|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
day 17she dreams of the pink swing set under a canopy
of leaves, shoes brushing colours of autumn
of mud slicked steps, rusted spoons and clear
plastic forks turned opaque from grimy hands
of lard-filled jars and broken glass,
glittering teeth hidden beneath tree shadows
of scratchy hay poking ankles and, below, sharp
metal just peeking through faded itchy yellow:
day 3you said: there is just
something about myths.
i thought there's just
something about your lips.
tell me the myths of
your sleepy hometown
and the truths of hands
held proud in public.
i'd like to learn the
stories of your skin,
the loud silence of
heartbeats and bed sheets.
you don't sit beside me in class anymoreyou look like oversized sweaters waiting for
mr darcy vapid vanilla shows up late to
class with coffee cheeks flushed from cold
(but there's more than meets the eye. i like
the flush of your cheeks and last week i
wondered if you bite lips or lick them; if
you'd change my mind on holding hands)
gone is your floral perfume soft breathing
arm brushing mine proximity pulsing legs
crossing blurry profile in peripheral
(but now i almost like it better this way. it's
easier to follow concentration as it moves
along your features and i have always been
more comfortable with distance anyway)
lost in space1
there were words once, listen:
quiet, soft, like fingers brushing over the fabric of a sweater, tickling your ear, warming, small gusts of heat that spread to your toes, a glinting eye, a curved mouth, a promise.
there were words once, listen:
hard, rough, like metal scraping over concrete, bruising, marking your arms, legs, ribs, even your spine, purple and black blossoming on dark skin, yellowing until silence, an apology.
there were words once, listen:
now there are no words, only the deafening roar of silence.
there are words now, listen:
the old stars whisper to each other. they have discovered the secret of patience, a conversation lasting the ages. a single word may take years upon years to travel and you have to know which way to send it. careful, precise, or you may tell a stranger you miss them.
you can hear the sound of these words, like fast cars on a track, restless and enduring. the faster they travel, the slower time moves, slowing rapidly until it sto
sharp nailsthere is a pattern of
veins on my right thigh
that looks like the long,
blue bones of a hand
sometimes these thin,
spindly fingers crawl
up my veins and
arteries to clasp around
my heart, tug on the
back of my eyes,
dotting and blacking
they scrape the nervous
system and i think i
used to pray to settle
from 3429 ft.two years ago from paris, saskatoon looked like a small solar system, hazy with rain and cold. three days ago from toronto, it is midday and foggy, a thick blanket of grey masking tiny grey buildings cut by a tiny grey river. but the feeling is the same and i want to reach across the aisle to hold my sister's hand much the same as two years ago, russell reaching for my hand, any hand, two changed souls unprepared to face the sameness of home.
but the feeling is not the same. we are not two changed souls: we are just happy ones, 'satisfied with the trip' ones, and i do not hold hands when i am happy.
may 3i press tissue paper to the skin
above my ankle, apply pressure,
try not to think about the red and
searing and the itch in my hand.
i decide i want to cover my body in
ink, beautiful and expensive.
my grandmother asks me why i
want a tattoo.
i tell her, "i think they're
five years of thinking pass.
birds fly across my wrist and i trap
beautiful and expensive.
reverberationshey skinny boy, you walk like you know where you're going
and when you kiss me, i don't know what to say
( and it sort of
reverberates between us, doesn't it? )
parenting 101when our children wake up screaming in the middle of the night
or crawl into our beds, we have a list of reassurances:
"it was just a nightmare" and
"it was just the shadows" and
"it was just your imagination"
until they, too, are desensitized and locked in a cage,
condition themselves to be blind and sane like the rest of us
Open Letter (To My Sister)Open Letter (To My Sister)
Dear Little Big Sister,
First off, you’re freaking awesome and amazing and hilarious and an incredible giver of the nickname. Okay, now that that’s out of the way, onto the actual letter.
I debated back ‘n’ forth on prose, free verse, spoken word, and traditional poetry to use as a birthday gift for my little big sister (Yes, an oxymoron but we’re weird, trill, and epic like that. Deal with it.). And I thought to myself, “Man…I’m gonna go Kanye and just be like, ‘Forget that old ish, I’m on that new ish.’” And that new ish is open letters. Munira, my little big sister and Souljournalist, I love you. I love you for your creativity, I love you for your honesty, I love you for your heart, and I love you for your kindness.
You are an inspiration, a creator, and one hell of a thinker. You are an artist and you inspire me every day with all that you are and o
Being HumanDear You,
I believe that we were not destined to die,
nor born to. I believe that we were born to
be dropped into the cesspool that is life, and
destined to cause ripples. The ripples, of
course, will eventually fade, but it's what
you do when life is still rippling that makes a
small difference in this world. Because let's
face it: one can only be remembered for so
long. Eventually, we will perish, along with
the ones who tried to keep us alive.
