|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Take Nothing For GrantedMay 1, 2006
Last night, I talked to a friend on CoH that I met even before I had my own account. He is only a few years older then me. Maybe in his 20's. He had a girlfriend, from what I am to understand, that he met her in CoH. He lived in the USA while she lived in Belgium. Like all couples, they would have liked to see each other. So, he went to Belgium to visit her--and he did. The two had fun together while it lasted. Until she had died. She died in his arms and there was nothing he could do. Helplessly, he watched her die. The young woman, who was only around five years older then me, died of a blood clot in her leg. This blood clot took it's vicious chance and went to her heart. Then she went into a major cardiac arrest.
Funny how a simple little trip can be the most hurtful, how life can be taken away so instantnously.
I'm writing this because I would be too miserable if Seph or a close friend of mine died in my arms. Sometimes I think I take things too for granted. I always ov
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
Keep in Touch!
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