade kisses

…ripping like knifes…
the pale flesh lovingly parts
letting the liquid flood the floors
…until the panic flees.

I plunge deep inside my art
wondering inside a landscape of solitude
a painted wall
I so fondly disappear into…

my prob is..that i cant not live my dream,
cause somthing is always there to smash it down.
every single time!so i wait till my dream comes
to me to start it cause then i know it ready,
to come true.if its ever ready before im too old
to give a shit anymore.
---
i like the poem...ir diffrent..nice.

mm…well then I will hope it will come to you in a hurry… thank you, my friend. Yea, I know.. I really do not know why I wrote it. not even what it is about, I know. I get one feel of it in the first stanza, and then it all changes… anyway.. I am glad that you like it.

a bloodstain on the wall..... i love your last poem.. so tragic and full of pain.. yet full of some despairing beauty that is hard to place.. wonderful :5:

hi babe i can't wait for more and good job at thread of the week u deserve it

wow..amazing to me...though I know you don't agree...please allow me to see what I want to see..and be where I want to be....

thank you Astarael... well this poem, I myself, am not sure of. the pain is there, and maybe the beauty of life it self...I can't really say much more.

dark_angel55: well I am afraid you have to wait for some while now, cause IT'S SNOWING... I am sorry what I meant to say is that for the moment I have nothing to write.

Buddh: I can't stop you, you do what you like... and thank you so very much.

I’ve shut the lights, like I always close my eyes
it’s hard to pretend that the cuts don’t become me
while the pain so adoringly floats on the surface
of my rivered skin
I am no longer in command, over these scarring feelings
I am the puppet, and strings controlled by fear
binds the strongest of persistence
sooner or later we all break the moral rules
and just try to get by
to survive the lonely nights, with ghostly lights
and voices that scream to be seen
I close my eyes, and pretend that it isn’t me…

wow...that one blew me away.
very good.

blew you away hu? *smiles some* well thank you for such a nice thing to say. I really do appreciate your words. they mean a lot to me, thank you my firend.

iloveeee that last one

Thank you so very much, dark_angel55 it means a lot.

The graves I pass, are non for me.
I never meet anyone of them, laying under these grounds.
Though many times I have fallen asleep,
next to their names,
with a hand on stone.
Dusky nights, damp Falls with cascading rain.
Tears descending from the havens, crying for so many lost,
so many forever forgotten.
But I know their names, and I won’t forget.
I have them painted on my walls,
red chalked remembrancess.
One day maybe you will find your way inhere,
onto the wall.
Become a piece of this dead puzzle…

In company of the moon I light a cigarette,
it is just an end, but it is all I got.
The short warmth, between my fingers,
takes me back to the church with so many candles.
There in the middle of nothing,
on a hill without and trees
it stands in complete silence.
Always closed and never anything inside.
Except for the burning candles…
It gave you a warming feel, ..maybe a sense of belonging.
To bad I can’t remember the road back.. to middle of nothing,
to the hill without any trees.

My eyes leaves the glowing end, and find what I am looking for.
The wind weepingly sings.
It is somewhat laughable.
No one will ever hear his words.
Still he sings until the branches squeak,
at times making them break.
A divine wind spreading the word
of what is yet to come…

She’s been sleeping for a while now, it is time to wake her up.
The ending is far from arriving.
It will be far worse then this.
Smiling some I tap on her shoulder,
and whisper into her ear.
“time to go little one, your blue eyes have something to see,
and your heart something to feel”

In the shadows I remain, as she wakes-up
and leaves this yard of dead.
So precious, ..though no one will ever come to call her their own.
Oh she is a beauty of dark shades and moonlight fairness.
Painted to be a charcoal image
Lines so lovingly caressed,
by an unknown artist, on a street called Somewhere.
To bad that he will lose it to the gutter, on a rainy day.
Silently it will float away,
down into the river,
down in-under the currents.

She will though one time more return to this place.
Once more come into my vision.
Eventually we all comeback to the beginning of our end.
We always go back in time,
trying to find the wrong turn,
the one thing that got us here.
We seek to find the beginning,
like the man in the city,
standing on the tallest of buildings.
He thought he could fly, touch the sky,
and be saved from all life’s pain.
Now he is just hanging there, …in the middle of the air.
He is trying to remember the reason for his misery.
But it will take his whole life to see,
the beginning of his end...

Spinning, ..the world was spinning
in a distorted fusion.
While the voices whispered
in a bound darkness,
when bleeding nails scratched the concrete-walls.
Her white dress torn,
her skin ripped under the white glares,
stones tugging the flesh,
words eating her away in a non living moment.
It possessed her in a strange love affair,
and the torment.
The never-ending torture,
she couldn’t find the way-out,
and so the blackness found her.
She fell, …fell into the abyss of sleeping.

