Dear You (Or, Alternatively, Me)Dear You (Or, Alternatively, Me) –
I worry about you sometimes.
I worry about how you are doing: who you are spending your time frolicking with, whether or not you have finally kissed someone, if you still get nervous easily. I worry about my friends in your time – are they still our friends? Or have you finally let them all go, or pushed them away, or left like we always dreamed of?
Sometimes I lay in bed in the late hours of the night, dreaming of your life. Do you remember? Do you remember staring at the dark ceiling so long it began turning red, tossing and turning, hoping and dreading what is to come? I wonder if the things I have done effect you as we have always worried they would; if they have broken you.
You see, the truth is – and I am certain you remember this about me – I fear you. I fear you like a lightning rod fears a thunderstorm. Do you remember why I fear you so? You do, don't you? Just as I shrink away from the possibility of becoming you, so you shrink
To My Future SelfTo my Future Self,To My Future Self2 years ago in Teen More Like This
Breathe. You must be thinking, seriously, my teen self is acting like an old fart of a teacher telling off overstressed kids, but seriously, breathe. Stop. Pause. Listen. It's your heart beating. It's telling you, I'm beating so damn hard, I might just kill you one day.
Okay, let's digest. There can only be two reasons for your heart to beat like that. One reason is because I wouldn't have changed- I would still be that overzealous, neurotic, depressed teenager with a penchant for word thieves, dream catchers and moment makers. The other reason would be just the opposite: it's beating with life, with purpose, with hope.
I hope you'll be that second person.
Because being that second person means being serenaded by Chopin in a boy's car, travelling down to Bondi Beach watching sculptures rear out of the sea and you're feeling like, maybe, love may finally find you at last. Being that second person means you just won't shut up talking to patrons
Can't Find JoyI stole the smiles from both of my parent’s facesCan't Find Joy2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The very same one I was responsible for
On the day I was delivered into their arms
In a cloth, from the beak of a black feathered stork
From the very first day with my very first breath
Though I was not able to speak a single word
It was evident as the nurses bowed their heads
That this boy with the dilated pupils was cursed
Everything I’ve ever grown to love and desire
In one way or another I have now destroyed
Yet still I have the temerity to question
Why it is that I can never seem to find joy
I stole the smiles from both of my parent’s faces
I would do anything at all to give them back
But some wicked actions can never be undone
And some statements I have made I cannot retract
Regardless of the depths that I sank or swam to
Whether I was responsible for what was wrong
My lugubrious mood could always be soothed
With memories of the black feathered stork’s bird song
Every page my trembling hand has ever turned
Dear Teen MeDear Adolescent Self,Dear Teen Me2 years ago in Adult More Like This
I know, everything sucks and you don't want to hear from some lame-ass old person. Lame-ass old people try to tell you things like this all the time, but they're just stupid old people that can't possibly understand. You don't respect me because I'm not in a band, I don't have black hair, and I don't look awesome. I don't write screamey songs that speak to your weasley black soul, nor am I Tim Burton or Freddie Mercury. I get it, past self. I get it. Frankly, I don't want to hear things from me either most of the time. As lame as I may be, just hear me out for a minute.
There's this thing you should really, really try, and it's called being happy. No, I'm not high. Yes, this is really quite terrible and hokey. Shut up and stop judging me for a minute, I'm trying to help you, you little twonk. Also, start thinking of absurd insults now, it will help you in the long run.
As I was SAYING, you spend far too much time and effort on being miserable. Part of it is the ho
last night I was inspired."Last night I was inspired.last night I was inspired.1 year ago in Personal More Like This
It was a sad, cold, lonely night. Thoughts screaming, yelling at me. I literally wrote nonsense on the wall for hours, about beating hearts, fragility and failure. About skeletons that had no legs and hissing fangs that glared at me.
Once again my cruel best friend arrived, embracing me with its gleaming coldness. She was dressed in silver and scarlet; our favorite colors. She danced as I wrote and sang as I cried. And then I was suddenly left in the dark; lonely, hating her -hating them-, and crying.
