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.the world is protesting;
screaming and shouting and
shaking and heaving, pouring
it's molten red heart out
and i do not want to be laid
to rest with a great grey slab
weighing me down, and i will
not be burned again, so i think
i'd like to sleep in nature's
bed, yeah he can take me, remove
my layers one by one and powder
my bones with lichen
(the world doesn't like waiting for anyone)
.she told me i had soft palms,
i said yeah but i've got a hard
heart, because when
i was young i got given
two goldfish, and one day the
big ate the little
and that's when i learnt i'd
be fucked by the world, it would
do the same thing to me too
(i heard the language of evil and i started to speak it, saw the actions of evil and i started to be it)
.at night, something mad
climbs into bed with me and
i go to war with myself -
words i do not want sit on the tip
of my tongue, so i bite the whole
thing off - crimson droplets fall
from the sky, and i start bleeding
rain - dead babies, their heartbeats
slipping through the cracks in my
floorboards - kettles abandoning
pots and then finding that neither
can function properly - white sheets,
pillowcases, walls and white faces -
a rabid cat clawing at the inside of
my temple, let me out - krill in the
bellies of whales, their hearts like
empty lockets - suffocating in the
silver lining - secrets giggling like
children in my mind, a game of hide
and seek i don't think i want to win -
a lamb frolicks around the body of a
lion and i reap something i never
even sowed in the first place
(you idiot, you idiot, what have you done)
.you should have
emerged with life; your
little roots should have
clutched the soil in their
tiny white fists, and
i did not mean to trample
you, i did not mean to
let my body kill
long as it's
on his terms
and i've a
if i just play
by the rules
.my mother said it's rude
to write in red, i said well
please tell that to my skin
and please, take a look at this
rose on my wrist, at the eight
pints that flow through the stem
(can't drag myself out of my body, so i won't drag myself out of bed)
Member DD + DLD Feature: Dec 15th - Jan 24thHi guys, I want to say sorry for missing the second December and first January issue of the DD and DLD feature. However, I’ve not forgotten you lovelies, I’ve just made a wonderfully long collection for you to browse through for that whole time period!
First up: DLD’s
by KathrynODriscoll by EmaciatedandEpitaphs
by :devbrokengod-veins: by miserabel
by KathrynODriscoll by ghearradh
by ghearradh by chewyraezen
by fernknits by DrippingWords
- by roses-and-dreams by :devroses-and-dream
Cancer has a smell.Old classics,
the half cup of
peppermint ice cream
sitting in your freezer
for weeks, and cat litter.
He won’t eat anymore,
but there are
piles and piles
of dirty dishes
sitting in the sink.
before your eyes.
You can wrap
your whole self
around his tiny bones
You can hold him
like he used to hold you
all those years ago.
And you are angry.
You try to find
You hate doctors,
and you hate
You have to force yourself
to stop crying,
This is the one person
who’s always had faith
He’s read every poem
and hoarded every award
you ever won.
You ignore statistics,
he called it the art of destruction.she had nice eyes,
the kind you liked to draw
with watercolor tears
and ink like the moon's
he had memorized
her midnight lashes,
the half-closed shutters
and memories locked away
behind a pupil,
and his pencil was the
were the specks in her
irises of emerald
everything she touched
turned into gold,
everything she touched
and rose anew
like budding flowers
after the blizzard.
could never do the same,
but he'd give those eyes away
for a dime apiece,
ignoring the fact
that ebony charcoal
and half-dried acrylics
were all that she would
homicides are not always humani tried to forget but you planted a seed
in my brain that you constantly watered with thoughts
that i was never good enough. i tried to forget
but it sprouted between my scalp and
shut my eyes tight and sewed my lips together
without words. you punctured my trachea to let the
sunlight into my ribcage, my lungs pumping
oxygen to the weeds that grew steadily around my
neck as if you had built me a noose. and once
its leaves had coiled themselves around the bone
structure called my spine i gave up, because
nausea paralyzed me as your fingers dug deeply into
my chest cavity, looking for the thorns inside so
you could press them into my skin. i tried to forget you,
but i was soon enraptured by the rose that bloomed
from my brain matter, shouting "we won't sink this time, we
won't sink," but it ended up wilting as the petals
fell down my cheeks. i counted them: he loves me, he
loves me not. but i never found out which one it
may have been because you pluck
From Mia, With Lovelast night i caught her with a finger so far down the back of her throat,
she pulled up her thoughts
into all the water
a refraction of light &
suspended until suddenly all the water in her head sloshes
(a faint inner ripple
as the pain leaks out her ears, her nose)
she was gasping to throw herself onto the next comma
she sinks or swims [the cliche, a baracuda, drags her down]
but if this was a love song
she'd hate it
because she's already written 46 on her hand
to remind herself she's only human & a weak gag reflex runs in her family
so walk straight in, my love
& sink to the bottom
six feet under these bulimic stars
fool's goldshe told me lies
wrapped in golden cellophane
with a heart of pyrite.
she gave me a necklace
for my birthday
with a sapphire pendant
and i have never worn it.
she told me
with her eyes
that it wasn't normal
to get chills when you're writing,
so i became numb instead
when that feeling of freedom came
and i trapped myself
she gave me joy
when i thought i'd been
all that makeup and beauty and fashion
hometown bluesthey say home is where the heart is,
but they never claimed it had to be beating.
if this town is all there is to living,
then I'm dead,
and these dusty dirt roads
are my sad little gravestones.
there's a harsh winter wind.
but it's the same air I've inhaled
since I first opened my
surgical steel eye to the world.
remember the pale pink dress
I wore to our senior prom?
you held me
under the fuzzy yellow confetti light.
I loved you because you were so gentle,
and when I fell apart,
you were the only person who knew
I could fix myself on my own.
you twirled me like I mattered,
because you knew that one day I would die.
you forgot that you would, too.
you are wrought iron starlight,
my crooked grey dove.
you live in the sidewalk cracks,
moaning my name as I
cautiously step over the gorges.
my mother calls, from time to time.
I've learned to let the phone ring
because her voice is not the one I want to hear.
she's too tepid, unsure.
she's the link strangling me,
pinning me t
you're just a question marki met you so long ago
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
six steps to fixing youstep one
cry. scream. bang your fists against the walls
that keep you locked inside.
kick your feet in the air. tell your sister she's stupid
and wrong and that you've never loved her.
cry. scream. apologize via him to you.
let your tears catch on your lashes
until you can no longer see anything but your own
demise. taste the bitterness left in
your mouth from your own bitching and rot in it.
break a mug. break two. kick
the pieces around the kitchen floor and cry some more.
break a plate. break a cup. break a bowl.
break a finger because nothing can take away this
sort of pain. you are empty and yet
you are filled with so much anger.
break a razor and paint pictures across your skin.
you are okay, you tell them.
you break three days later and you lie
in bed, unable to move.
start picking up the pieces. clean up the mess
you've made and he's left.
use windex to polish off the dirt and
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More