[x]

Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
For you.

Dear fucked society,Dear fucked up society,
Why do you take our rights?
Our human rights?
To who we love?
To who we are.. To our image?
Tell me.

You force images down our throat;
Images of airbrushed, false looking
people. You want people to look
more skinny and cause anorexia,
More along the hidden line that
you dig under the ground like
a dead forgotten body yet always there

You show us that its not right to be gay,
lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered..
And then wonder why the suicide rate is
so fucking high. You cause the nightmares
and terrors of our family not accepting us
our

Telling Childhood Goodnight.They were the fearless whispers through the starless night.
They were the pounding feet through the cobbled streets,
Screaming out for everything.
They were the fleeting memories of a time long gone by,
Blown away in the wind to a far away sky,
Where the air is cold and the stars never shine.

Memories leave their traces behind,
The scars on my legs from a day long gone by.
I was climbing a rock,
That would forever leave me with a flaw.

They were the youthful cries, screaming out.
They were the glowing eyes, on a fearless march,
Racing down the cobbled streets, blazing out for all to see.
The beacon of light that is now dying out,
I never wanted it to go away.
Everything is changing at a speed I can’t match,
I am drifting further every day.

It makes me want to cry that the best and worst days of my life,
Are being pushed away with every day that passes by.
I want to hold on
But each day I lose more ground.
Soon they will be gone without even a sound.

Th

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

Silent and GoneAlong the blue streams of those who were simplistically glassed, I drag my wooden, empty coffin; it contains only my past.

For the many decades I've lengthened have expanded pain's time; across shallow mountains and beatings I prepare my final climb.

Through harsh mists and soft grasses the journey trembles on; days on end without my voices; alas, I realize they are gone.

Near all abandonment's shelter I rest without ease; my halved demon appears before me; she speaks hellishly in the breeze.

Forgiveness and hallucination she crisply burns in my eyes; I must awaken and continue, 'tis my time to remain wise.

To a judging stream near the g

I don't fight fair...Cut, bruised, scraped, forgotten. These things I have all been at least once in my life. But it
hasn't made me stronger, just more determined in my fight to live another day.
I know the ways of my attackers, studied their movements, learned their tricks and gleamed
their true motives. I have seen their weaknesses, their faults, theirs flaws and I have kept
them close to me, ready for use when the next time we meet.
They are cautious of me, they have weary from my adaptive ways, knowing that I can fall only
so many times. They are scared for I have the key to their defeat; not by sane ways, but by
the ways they fear to tread.
One look, one stare, one gesture and they will run in fear for the truth is upon them: "I won't
live restrained anymore."
"I have seen your errors an played on them like strings on a violin. Moved you to place were I
make the rules. Put you on display for all to see what you have done, and what will be done."

You ha

the carbon footprint of an arsonistyour crystal promise
rings drip off your glacial
fingers into global

nothings. the geodesic
dome you used to live in
is a hell you keep

clean-shaven and concentric,
spiraling away from you,
wrapping your unborn

children up in paper goblets.
for minimum wage, any geryon
would cling to the terza rima

inkblots on your
collarbones, his spongy molars
diving into your right

angles, his familiar laughs
killing your skin with
shivering cuddles and you

shudder, being self-diagnosed
at center of the universe,
your hair a nest of radio

waves, the one cosmic
principle drumming on the ancient
heart of mystery.

but amateur porn always
made you cry

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze

Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain

(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)

Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling

The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream

(To become whatever the second birth dictates)

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn

Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school

Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory

Ashes on the SandWe put you in
a crystal box
small enough for me
to hold in my
hands
(and that thought gives me
chill bumps)
The tide was high
where we took you
and I remember thinking
how pointless it was
(you were just going to wash
up on the shore)
Everyone was quiet
and some people cried
and as you were tossed
out to sea like so
many grains of sand
I thought how much
I missed you
(Now I think how much
I hate you
for leaving)

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The Story of the Little TreeThe tiny little tree in the wood was very cheerful for it was a beautiful little tree. A lot of animals lived in its branches and a wide stream was flowing along it. It was glad that it stood at the border of a large woodland. In autumn its little leaves were out of pure gold and did not fall off. Its little trunk was shimmering silvery. In spring great yellow blossoms unfolded which were shining far off.

