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About Literature / Hobbyist Deejae HarperFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 2 Years
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Statistics 106 Deviations 11 Comments 7,011 Pageviews

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Start with "the day I died."
Then spin a story without truth.
Tell them that you loved a Rose,
Her hair like molten stone,
Tell them all the ways she smiles,
Even when alone.
Tell them how you made her blush,
until her dying day.
Tell them how you rue the words,
that made her run away.
Tell them how you ripped her up,
With words made out of bone.
Tell them how you held her head back,
When you took the Tone.
How her lipstick smeared like died blood,
Her nose no longer straight,
How you blamed her for everything,
Her looks, her friends, her weight.
Tell them how you almost died,
when you saw her in that bed,
tell them how you lived on,
But Rose stayed dead.
The Moon~ Deejae Harper

Tuxedo Mask, I loved you well,
Through interstellar perils.
School girl skirts and make-up powers.
With you, I ruled the stars.
Fighting for the right to stand by you,
My king without a kingdom.
You carried roses in your car,
"For my rabbit in the moon."
You called me your bunny,
Your silly little dream.
But the roses never added up,
I did not want to see the truth.
They were never just for me,
but a hundred other girls,
With smiles empty of shame,
and names I could not pronounce.
Seventeen years I wasted,
Tied to this track,
Waiting for reality to hit,
Like a training coming back home.
I wish you the best!"
She started to cry.
"These were never my wings.
This was never my cowl."

She takes these moments,
Salts the wounds,
Weeping for salvation,
A god long dead.

"Isn't it silly.
Screaming at an empty sky.
Waiting for aliens and a magic ball?
Isn't it silly, that we are never happy,
Never full, never empty, always wrapped,
Like presents for a spoiled child.
Can't we be happy,
Can't we be sad,
Why do we have to play these games,
For a nameless crowd?"
Little girl,
I desire nothing,
But her life.

Kiss her neck,
Raise up a woman,
Dark wary things,
Just the frame,
Of their once glorious wings.

God doesn't wear slicks,
He doesn't put down a towel,
Or make her shower before,
He blesses her.

Hallow hollows,
He wants it rough,
Tells her she is someone else.


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Deejae Harper
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States

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breebird Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2014
Thanks for the watch!!!!
Ciele-arts Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2014
Thanks for the watch :hug:
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