Yet it was strange that what I only got to feel then, was inner peace."
"Anoche fui inspirada.
Era una triste noche, fría y solitaria. Pensamientos chillando, gritándome. Escribí cosas sin sentido en la pared durante horas, sobre corazones que laten, sobre fragilidad y fracaso. Sobre esqueletos sin piernas y colmillos siseantes que me mataban con la mirada.
Una vez más, mi cruel y mejor amiga llegó,
Love letter to myself.Small handed girl,Love letter to myself.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you've written the truth
of your scars wherever there's
space to write it
and I love you.
They painted over
the rape you wrote about
on the front door of
your Uncle's house
and I love you.
They took the floorboards
of your bedroom out where you'd
carved the shape of your
father's fist into their
and I love you.
You shook the sand of
your fifteenth birthday out of
your hair and into a jar
you keep under the bed to
remember a girl with crooked
teeth and bony knees who
fled and flew
and I love you.
You've built yourself into a
fortress with nothing but your
fingernails and shredded skin
and you let him in when he
waited by the door instead of
forcing his way
and I love you.
scraps and sacramentsyou,scraps and sacraments2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
beautiful siren girl with melodies
entangled in her hair: you are
shell-shocked and sea-struck
even though you cannot stand
the sensation of sand beneath
you have fingers for prying, picking,
pulling at your skin and nesting
in that hollow space between
your bones. and if anyone asks,
you will swear there are monsters
sleeping in the concaves of your ribs;
there are ghosts beneath your tongue,
embittered, and you are not the words
they say there is an answer, little girl
(sometimes you begin to believe you are
a scarecrow on the border of reality
begging people to turn the other way;
and the mirror will agree)
how far have you gone? a feather in
the breeze who won’t promise to return
again; there is a wandering warmth in
the hesitation of your harbored fear.
where will you be in six months when
the future has become itself and you
are still astray? little one, no one is like you
in the way you sway to the cadence of a
dissonant night. no one knows your
The Art of Consent: BurlesqueHowever,The Art of Consent: Burlesque3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i can use the rounded corners of
sullen eyes, too-short fingernails,
magnanimous hips, and frosted lips
pressed crackling against the
porcelain dream he
so blackly freed against me.
i am four inches envy and
six inches will,
and completely engrossed in pursuit of
And he, still violent and violet, is there,
unconvinced and scared, and so perfectly
He finds me tied, vaudevillian, to his
falling from mind to mouth,
from mouth to spine.
Where contact confuses
sexually transmitted attention for
sexually transmitted affection,
there is not time to obscure the view that
condemns him to what is malign
and otherwise known as misunderstood.
And i felt his eyes eating up where i stood,
felt my heart burning up what it could,
dropped a flatline to
pick him off my hemline, and understood
what it meant to be in control.
i love the heady derision provoked
simply by the act of undressing, no smoke,
except for that of the opiate crowd and
no mirrors, ex
Happy HollowLook:Happy Hollow4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I found him in Happy Hollow, the woods that's on the outskirts of the city. He was a little ways off the path me and my sister, Nahla, take to school, 'cept Nahla was sick that day so it was just me by myself. It's not the fastest way to get to school, but we can't go through Northampton or else the bullies that live there will throw dirt clods at us. After I found him I took him to this old shed out there. It's got a hole in the roof but I figured the little guy'd be safe there on account of it's a good ways away from the Northampton houses; plus you can't hardly see it through all the leaves and branches and stuff. His fur was real white and real soft, just like snow 'cept it wasn't cold. It was warm and fuzzy so it made you wanna squeeze him real tight. I liked playing with his ears cuz they was all floppy, 'cept when you made a weird noise, then they'd stick straight up and he'd tilt his head sideways and look at you funny. He had a long bushy tail and sharp little baby teeth
His Mother's SisterShe was looking at Harry like she had never looked at him before. And all of a sudden, for the very first time in his life, Harry fully appreciated that Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister. He could not have said why this hit him so very powerfully at this moment. All he knew was that he was not the only person in the room who had an inkling of what Lord Voldemort being back might mean. Aunt Petunia had never in her life looked at him like that before. Her large, pale eyes (so unlike her sister's) were not narrowed in dislike or anger; they were wide and fearful. The furious pretense that Aunt Petunia had maintained all of Harry's life--that there was no magic and no other world than the world she inhabited with Uncle Vernon--seemed to have fallen away.His Mother's Sister2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Petunia sat upright in a plump armchair made for
Activity vs. Community When combining millions of artists working with different media, style, experience level, etc. being here can become overwhelming and finding your "place" can seem almost impossible. Throughout the last few weeks I've noticed more and more people asking "how can I be more active?" and "how do I get involved in the community?"Activity vs. Community1 year ago in Personal More Like This
These are both the same question and completely different questions at the same time. Though the answers to both are quite similar if not the same the difference between activity and community is huge! We're going to cover the answers and difference to both of those in this article.
