This is a weekly feature of amazing literature that I come by during my
travels across deviantART. this is only a small sample of a vast amount
of wonderful pieces of literature written by absolutely fantastic
writers. Each deviation was carefully selected from a writer's gallery
based on structure, impact and word usage. I will never feature the
same person twice, so check out these wonderful writers now while you can!
there is a wilderness in my body& a compass in my elbow :thumb335962169:
tugging my body achingly
north. if love
could carry a woman I would find you
where the magnetic fields bend
and break against the atmosphere,
cradle the northern lights
in my lungs, stretch your skin
tight across the tundra,
how to write a love poem(only if you want to fail)You gave me a piece of paper,
And told me to write a poem
so I bent, broke, twisted the harmless thing
Used the ink as glue
And made us paper wings
You whispered, "let's go"
Standing on the edge of the world
then we jumped
hanging by a contraption
of the figments of my imagination.
We were flying so high
We said we'd never come down
Just as the sun burned away the paper.
One precious moment of paradox
It's a pity we remembered to die
before we came crashing to the ground.
The sensation would've been something
wake.but i'm a rabbit.
wide-eyed, bated breath pink. a rabbit choking on lavender fumes, 'honey just suckle' sweet. a child in the dark.
i'm a rabbit-
i'll bolt, any moment- i feel it trembling, shaking inching down my legs, swimming in denile.
that joke just isn't funny anymore. there was a river, dark and fast- more than one of me laughing, talking too fast. rabbit heart, and i still can't keep up.
i told you, good intentions- i'll hang. swing, swing.
i am a rabbit, tremors and all. quick mouth, quick quick, tell me the truth.
you are corrosive- i can't move- but you're right.
alwaysalways- i sit and watch your butterfly fingers take away the sky. my sky.
butterfly fingers and traps, you smile. i believe you, again, again.
i'll keep you safe, and tear each layer of skin for your security. i'll keep you whole, lending bones for the window pains
don't you remember- you looked out the window, don't forget. counting, counting, knowing that somewhere t
my best friend, upstairsi am not the sad girl at the party
lying crying in the bedroom
in the dark and wishing
someone would come in and
put their arms around me tell me
everything will be alright again
tomorrow so i wish that they would
stay and say they love me but i
watch them walk away like
everybody always does, even a
drunken slurred 'i love you' is worth
more than what i have, but
i am not the sad girl at the party
i'm the one inhaling powders and
i'm choking pills down
life and soul
a wicked bitch
who dares to
keep a secret
and i'm waiting for the
tonne of bricks to fall.
Slutit implodes on the walls of your skull
and slides, sickly
off your tongue
like the body of a slug.
when it hits the floor
it is not quiet,
but sharp as a slap
and totters out of
they are disgusting
and you are ill.
there is no more room
washed away by the slime
coming out of your pores.
the fault is yours
or rounder or
me) by the
and no certain
ty or cough
Painting ThunderstormsI will remember you in flowers, dead and never given.
We are broken promises and shattered glass.
In your traitorous arms,
I wish I'd never closed my eyes,
You are like all good headaches
in that, you will fade away,
In painkillers and flowers on a grave.
deny-dissociate-disengagedear you, blind eyed fools, you, afraid of things that don't understand themselves. we are the perpetually cold, the ones the world has robbed blind, the ones who will never come to terms with ourselves [the world is so dark]
let me tell you about love and life and beauty and glamour, let me tell you about these things from the cheap seats, let me tell you how they blotted us out how they quelled our whispers how they pacified our hunger how they lied lied lied and told us we'd be fine, let me tell you.
the moon pulls us in tides to the water's edge where our changing room hearts are coughed up onto the salted swell, do you see, do you ever go to the beach at night and watch as the old man with the guitar just cries and cries?
we are bones disguised as living flesh we are in the broken radiator tenement buildings that threaten collapse at the impact of the world pressing down down down and smothering crushing breaking we are the night shift daylight fearing weary eyed razor tongue
Please this news article so that it will be read by more people!