It's not a pessimistic thought, per se. Think
of yourself leaving behind a chain of memories
which will be worn down and forgotten over
time, but kept in pristine condition. The bonds
you created with others will be strong, not
malleable, to the point of closure. I hope you
built your chains strong enough, because only
a few will be left to tend to them when you're
This letter is written from and signed to you
because I finally understand your message.
Cherish your eleven p.m. shots of night,
because some day soon you won't be able
Auditions!So, in the last entry I was talking about :icondon-hill-44: doing a Lets read of 'Gaming is Magic'
He needs two voice actors.
A deep male voice to play Mark - Link
A male British accent to play Aaron - Link
for his Let's Read
You have to be ok with MLP and Markimash lol
If you are interested, contact him!
GratitudeIt's hard to believe
that it's been 6 years
since I joined dA,
and began showing myself to the world,
making new friends,
and staying in touch with the old.
It's been 6 years
of learning and trying new things
while developing my skills
as both a writer and an artist
as well as learning how to better communicate ideas.
In these 6 years
I wasn't always there
when things got tough for others
but there was always someone there
to help pick me up when I was down
#welcomehomephilOkay guys we need you more than ever.
We (:iconlittlephilosaur: and i) want to get #welcomehomephil trending on twitter0 PHIL IS ON HIS PLANE. all you have to do is tweet using the hashtag 'welcomehomephil' AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. spreading the message to any of your followers would also be lovely!
If you do this, i'll be so grateful. I'll do a request, i'll do follow back or whatever, but PLEASE, get #welcomehomephil trending!
thanks guys xx
A Message to My Future SelfA message to my future self.
I write to you myself in the near future, to remind you of the mistakes you made in your life. Remember to avoid buying Half-Life 3, I know it will come out, people say it won't, but I know it will be! If you get a million dollars, buy out our politicians to make them do whatever you want for your benefit. Don't meet, and befriend assholes, remember that stupid girl Emma? God I was naive into being her friend, she was such a bitch. That's one mistake I wish to fix, you better not make another friend like her, or you'll regret it! Are you still doing that story with Robert? Remember to come up with a lot of ideas for whatever you two do. Oh, and you're still rping with Anna? I hope so.
Sincerely, your past self.
In realitySchool freaking sucks as well. The thing to remember is - I know, when you're there it feels like it's never going to end and you'll be there forever and all, but it's only there until you're... what... 20 at the most? and then you walk out of that area of your life and seriously, you'll never look back. The people you hang around with right now will be a blip in your memory. Yeah you'll remember some of your lessons - that's what education is for, but even your grades won't matter massively. This doesn't mean you should slack and skive off or anything, everything you do at school now shows future employees what you're like at working so the better you do, the better you prove you are a learner and the more you show up, the less likely you are to skive off work and that's important.
But these shitty friends won't mean a thing to you very soon, they'll be a part of your past life that is in the back of your mind. You're so close to the end, it's just this final push, these last few year
Letter's to Divorced Dad (Girl Writer) Dear Daddy,
I hope to clear things up with you. I have been a selfish prick and I know I have been hurting you. At the time, I didn't realize the consequences picking her over you. I wanted to stay where I knew people, had more family than those liars living with you, and doing things I wanted to do. In doing this, I was hurting you so you started doing what you always did when you got hurt. You lashed out. You say that I have stabbed you in the back, but in all truth I was looking out for my best interest and you were trying to get your pride back. I'll always be your daughter, Dad, but I don't want to have the life that you were put through. I want to be with friends, I want to make you happy, but I can't make everyone happy now can I? I'm sorry, but I need you to understand. I'm a teenager. I'm going to be selfish, I'm going to be lazy, and I'm going to hate everyone every now and again. So stop pouting and be my father and not a wounded anim
day one, part threei think your eyes are pretty and your smile is pretty and your hair is pretty and your legs shot heat down my spine.
but you're not that pretty up close you wear your eyeliner like the thick outline of bad clipart and when your legs aren't moving, i forget who you are. the girl beside you toys with the ends of her hair and her thighs are tanned and bare just like yours. her voice is syrup, sugar content too high, and it's all i can do to keep my mouth upturned, to partake in the pleasantries of small talk.
you are just another girl with hair extensions and jeans cut at the pockets. when you speak, it is hard to hear beyond the cotton candy vowels that think you are still a little girl (did you ever grow up?).
i want to lift your parietal bone and look for something other than pretty and legslegslegs.
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More