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One day we'll lose our way.
One day I will float away and forget the troubles and stresses of my day,
I'll move with the waves and shine with the sea,
I'll lie back, i'll hide so they can't see me.
So for now - I'm waiting for that one day,
Where I will try my hardest...just to lose my way.
Counting freckles.It is like a dream that never ends
Quiet, xylophone notes play in my mind when I wake up,
Ease me out of a gentle slumber weaved in his arms.
His soft hair, his soft expression burrowing into the floral covers
My middle name is "Fidget" according to James.
I earnt the title from many quiet nights, quiet cuddles disturbed by my restlessness.
Today I am still and besotted by the echoing of heartbeats.
The sun breaks through the lavender-summer-inspired curtains.
The bounty of sun on that fresh summer's day,
We glowed, squinted as we gazed at each other on the bright, humid day sitting in the picnic
I begun to count his freckles on his arm when he grabbed my hand and begun to tickle me,
I laughed uncontrollably but it was James' laughter that echoes through my mind now,
His laughter was like an unwritten symphony which triggers this smile across my face.
Im sure the green eyed monster haunted the onlookers that day. Im sure of it.
A smile I chose not to accompany wi
Down and out.
Kaleidoscopes change, hearts break, seasons change.
Click once, click away colours, oranges turns to greens, purples to blues, just so many colours..too many emotions. To click once, will click those colours away, you'll never see me again.
It's this time of year again, the time where batteries run out of energy, and bulbs begin to fade, the spiders climb back into the cold dark corners and capture the flies that once flew through the open windows.
One fleeting afternoon, I somehow forget to tick, no longer a kaleidoscope I stay in my pyjamas, sit on the kitchen floor running my finger across his face. He is framed, under a slab of glass, untouchable, somehow, gone? I look up and suddenly I'm sitting on this park bench, where it was HIM who cried, not me, but HIM. He cried, held his head in his hands, and it was me who patted him patronisingly on the knee like the bitch I was, 'you know it could never work anymore, you do know that?' i whispered into his ear as i shushed him and his we
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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