Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Deviation Actions

AzialSilvara

Published: Jun 2, 2012

220 Views

Literature Text

The hardest thing I've ever done
Was leaving my heart behind
I flew away with tears in my eyes
Cursing fate for being unkind

People say home is where the heart is
I've come to realize it's true
Now I've got to work to get back there
Because I can't live without you

You are the fire that consumes me
With you I've got somewhere I belong
Up north I feel so out of place
Somehow I've got to remain strong

In time I'm going to leave this all behind
I promised you I'd find a way
And you know I'm going to keep my word
Eventually I'll come down to stay

But right now I find myself in tears
I'm not ashamed to share my pain
When we parted I left my heart behind
Someday I'll feel whole once again

More by AzialSilvara

Literature

To Be In Love

I don't know what it's like to be in love Or whether I should be bothered by that or not Years ago I thought I knew But whatever I thought I knew has been forgotten When I was younger I was enthralled by it It was probably the closest thing I've done to drugs The highs were euphoric and the lows ruined me But it was just a chapter and time marched on I don't know if I'm willing to try loving again Or whether I'd let anyone get that close to me Being vulnerable is a requirement And I haven't been vulnerable in a very long time Even the concept is like a dusty old book tucked away The sort of thing put in a box and left in the attic My wi

Recommended Literature

Literature

Promise Me

If I tied you to a tree Told you to stay if you love me Would I some day return to see Your skeleton still there for me Or would you be like everybody And just abandon me? If I beat you, almost to death But then nursed you back to health Would you love me like your breath Or view me as the theft to your soul wealth? If I tied you to a tree Begged you to never leave me Would you still try to get free Never wanting to be near me Or would you wait and see If you're the one for me? If I broke your bones, Struck you with stones, Then left you alone, Would your heart still be my home? If I tied you to a tree Commanded you to wa

Literature

The Death Within Life

Raging Seas Dark skies Endless tears Cold fires That is what life is. No fairy godmothers or knights in shining armor. Only witches and cauldrons recipes for disaster. There are no three wishes or steeds that fly. No hero, no powers, certainly no rewinds. Life is but time flowing forward. Spent by little moments we call ours. It is never enough, not once. Fragments engraved they're left to remain. Not even our mind, our knowledge can prolong our hours. To live them as they come seconds remembered, never forgotten. To let them pass by our envy and our pride. No wonder we are fools both then and now. Not one of us

Literature

please let me get what i want.

For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up. I woke up with this bone-deep ache that never went away. I woke up to an incessant question playing in my mind that would never be answered. I woke up alone. For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you when I woke up at all. The thing about time is that it never does make anything better. It just means more space to think. It means sleepless nights trying to figure it all out. When it went wrong. How to make it better. It means slowly losing my mind. But it never once meant getting over you. It's funny how the things you think you've forgotten always come rushing back when you

Suggested Collections

Literature I likes

Literature

Insurrection

Insurrection Prologue The four tyrants stood over the hero's fallen figure. It had surprised them that he had put up such a fierce fight, but they had prevailed as they knew they would. The quartet were a motley group of villains the fallen hero had defeated in the past. All had been assumed dead, but they had revealed themselves to be alive and well years earlier. It had taken them until now to band together. The shortest of the four, a diminuitive Riptoc with fiery orange scales, emerald-green eyes and dressed in purple robes held his sceptre at the crumpled form's neck. He grinned revealing a row of sharp, pearly-white teeth. "Well Dr

Literature

Society Is Ugly.

Society is ugly. Not you. Beauty is defined by How you act. Not by the number on the Scale. Starving doesn't work. Purging doesn't work. Pills don't work. The girl you see In the mirror is Perfect Just the way she is Now. Don't get upset because You don't match up To the media's Expectations. Cutting won't work. Crying won't work. Dying won't work. Remember this: Society is ugly. Not you.

Literature

Jack in the Box

Jack springs out of its festive cage in the darkest corner of my bedroom, shaking off the cobwebs time and time again. Jack and I used to get along. I would reel that handle like I was using a meat grinder - showing a little resistance as I slowly cue Jack into the scene in the outside world of his circus prison. Laughs were shared... My innocence from childhood was buried in as shallow grave. Losing my smile was hard, but not as hard as finding a new one. I'm still looking. All this time, Jack is mocking me. Jack no longer needs a hand to get himself out of jail; Jack pops when he pleases and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. This i

Poetry

Literature

Ich bin

Ich bin, der kommt, ich bin, der geht, ich bin, der immer schon hier war. Ich bin, der wacht, ich bin, der spricht. Ich bin der Hauch vom letzten Jahr. Ich bin die Nacht und bin die Früh. Ich bin der Mond (die Sonne nie). Ich bin das Wort, ich bin das Buch, ich bin, der all die Worte sucht, bin der Fürimmer, bin der Moment und der die Zeit manchmal verpennt. Aber ich bin. Ich bin der, alles, der nirgendwo zu Tod betrübt und liebesfroh. Ich bin, der kommt, ich bin, der geht, ich bin, der immer bei dir war: Ich bin der Wind in deinem Haar.

Literature

A Sudden Flight

Ink-black birds scatter, Writing lines of free verse Across a paper sky.

GhostOfTheEmptyGrave on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/ghostoftheemptygrave/art/Existing-848491101GhostOfTheEmptyGrave

poetry

FridgePoetProject on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/fridgepoetproject/art/The-Daily-Magnet-164-557563602FridgePoetProject

Literature

The deluded emphasis on the reduction of pain.

The deluded emphasis, on the reduction of pain. Treating it like a cloth, with a removable stain. Hiding behind the fear, not looking away from it. The throat of your progress, ever so silently slit. To withstand suffering, you stand firmly in place. Harden your fragile mind, look chaos straight in the face. The incoming deluge, you must learn how to swim. The cost of not learning, gives you a future dim. It is not happiness, avoid not the answer. To truly enjoy life, you must be a dancer. Dance around the anguish, go with the flow of life. With perfect movement, there still is pain and strife.

Literature

covered in sand

A trail of sea shells first left behind then treasured sandy souvenirs

This poem is very personal, and very significant. For the last couple weeks I've been down south visiting the woman I love. Yesterday I had to leave and fly back to Canada, and it tore me apart. I left my heart in Mississippi.

I feel incomplete up here on my own, and it hurts. I've got a lot of work to do, lots to look into, lots to get done. But in time.. I'll get my ass down there again. I've got to be strong, and I've got to get to work. But for now.. I'm in pain. I miss her.

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License