There are three basic ways to being active on dA and getting involved the community. Everything after this will actually lead right back to these three things.
Commenting: is the best and most effective way to particicpate in our community becaus
Women ArtistsThe other day, I attempted to put together a huge list of some professional and semi-pro women artists over on my tumblr, because it seems like too often women get overlooked when it comes to being honored and recognized. This year, I was incredibly honored to be nominated for a Hugo award in the Best Professional Artist category, but I was a little shocked to find out there hadn’t been another woman nominated in that category since Rowena Morrill in 1986. That’s more than a little ridiculous, considering there are so many women artists out there who are all amazing, who offer unique points of view and design solutions, and who need more visibility and recognition. While putting this list together, I was really excited to find tons of new artists I'd never heard of before.Women Artists1 year ago in Personal More Like This
TangoStanding beside one another,Tango2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
heads down, hands together.
The spotlight illuminates our hidden personas,
instant lovers we become.
Our bodies mold,
our hands intertwine,
we swiftly bind as one.
The music floods our soul,
vibrating our surroundings,
sucks us in,
melting as do the strings
of a Violin.
Our movemets are clean,
Passion so not...
Love is so dark,
so dark, I see nothing.
But feel everything.
He grabs my hips,
holds my lips,
... I'm in flight!
Trusting our every muscle
as he holds me;
Drenched in generosity.
Strangers we become.
SSM 2012: 2. HostageHostageSSM 2012: 2. Hostage3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Please, Sakura... Don't struggle too much. I don't really want to hurt you... But, of course, I can't tell you that.
"Keep it quiet," he whispered menacingly in her ear as he brought the blade of his sword up to her throat. Her eyes widened, and he narrowed his eyes for effect.
It really bothered Sasuke that he had to keep up this act until he got a chance to kill Tobi. But once that wass done... if he survived... Maybe she'd forgive him.
"I'm only taking you hostage, Sakura. Be happy I'm not trying to kill you. I could easily do that as well..."
I could never do that, Sakura... So please, stop struggling...
But struggle she did, and it was a fight just to bring her to Tobi.
"Here. I brought her, like you asked," Sasuke said, still holding her tightly in his mock embrace. Oh, if only he could really hold her...
The evil glint in Tobi's eye was enough
Did You Know? - 20th SeptemberDid You Know? - 20th September3 years ago in Deviant Events More Like This
1230 Points Rewards (December 2013 )Hello1230 Points Rewards (December 2013 )1 year ago in Personal More Like This
Happy New Year
First Every one Fave This blog
Then watch some of our supporters and join groups suggest
This Time we selected 123 Deviations and we will give 1230 Points to 12 Deviations (Randomly) ,
These Winners Got 102 Randomly :
We saw all the works,choose the best,moved them to " Best Folder" and gave them Rewards .
Please read the whole journal , if you are one of our winners , just comment here , then we will give you rewards .
(For More information note :iconmyselfia: and ask about it).
Now let's introduce the winners together :
SSM 2012: 3. RebelRebelSSM 2012: 3. Rebel3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"I'd do anything for you, Sasuke! Just don't leave me!"
