AfterIt follows me.
My silver skeined ghost.
An almost imperceptible thread;
only visible when you shine light
directly upon it.
It follows me.
It rides the underground.
It hides under bridges,
It is woven into the spools of tar
that form the roads between.
Inevitably if I walk too fast
it reminds me -
Like the tug of stitches in your cheek
that reminds you; you have lost your wisdom.
It reminds me.
It trips me in doorways,
when my mind is elsewhere.
If I look away from it -
- it slips round my neck.
Another knot to throw over the beams
it mauls me without a fair chance.
I tried to sever it. I can't.
Only the corrosion of time has a chance.
So for now, I am tethered
to the fragment of my heart
that I tore out for you.
Although we have placed it in a shroud
and declared it dead,
the umbilical thrumming keeps me awake.
It does not desist;
the connection to that unwanted slab of meat.
DA suggestion: anti giveaway miscats.I would like to suggest that purposefully posting giveaways in the literature fiction prose and fiction poetry sections is manipulating the deviantART front page system to get onto the front page easier, at the expense of an already under-represented frustrated literature community.DA suggestion: anti giveaway miscats.2 years ago in Written Suggestions More Like This
Giveaways are not art, therefore do not belong in a literary art gallery.
I will report these as miscats when I see them and post to tell the poster that I believe they have put it in the wrong section, but I would like to suggest that repeated offenders be banned for what is essentially manipulating the DeviantART system for personal gain.
I did not suggest a Giveaways gallery under DeviantART related because I feel that it would be unfair for skinners and coders for example to suffer because of these deviations which should be journals.
- Disgruntled writer.
A Tale of Two Buttocks (Community Project Results)A Tale of Two Buttocks:A Tale of Two Buttocks (Community Project Results)3 years ago in Other More Like This
in which we meet Anna Beth, knife-guy as WB Yeats in Disguise,
and Honey Boo-Boo – who is immune to zombie attacks.
It always came down to choices, and if Anna Beth had chosen to squish herself into the half a seat not occupied by the left buttock of the rotund woman in front of her, she would not be in this situation. Anna's eyes darted around the train's interior as the hooded man behind her shoved the knife deeper into her back. He twisted the knife screaming insanely "Welcome to hell - you whore," wiping away the blood that splashed back into his forehead. Anna Beth was grateful her attacker had no idea the knife he used was like a pinprick in her seat partner's left buttock, a woman who never registered either the knife or the man.
The passengers continued looking in front of them, ignoring the psychotic man that only Anna seemed to notice. None on the bus wanted to draw the man's attention or knife towards them. But it was the last stop, a