Collections
Literature
rebels.
i.
you called me last night
a poem on the edges of your lips
something you wanted to press against me
like an imprint.
it was a poem
about a monster
and a small girl screaming for help
but no-one knew
whether she was calling
to
on the behalf
or because of
the monster.
you said, softly and solemnly
that you'd never considered
so many possibilities.
i laughed and said i believed in all three
isn't that a contradiction, you asked,
and i just held the phone
silently
wanting to scream out a no
but not daring.
ii.
the next day my parents sit me down
at the dinner table
to discuss my future.
do i want to be a mathematician
or a poet?
they leave t
All
3759 deviations
Featured
72 deviations
Literature
Temperance in the Reversed
Abigail Wash had seen the mafia push a beat-up Model T into the lake. And she had told the town about it for five days. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe her; it was that they didn’t know what she wanted them to do about it. She would insist on pulling the car from the lake and her daddy said he only needed a few good men to help with the wrenching. But no few good men wanted to know what the mafia didn’t want them to know.
Men cut from a less moral cloth told Abigail to keep silent. And after those five days, she fell silent on the topic of the car. Although for the next six years until her daddy lost the house she
DDs or DLRS
314 deviations
Literature
Temperance in the Reversed
Abigail Wash had seen the mafia push a beat-up Model T into the lake. And she had told the town about it for five days. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe her; it was that they didn’t know what she wanted them to do about it. She would insist on pulling the car from the lake and her daddy said he only needed a few good men to help with the wrenching. But no few good men wanted to know what the mafia didn’t want them to know.
Men cut from a less moral cloth told Abigail to keep silent. And after those five days, she fell silent on the topic of the car. Although for the next six years until her daddy lost the house she
Suggested DLRs, DDs
39 deviations
Literature
untitled #39
picture
a lion
a bird in its mouth, you—
brave heart.
trying to pretend
your teeth aren’t sharp
(enough to kill me).
picture
a bird
in a lion’s mouth, hoping
for mercy, waiting
for a promise, wishing
to be a cat
to claw its way out.
you saw my shadow
mistook it for a giant
and then, in your arms,
i became the saddest girl
alive.
2019
49 deviations
Literature
aries in the first house.
call me tigress of wicked tongue,
starving since the day i was born.
[ i was named for a goddess, the mother of suns. ]
give me ram-horned athenian girls
who kiss with pride clenched between
their teeth. give me white seraphim
warriors, their touch like napalm,
burning and burning.
[ i die fearlessly, like sunset, like phoenix. ]
give me blood and entrails
and dark fire-glass knives.
cut me your beating heart, spill
your life on my temple floors.
[ i am the volcano and i demand sacrifice. ]
2018
63 deviations
Literature
Read Me
Book worm
squirm
against the pressed
flowers of my pages
where my torn out
table of contents
spilled ink between the lines
Leaf through my open
spoken words
Make a fold
to highlight
insights you like
Take notes
on my margins
with your red pen
Foreshadowed
heavy editing
fixes in syntax
Write me a climax
2017
40 deviations
Literature
Things My Father Taught Me
The smooth and white kind of birch bark
is good for making campfires
on cold and rainy autumn days.
It makes an excellent kindling
and will take flame even when wet.
Bacon and mustard sandwiches
toasted over that campfire
are the most delicious things you can cook
when you're hunting or fishing out in the woods.
And when you make campfire coffee,
put the instant coffee, sugar, and powdered
creamer in the cup first,
then pour the boiling water over;
this is especially good when you don't
have a spoon to stir the coffee.
That was an old trick he learned
from eating c-rations during the war.
All these years later I still do the coffee tri
2016
96 deviations
Literature
Lacrimosa
She breaks harp strings
She tells me, in a hour
Or less
She has a backbone
Stronger than anything
I've ever seen
She breaks harp strings
She tells me, with delicate fingers
And violent heart
Loved by a ribcage
More fragile than
Her fluttering start
She is orchideliruim
She is lemon vodka, peppermint tea
Cold champagne spiked with
Paradise,
Like the things she used to make for me
She writes nocturnes in her sleep
And she cuts
But she can't let them see
She's a butterfly
Breaking at the wings
She is gilt and guilt and
Gold-tone trills, brilliant
She tells me she breaks harp strings
And we'll play the piano one day
I talk to her late at
2015
139 deviations
Literature
crooked blue lines
i took a photo of my face and saved it in a document
i changed the file from .JPG to .txt
i wrote I DON'T NEED YOU TO LIKE ME into the body of the text of my face
until my face disappeared
i am thinking about the summer
when i bought large bags of chips
and hid them around the house
i didn't let myself eat them
but i wanted to own them
so no one else could eat them either
i had a feeling of not wanting to sleep again
and experienced migraines in two different countries
i threw up in a club and then passed out on the floor
the floor was very sticky
the lights seemed to make the room more dark
than if it had been a room without lights
i hadn
2014
108 deviations
Literature
We are both foreigners in a house we once shared.
Reacquaint me:
your mother died last year; my boyfriend has left.
You wring your hands beneath the table, where you think
I cannot see. I refuse
to care; instead I
line up lovers
between bites of toast.
You've taken to staying out
late, I've taken
to sleeping early. We exchange
carefully chosen words-- the ones
clipped of meaning.
Reacquaint me:
here we are, breathing the same city air,
both of us trying to seize our own brands
of happiness. Yet what is that
but a passing shadow of sun?
In the darkening afternoon
it illuminates us
at our prime. We can no more
claim it
than we can trap
the loves of our lives
to our side.
Reacq
pre-2014
44 deviations
Artworks
908 deviations
Fandoms etc.
700 deviations
Homestuck
250 deviations
Photography etc.
279 deviations
Features
143 deviations
Tag from comatose-comet
Thoughtfully tagged by ~comatose-comet (https://www.deviantart.com/comatose-comet), then us begin!
The Questions:
i. favourite word in another language?
Right now at this very moment it is the Finnish word for 'rainbow', which is 'Sateenkaari'.
ii. any embarrassing misconceptions/misunderstandings you had as a child?
None that I can remember.....lucky me.
iii. what's a word/theme/colour etc you feel you overuse in your work?
For my writing, the word "the" and "and" . As far as theme's go, I would say "fantasy" for both my drawing and writing. Color that I overuse would be gray I think. Lots of pencil work, I can't help it. =P
iv. what's your favourite piece in your own gal
Other things
79 deviations
201949