Sasuke would have been lying if he'd said that he hadn't thought of things he could make her do for hima thousand thoughts had run though his mind in the span of that instant, some of them rather dirty. Over the next two and a half years, he often found his mind drifting back to those thoughtsto all of the things that could have happened.
He'd left her behind, of course... but what if he hadn't? What if he'd taken her with him like she'd so tearfully pleaded?
Would she really have been able to turn her back on her family, her friends, everyone she cared about... for him? Did she really love him more than all of them combined?
Would she have been able to prove to Orochimaru that she was worthy of being allowed to live? To stand by Sasuke against everyone she'd once cared about as a traitor and rebel,
PE :Artistic ExcusesYou know, everywhere in the world, inspiration strikes, new artists are born, and new styles are born. We all start as beginners and take our time...but then certain points...there are times when we feel a certain way about our art. Some people don't think that they cannot get better when you know you can. Some people feel they should quit....when you can keep going. Some people feel like you're nothing...when you are something...those things are called excuses...there is no excuse why you cannot accomplish your goals to become an artist. The quotes you see oftenPE :Artistic Excuses1 year ago in Personal More Like This
"OMG! Your art is so cute!"
"That is awesome!"
"I love your art"
"Your art is very cool and different."
That alone should motivate you to keep going. But if you still feel weary of your art and if you still feel like your art cannot get better even after comments that should motivate your to keep going, here's a guide to help you out and a guide of excuses that are often shown w
Busted? Make up an excuse!BUSTED!Busted? Make up an excuse!2 years ago in Art Features More Like This
Street Photographers Caught in the Act
No success by PatrickMonnier
Make up an excuse for getting caught
Inspired by Thomas Leuthard 'The best excuses on the street' (http://floost.com/petapixel-post-humor-the-best-excuses-to-use-when-doing-street-photography-1338087
http://500px.com/ThomasLeuthard/stories/5875/blog-13-the-best-excuses-on-the-street) here is my own contribution to the cause:
Sarcasm by myraincheck
Sometimes people ask you what you are doing and then you need a good answer. Here are
WATCHERS FEATURE! pt. 23100+ works to enjoy this month.WATCHERS FEATURE! pt. 233 years ago in Art Features More Like This
Drapery Study da Vinci by AmBr0Golden by art-of-amie
Michael and Anahita (The Autumnal Equinox) by Aty-S-BehsamInseparable by SandraHultsvedSutileza femenina y gris by JormanComegatoIn home by JormanComegato
Blue Feathers by TheSlaveQueenElizabeth by artbydarrylJared Leto by Andela1998Benedict Cumberbatch by BloodLexy
Bleeding away by BlacleriaSketch Card : SCARF by blessyo4Asian Beauty by HelenePietAdele by Sierra-la
From the shelter of my mind (Tom Hiddleston) by arthawk87Castiel by TalestrissMini Tom by Pencil-Stencil:thumb317733890:
Lunch Time by sharmz:thumb280601855::thumb315825295:
Respect The Models Sign XXL by KiLLERdjay2k15Windows to the world by BloodLexyDon't Pass Me By by Gyllene
Give Peace A Chance by Just-a-LittleDreamerKaiden Hawke by ErinM31Dante DMC3 pen drawing incomplete version by HoshisamaValmor
To A Heart by Before-I-SleepSunset by Nadine-PotCBald Eagle by little--grasshopper
Your Light by ErinM31:thumb315973066:Zhang Ziyi by Gyllene
Pon de replay by Cindy-R07 - Amelie by PreetikaSharmaSketch Card : HOLMES by blessyo4
Benedict Cumberbatch by SecondGoddessStare death in the eye by acjub:thumb313784897:
Imogen by Sierra-laCM: Mitsuki by TiaVonI want sleeep by YouWillBeSurprised
Song Thrush nestling by YouWillBeSurprisedBlonde Bond _complete by 05emort123Johnny Depp by artbydarryl
It's Play Time!! by Darklight-phoenixStudy by phoenix132Drapery Study Durer by AmBr0
05 - O-Ren Ishii by PreetikaSharma:thumb
AlwaysTwo young children talked in a meadowAlways4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Green trees were 'round them, the breeze was cool
The boy told the girl a wonderful secret
About witches and wizards and a magical school.
