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The call of the winter storm
Draws over the piercing winds
Hardening my soul all yet again
Leaves have drifted
A fallen on the ground
Forbidden imprints upon stolen means
Frostbitten shards are weary
Sheltering the old from new
Redeeming the souls of life another
If my heart were to be iced over
Like that of the bluish moon
Then the rains would cease falling
They would become sculpted
Into crafted works
All established by nature's design
Eccentrically set in place
Every flake unique in taste
As life's cold measures commence
The world seems to be all but still
As the night blurs on
To reveal the winter celebration
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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