Mirrors from Afar -Chapter 22Peter got home after half an hour, taking advantage of the early time to take a walk around and clear his head. Or at least think calmly without any interruptions. Even after something so abnormal to him, he still felt strangely calm as he walked through the quiet streets until he reached his house. It wasn't particularly cold that night, only a light breeze gently pushing his hair back as he walked. He figured that any other guy would just think of the date he just had, wondering if he had done well, how the goodnight kiss felt yet all he could think about was his best friend. As if he had already forgotten about his outing with Claire. While he was with her he had pushed it to the back of his mind, but now he had no choice but to think about their fight. The more time passed the guiltier he felt, and the more anxious he got. What if he had lost Matt for good? What if he tried to fix it and it would be too late?Mirrors from Afar -Chapter 225 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
No, I won't accept this.
Once he got inside, he evaded h
A peaceful CoveA peaceful Cove5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A peaceful cove, in mind or place, is where we rest the soul.
A tiny corner of the world, more precious than pure gold.
Pride is tilled, fears are stilled, trust unveils the deep,
trust not in one's own weak strength, but trust in greater things.
Things that ebb, things that flow, mysteries touched, but never known.
Far: the distance one can get, from towering heights, to serene depths.
From sun filled lands, and pure white shores, to the thrilling contents behind closed doors.
Cherished places, come and gone, sometimes things don't last that long.
Worn out shoes, Vacant faces, maps uncharted, empty vases.
Glasses half full, silver linings, it all depends upon the timing.
Appreciation comes from loss, you can't know warmth, til after frost.
Or life's full gift, til after theft, you vainly walk, despise each breath.
People are such silly things, to sinking ships they sadly cling, they see a lost soul writhe in pain, then ask themselves, "what can i gain?"
A warning sign is just advice,
Just a DreamHe'd promised. Sherlock had promised to try. After the first bruising, demanding, kiss, he'd promised to try for John.Just a Dream5 years ago in Romance More Like This
John hated watching Sherlock loose himself. Whether it was in drugs or a case that threatened to kill them both, Sherlock would retreat from the outside world leaving John cold and lonely and absolutely hating himself.
John wasn't lying when he said he'd do anything for Sherlock. God help him, he would kill for Sherlock, and there was nothing John could do to stop himself. Sherlock was a compulsion, protecting him, fighting for him, it was in John's blood, in his brain, his body wasn't ever under the command of the rational part of his mind.
When living with the most observant man on earth, John always worried that he'd said too much, that he would reveal just how much he worked for those stolen moments, when it was just for the two of them.
Next to Sherlock, no one ever noticed John. So John always sat
ReverberationReverberationReverberation4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
In the night I run away from starlight
Its source, a space-leak
Of ultraviolet love
That once upon a time
Widened my pupils
Being the most addictive
Of all treacherous dope
Beneath ebony stars we were sitting
Looking for Orion's belt
He loosened and untied it
To make love with me
I was supposed to be his muse
Like an ancient goddess
But what we had was more of Divine comedy
As Sistine chapel for god is but a living room
One of so many, one of too many...
His soft lips cracked
Of thirst and he drank me
What more - he was getting drunk
Of a spirit not meant to be bottled
We both sank into quicksand running in spirals
And for each other we disappeared behind the mirror
ContainedMany times I like to be bright, even in the colorless snow.Contained4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is welcoming,
With no fear of embarrassing or judgement.
But lately I have been trapped to do as you say.
I feel like a puppet on strings,
Buried, in a grave not meant for my shape.
I want to break free again, but I do not want you to hurt me.
Being captive of my own abilities, I'm not a demonstration.
I'm scared like of what fire does to plastic.
Love is keeping me trapped.
All is better when you force me to obey.
All is regretted when I walk away.
I am a contained flower surviving in a dead temperature.
Trying breath the air I have no money to pay for.
Accepting that this is what love has all to offer.
The Lost GenerationIs this existence of time worth my life?The Lost Generation4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To struggle through each day's heartache,
With all this stress and strife?
Nobody can answer this fundamental question,
How can we save the lost generation?
Is there meaning of conscious left for me?
To hurtle through every night's sickness,
Without any faith to be free?
Nobody will deny this radical emotion,
Where can we find the lost generation?
Is that suffocation of will ready to die?
To tussle through early morning's hunger,
Without the courage to cry?
Nobody shall crave this political flirtation,
Why can't we rescue the lost generation?
lady in blackyou only walk in blacklady in black5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and god i cant understand it
because, of all the colors of the rainbow
that irradiate through you soul
you choose the only color,
that doesn't exist
and you think that pain deserves you
and you make sure it gets what it does
and trickling glinting red
only one of the colors inside you
in the form that's not meant to see
there's something not right here
there's something upside-down
and i plea you to see
that its not right but wrong
there's something not true here
and no i can't help but cry
and i know you do too.
another color that irradiates from you
that no ones meant to see
the color blue
i stay awake sometimes,
wondering why you walk in black
wondering why red deserves you
wondering why you see the color blue
and god i cant understand it.