At first the girl simply could not believe
That this strange young boy could be speaking true.
But after a while, her eyes did brighten
And he basked in the glow of their shining green hue.
After all this time?
Two years later a scarlet locomotive
Was chugging along on a sunny autumn day
These two best friends sat talking in wonder
Of the marvelous place they were now going to stay.
They arrived at the station; a giant of a man
Told them and the others to follow him to the lake.
They got in the boats and started towards the castle
The moon made her face shine; his breath did she take.
After all this time?
But his joy would not last, with the Great Hall around them
As a woman approached and set a hat on a stool.
"I'll call your name, you'll come and sit down,
and this hat will tell all your place in this school."
Traditional Trees Contest! Winners!!!:iconbutterfly1plz::iconbutterfly2plz::iconbutterfly3plz::iconbutterfly4plz::iconbutterfly5plz:Traditional Trees Contest! Winners!!!1 year ago in Art Features More Like This
A Walk in Late October
More from His Gallery:
More from Her Gallery:
Oh, EleonorDear, dear Eleonor,Oh, Eleonor2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we could've been an analogy;
skin to bones
ankles to soles
spine to limbs
teeth to lips
throat to tongue
heart to lungs...
but you were mad with fever;
a throat-borne disease
and swan neck fingers
and forget-me-not toes
held nothing more than the roots
beneath your paper-pressed wings-
and possibly the weeping of
a broken child.
a halo wrapped
around the finger of
a rebel stripped of her voice,
her chest constricting
the bittersweet taste of air.
an armor and a shell
cannot be the same thing,
and you can't be anything less
than the same person.]
your bones aren't bones
yet, and no matter
how much you stretch your hands,
you can't heal the sky
and ask for heaven in return.
believe me, I've tried...
but wish your tears on a star
and try to find me in your ribcage-
can't hear us sometimes
and the pleas of
a girl stuck at fifteen
cannot weigh the burden of the world;
and it cannot embrace you
when the moons in your eyes
How did you manage to forget!? (Merthur)I wake up with my face in a crotch. To be fair, it’s one I’ve become exceedingly familiar with, but that’s beside the point (it may also help to know that it was clothed. If it weren’t, well... That’d be a completely different story). It’s warm. I look up to see a pair of inquisitive blue eyes peering down at me.How did you manage to forget!? (Merthur)2 years ago in Romance More Like This
“It’s about time, Merlin. I tried moving you but you were sleeping sounder than a boulder and weighed as heavy as one, too.”
I can’t help grinning. The usual sassiness from the future king of Camelot. “Sure you didn’t just like my company?” I murmur back. The morning light is harsh so I snuggle back into his warm trousers.
Arthur makes a sound and pushes against my head.
“Nooo stop but you’re waaarm-”
“Merlin, we have someplace to be! Now get up!”
I refuse. His bed is pleasantly temperate and agreeable and he’s here and I’m happy. What reason would I possibly
SSM 2012: 1. ConversationConversationSSM 2012: 1. Conversation3 years ago in Romance More Like This
The first morning that they let him out of the hospital, Sasuke wandered aimlessly through the streets of his hometown. They'd been rebuilding after the destruction; it was hardly recognizable to his eyes now.
So much could change in just three years time. So much.
His feet brought him to the old pier where his father had taught him and his brother the clan's signature technique before he knew where he was going. When he saw where he was, he stopped and stood still, frozen in place.
So many of his memories were tied to this placehe wasn't sure if he was happy or sad that it had escaped being destroyed when so much else had been lost forever.
His thoughts snaped painfully back to the present when he noticed her standing there. Sakura.
She stood perfectly still, the gentle wind barely grazing her hair as the blossoms that shared her name fell slowly off of the trees all around the two of them. It was early spring, a time of beginnings and endings.