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On the Way to DeathOn the Way to Death
I rode my tricycle over the gravel and the neighbors dogs barked as I passed every morning.
The days were long and grand yet I hurtled too quickly through them;
Kites streaming in the ripping wind, and a child lets go of the string
August 18thAugust 18, 2009
So much to do, so little time. Theres a reason it became a phrase. Theres never enough time, though the clock ticks steady and slow like the beat of my heart in my chest-something that goes on forever, it seems Yet I know Forever only lasts as long as you can mouth the words
Have you ever lain restless in bed, staring at nothing through the heavy darkness as the shadowy silhouettes of your furniture loom at the corners of your eyes like silent sentries, and you strain to hear something, anything in the darkness? And you hear something, a muffled staccato something as you draw the sheets close. Its the clock sitting on your dresser, just like it always has. It ticks softly, but suddenly you hear nothing but the ticking. It keeps you awake at night, it tears through the dark and silence. Obsession. It drives you mad, it ticks away the seconds you have in th
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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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