DriftwoodDriftwood4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
around the dawn
as if begging
for a favor,
so smooth and sharp
worn bare by August -
a mermaid's rib
rubs salt from sand,
the battering lilt of seagulls
against the summer sun.
UntitledWords fall upon def ears known but unwanted.Untitled5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Death again knocked upon our door.
A year had flown by and our hearts were newly healed.
But to no avail as the words sunk in past the stitches,
Of our broken heart and ripped it wide open.
One word rings like a bell in my head,
Why? Why would you kill your self?
Then the pain the hurt slowly fades away,
Like the day fading into night.
All that is left to fell is numb,
With more question than answers.
The tears seem never ending,
It seems as though you may never heal.
But as the heart slowly heals again,
Stitches are place back in but sill there is a hole.
The numbness stays there at the back,
Lingering waiting for the chance to come back.
It never fades just is keep at bay,
For you have that one thing,
That thought in your mind,
To never give in and give up for nothing is worth that.
No EscapeNo Escape3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tried pressing escape
Still Sitting here...
PlaygroundPlayground3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All that autumn her ghost haunted the playground;
no wisping phantom, but strident bits and pieces
clamoring for attention - a pair of black patent
leather shoes waiting expectantly by the teeter-totter.
And Sister Teresa had to pry red woolen mittens
off the jungle gym every morning.
Jimmy Boyle kept seeing her sweater at the swings,
its green wooly arms daring him to go higher
and trying to tag him "it".
And her best friend, Jenny Black
could see the flash of her pigtails
throwing copper across the kickball field
where recess waited to swallow them.
The toys vanished from the sandbox every evening
leaving nothing but a soft trail of disappointment
in their wake -
their accusations of neglect
and longing crouched under the
maple trees, swarming with the bees.
But winter proved a discordant grave -
the protest of frozen ground
an errant melody in the schoolyard
and her shoes kept shrinking
and stumbled down the slide,
leaving a thick crust of frost
like somber tracks that said good-bye
EPIC: Robin in the last battleThe wild cheering escalated to a thunder that made Robin dizzy. Grimly, she reflected that she'd fully anticipated dying at some point in this deranged venture, but she hadn't expected the exquisite grisliness of being presented with a ticket to the event. ("A souvenir for you!" the vendor had told her, beaming, when he'd dropped it off at her holding cell.)EPIC: Robin in the last battle5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Six hours and no breakfast later, she was standing on the raked sand of what could have been a sports arena if not for the huge metal gates locking her inescapably into the ring. She squinted into the sun and awkwardly adjusted the borrowed shield hanging on her arm. She was absolutely sure it wouldn't save her. Azarath's goons had helpfully returned her own sword to her for the day, but even its familiar weight couldn't settle her jangled nerves.
Part of the nervousness had to with exactly how familiar the sword was becoming in her hand. Robin was uncomfortably aware that she had what might be called a gift with it. There was a fe
something as little"Do you sometimes think about humans and hurt," she says. She's rummaging in a crate on the cold floor of her garage, and her face is hidden. You shift to let the afternoon light shine on the golden wave of her hair.something as little3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Because I do," she goes on, before you can admit that you have no answer. Small objects fall from the crate and cascade to the floor with a clatter. "I do."
Her words hang heavy between you, alone and uncomfortable in the summer air, and your tongue stumbles in the strangeness of the moment and spits out, "Why?"
She bundles the long strands of her hair into a fist and straightens, her hands otherwise empty. "Humans are so frail," she says, leaving your question unanswered, drifting with her I do. "They're made of all this muscle and bone and stubbornness, and still you can cut them to the heart with something as little as words." Her eyes fix on yours.
"What do you mean," you say, struggling to keep up with her. "Why words."
She smiles and the force of it is
A Fiddler's Apocalypse"Jeremy! Jeremy, aagh, don't lead them toward me!"A Fiddler's Apocalypse5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Sorry, sorry!" Jeremy yelled back, panting as he tried to focus on playing his fiddle and running backwards, away from the zombies who had begun to notice his music, at the same time.
"Ha! If you can't handle them, comrade, send them over here!" Alik cackled happily, aiming a tiny gun at a group of zombies who had begun to stagger towards Roy and blowing them all sky high with a single shot.
"Alik, stop being such a creep when we're trying to concentrate on not dying!" A new voice, this one feminine, shouted from behind Jeremy. A gunshot cracked from where the voice had originated from, and a zombie that had stumbled too close for Jeremy's comfort went down with a bullet to the head.
Jeremy looked around him and lowered his bow, wincing a little as his aching fingers uncurled from the strings. A slight, dark haired girl came up next to him, holding a still- smoking rifle in her hands and checking around them for any more zombie
Dear deviantWRITERS...Dear deviantWRITERS, allow me to offer you some advice. While I realize that you may not want that advice at all, I will cheerfully ignore that, because I really think dA's literature community could use a bit of setting straight.Dear deviantWRITERS...6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
The reason writers like you and me are on deviantART at all is because we want people to read our work. No one would argue with that. So the way you do things should help get people to read your writing, not flee screaming.
