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This is For YouThis is for the boy with the cracks on his hands and a splintering face,
the lovely girl feeling not-so-lovely anymore-
the boy with his hands locked high over his head,
unlock them. Unlock doubt and inhibitions-
For the girl who said THIS IS MY FIRST SCAR.
like she wanted more to come-
For the man who knew that if there ever was a time to seize the day,
that time was here and now and never. That time was her
snow-white blouse against her snow-white skin and her fingers
trickling down his spine-
I see the world through your hands, your fingertips, your pores.
I saw you dancing on the spouting gravel,
entwined in roots and feet and H2O.
You were a defiant stare and an intervention,
you had a silken voice: purling, purging,
stealing lines from famous songs. On tip-toes
and backbone, you stretched and reached and
cried like you had no remorse
-or too much of it.
Call her drunk, she likes thatYou could call her drunk, call her sober or three hundred doves,
dying, bird flu intoxicated and drowning in the deep end of the pool,
chlorinated. You could call her drunk, but she wouldnt understand your words,
and youd be slurring again. Shes talking fine. Shes twenty rubber bands,
snapping all at once.
You could call her drunk, but you cant remember her number.
You could call her drunk but shes just a little tipsy at this hour, too wild
to be wasting away. You can see her wasting away, but now there are three
of her and you dont remember if she chugged the bottle
or if it was you.
It doesnt really make a difference.
this is the sound of stars
screaming like fireworks, and
mangled promises spilling
through trainwreck teeth. this
is the sound of lungs filling
with air and girls with brown
eyes and the whisperwhisper
of sheets on skin.
i have never heard a more eloquent silence.
this is not me, this is
the purple-blue of midwest
sunsets and the hope found
between quintessential smiles
and blinding neon lights. this
is the amount of air between
worlds and words and the freckles
on your left shoulder. this is not me.
but i promise you, someday i will be incredible.
you are filled with delicate bones
and inchoate dreams, and maybe
someday you will turn your suppressed
screams into more then just an escape
route. maybe someday you will finally
see your elegant imperfections and
enchanting eyes and you will realize that
you are beautiful.
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More