The raven leaves her shoulder,
and her murderer’s last kiss have not yet ended.
Frozen in time,
she is coming back now.
Coming into my vision, once more.
Oh how I’ve missed her.
It is time to meet her, ..to feel her heart.
To let her sleep inside my arms.
So preciously her pules is beating,
as she sleeps, with the stones.
She now knows, what we all will come to know…

Once more I whisper inside her ear
“time to go little one, your blue eyes have something to see,
and your heart something to feel”.
And her big eyes open,
she smiles somewhat understanding.
“Will you come with me?” she says.
I look into the nothingness.
“You found what you’re looking for, then?”
She hesitates, before letting her voice speak in whisper
“Yes, I’ve found what I am looking for”.
I hold her close for the last time,
and gaze inside of her.
My lips part,
I can feel her heart.
So small and fragile,
I wish life wouldn’t be so cruel.
That she wasn’t apart of this dead puzzle.

With our hands entwined
we leave,
taking a walk down to her end,
to her last moment.

We take our places,
and let it all end.

It wasn’t the feel or the taste
of iron inside her mouth
it was the sound.
That cold pulsing sound vibrating through her spine,
with its hard tapping hands.
Which made her grab the reality; she was still alive.
Throbbing, clinging her hands to her ears,
the cutting sound got louder.
It consumed her, as she screamed for the silence.
Her ragged body twisted, shacked on the floor.
While she tried to kill the bleeding sound,
with her pounding heartbeats.
The damp, dark coldness embraced the room.
Held that unnatural feel of it all,
while the dirt painted the concrete-walls with her staining cries.

Long chilly fingers reached out and touched her cheek.
Frosty caresses planted with a crimson smile
bound her in stillness.
The closed black eyes opened
and found a white pare searching for the innocence.
Lost inside the light she could feel the escape coming closer.
That bright feeling of freedom,
when a dark arctic voice filled her.
- Little doll, what is it that you are hiding?
Her eyes widen, got big and endless.
He lost himself in them.
His lips parted, still with a small smile.
And she could feel his frozen breath close to her skin.
The damp feeling of snow touched her,
and the light grew bigger,
when she found no way out from his white abyss.
– It hurts!
– Hush, don’t you worry anymore…

His lips left her cold and silent.
on that concrete floor,
a dirty rage-doll feeling no more pain
and he already missed her.
She had been a good puppet,
in his own way he had loved her.
He took a last glance of her beauty
before he left.
Steeped out into the fogy night
and disappeared in the shadows,
peering for a new ending…

that was awesome

thank you my firend

Denaing who you are. I think ever body does that. Maybe it's just human nature. A sign for all to start a new. It's when that crule reality slips in and we see a monster in our self. Some times I wonder? Why people cut.. whats the breaking point in most of us? Ever wonder that? Or are you one who just go about daily life Looking out for number one. I think thats the problem. We are to busy complaining about ourself to take notice of others. Ever just sit and thought about it? The inpulses in our brain fuctioning just to allow the blood to pump from our heart. ever wonder when that inpulse will stop?
*touches forehead* heh.. I guess you prob don't see the connection I got from your poem. In a single instint when connection is form and I grasp the reality that you wrote. A trigger of thoughts float into my mind. Questions apon questions. Thats it in a nut shell.. You hit it stright on the head. How it feels? What it's like? But i can't even beging to understand the why? The breaking of that moral rule.
anyways.. Hope i didn't confuse you to much
~adora~

ah I feel so ashamed of being absent for so long.......

Narti, you don't confuse me. I understand what you say, even see it. the why is the reason for the poem, people seldom see the why. cause they can't understand that there are a reason for the problem/doing. the why though is always different from person to person, and I don't have any answer.

so then we come to me, do I see others, or think of me? I think I do both, at times it is hard to think about others. maybe cause the darkness comes to fast, I can't tell you why... I guess some times we get to involved in our own problems, and it is hard to find a way out.


Donavan: don't feel that way, my friend. you come when you feel you have time and want...I don't...hum... I've said this so many times, but that you come at all is more then I can ask for. there for do not worry about it.

I swear an angel wrote the last

This piece. . . it is so interesting and might I say long! Nevertheless, the whole meaning to it, became clear as I started to come to the end of it. A man. . . searching for deaths or as the poem says "new ending" The little girl, has been robbed of her innocence, very beautiful, I loved it. You are a great writer dear, I cannot imagine how much your talent is, for I could never be able to carry it in my fingers, you are truly an amazing poet.

i absolutely adore your last poem.. it was wonderful :5:

dark_angel55: no angel did write those words... although I thank you for such kind assumption of me. But I do asure you, I am no angel. not even close. just ask Buddha…

thank you DeadlyReaper/death_victorious... in away you are right, there is a girl who loses her innocence, and you have death there too…but death and the I character is not the murderer, not really anyway. You see the girl and death/ the I are one and the same. And the murderer is really just there to create her end… you see, she is the one that talks to us, she is the one that speaks of her self, to understand the why. And then when she finds the answer she becomes one, and the murderer takes her life, and continues to seek for his next victim. Still the I character also becomes death, cause she is dead/death. She isn’t really alive, she is just remembering her beginning. I know that this doesn’t make any real sense, maybe cause I really can’t explain it. anyway thank you so very much for your kind words, my friend.

Thank you so very much, my friend Astarael. Your words means so much to me…