That being said, the preview image that dA gives each literature deviation is your best friend. It gives you about 110 characters of text to impress anyone who might be randomly browsing through lit deviations--to catch their eye and make them want to read more. So! Here's a few tips.
Before that, though: I am not saying that every reader on dA agrees with the suggestions I present here. These are things that I think are important, and that I recommend. This is conceited, maybe, but I believe that good readers would agree wit
PromptsPrompt: I'm always the last to know...Prompts8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Prompt: The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Prompt: Why'd I have to figure it out on my own?
Prompt: A guy/girl like that.
Prompt: London, England.
Prompt: You always leave me...
Prompt: Do you love me?
Prompt: In the end...
Prompt: Where were you?
Prompt: I'm sorry.
Prompt: So ungrateful.
Prompt: I feel so foolish.
Prompt: We wasted so much time.
Prompt: Too far gone.
Prompt: We're so far apart...
Prompt: Is this a dream?
Prompt: White vs. Black.
Prompt: Fire vs. Ice.
Prompt: Just give me some time...
Prompt: Maybe tomorrow...
Prompt: You still awake?
Prompt: Please, don't take this from me.
Prompt: Last time.
Prompt: Forever and a day...
Prompt: You're never alone.
Prompt: Be careful what you wish for...
Prompt: Just for tonight...
Prompt: Are you afraid?
Prompt: Don't worry...
Prompt: Like I promised.
Detailed Character SheetBasic StatisticsDetailed Character Sheet7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Reason or meaning of name:
How'd they get it?:
Date of Birth:
When did they realize this?:Nationality:
For how long?:
Do they like his/her job?:
If they had an element, what would it be?:
Can they use it?:
What animal best represents them?:
When did they start learning?:Who taught them?:Weapons training:
When did they start learning?:Who taught them?:Physical strength:
Any significant ancestors?:
Die EngelDie EngelDie Engel5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In ihrem Element
So sind sie unter uns
Schatten unserer Selbst!
My newest wordegsoutovit: v. - to close or exit something usually on the internet or computerMy newest word5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you have a heavy heartAre we still on the two sisters idea?you have a heavy heart3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Okay. What else you got?
You have something, what is it?
I've never written an argument. I've got nothing.
You've had one though. You have you and your experiences and everything that defines you and its okay.
I know. I'm scared.
Does this help? Imagining someone to talk to?
You seem real.
And you're not there anymore. Okay. I can do this. Write for someone who looks down on everything I like. Write for someone who looks down on me.
Shall we go over the rules?
Don't write clichéd phrases.
Do you know what that entails?
No. I don't really like how writing has rules. Grammar I can understand, it helps the reader along. But everything else just kills the enjoyment and fun of writing. I'm too scared to write.
Describe me something.
There's a white Kleenex on the floor, with a wasp underneath it. We squashed it with a shoe earlier, but it was still twitching, so s
Don't Let Go"Rich!"Don't Let Go4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There was nothing but silence around her. The air felt strangely...full. Oppressive, like it was pressing in on all sides, choking her. She could barely breathe.
"Rich! Oh God, oh God."
She didn't even recognize her own voice, it seemed foreign to her own ears. Each word spoken was muffled, drowned out by the heavy beat of her heart and her halting footsteps. Every step she took she had to struggle, pushing debris out of the way, sharp pieces of wood and metal scratching her legs as she walked. And she had been walking.
For so long.
She began to wonder if it was her hearing that was the problem, or if her voice was simply giving out. Her heart was growing louder every second. Every terrifying second.
Rich, Rich, oh please, please. Her throat was tearing itself apart, but she needed to find him. She wrapped her arms closer around herself. A piece of cracked, torn metal cut through her shoe and sliced into her foot. She fell. She braced hersel
We all deserve some pie.We all deserve some pieWe all deserve some pie.8 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because in all of the whole human race
Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of pie and only two
There's the one with this heavenly apple taste
And the one with it's chocolate coated grace
Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you.
No, we all should eat some pie
Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I.
Because the pies of the sticky should be made cheap
For the rest of us pies would be so sweet.
And then we all could eat some pie.
But I'll never taste a candy
No I'll never see a caramel. Finished!
Alright! You sir, do you have some pie?
Come and bring some for your good friend Sweeney.
You sir, too sir? Give a caramel.
Why did nobody mention
That I can die of starvation..?
Who sir, you sir?
No ones has a pie, Come on! Come on!
Sweeney's. Still waiting. I beg you people.
You sir! Anybody!
Gentlemen now spare a pie!
Not one man, no, nor ten men.
Nor a hundred can refuse me.
I will have you!
And I will get some pie after endless groans
In the me