But one shadow dimmed the happiness of the little tree. Bad people came and were clearing the beautiful large woodland. When the men saw the little tree they wanted to cut it by all means, for its golden little leaves could be easily turned

Gentle Power, inspiring Beauty, healing VibrationsWhen we look at crystals and their beauty, brilliancy and their pure colour or clarity takes an effect on us, we cannot only resist the fascination and attractive power that crystals have exercised on people at all times, but as well divine something of their mysterious effects.

The knowledge of the signification and powers of crystals was mostly lost in course of time, but today their original place they held in old times is restored gradually: to be helpful companions on the way to more happiness, love and fulfillment.
In former times, people have been satisfied with the intuitive grasp of these powers. Today, logical explanations are dem

My Old Friend

I just wanted to see you again, my old friend of childhood days.
I had so many things to say to you
And knew that you would understand me.
Already as a little girl I visited you
With all my problems.
I felt safe with you
And all grief flew away.
When I was weeping in your arm,
You have caressed my hair
With your green leaves,
My old friend.

Today you fell!
I came too late.
You will never sway in the wind again.
You have to lie chopped by the wayside.
Some passers-by do not respect the rest of life
And tear at your green boughs
Which bend to the earth, dying.
Who will give me the peace now
That I found in your shade

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Submitted: June 14, 2012
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My thoughts

by *Malintra-Shadowmoon, Jun 14, 2012, 12:24:32 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Where are my thoughts?
My thoughts are not here.
They are far away
And drift in the distance.

Often I lifted my head and looked up to the moon.
Often I lowered the glance and thought of somewhere else.

When - finally - when I will be there
Where my heart feels drawn to?

No answer .... silence!

My wish will only stay a dream forever.

Being captured in this body,
Being captured in this time,
Being mingled with human society,
But being remembered that I will never feel quite human.

Where I belong?
I have dreamt that dream for long
And it stays always in my mind.

But I notice clearly fine
That only the ways of nature can be mine.
Her trees give me comfort and also make me weep
Her earth lets me grow and gain strength to share
Her water lets me live the flux of life
And her air lets me breath the soft wind
That touches my skin.

I clearly see the light of moon and stars
Left for me in the sky to show me my path
I can see it, I will follow it,
Will find friends, will seek truth in this world ... in this life -
There will be a place for me, too.

And there will be a light in the sky,
Illuminating me,
A light only a few humans can see
But those cast out, standing in the dark will feel
And so I will keep on dreaming the dream
That will stay in my memory still for long time.

My thoughts will find their way home
To where they and I belong and can be free -
My thoughts and me....

My thoughtsby *Malintra-Shadowmoon

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Some feelings and thoughts of an otherkin...

love 1 1

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~dogyjoe Aug 18, 2012 General Artist

Nicely written. I like your style, your work(s) have a lot of massage(s) within.

*Malintra-Shadowmoon Aug 18, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks that you like it. I see it as my task to write thought inducing things and will probably increase it as I see a difference in provoking musing or in describing my feelings. But good to know that my feelings make people think, too

~dogyjoe Aug 18, 2012 General Artist

In every poem or story there is or are messages within the lines, and it is also written with purpose for others to understand or to help them along there path. Hope it is understandable what I wrote

~KodokuNoNana Jun 26, 2012 General Artist

Lovely ideas. I like your style

*Malintra-Shadowmoon Jun 26, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks for your comment. But this is no style. Those are just my feelings, nothing else, clad in words, perhaps to make people better understand...

~KodokuNoNana Jun 26, 2012 General Artist

Yes, I agree, but even without realizing it..every person has its own style in everything,especially in art. That's what makes us different.

~SeraBerry Jun 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Beautiful imagery.
This is great!

*Malintra-Shadowmoon Jun 21, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks a lot for your kind comment

*Malintra-Shadowmoon Jun 14, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Comments and feelings are always welcome

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