Me.Anorexic.Me. in Free Verse More Like This
DisappearWishing to disappearDisappear in Free Verse More Like This
never to existed in their mind
no reason to cheer
this is why I was designed
there's a cloud over me and its raining knives
all smiles are faked
no one hears his cry's
as he sits there shivers and shakes
doesn't even try to reach out because there's nothing there
only my own numb stare
no desire to fight the devils wrenches
would anyone notice if I could disappear
because Im starting to feel warm in these trenches
would they even shed a tear?
Sick of the acting
let me compost with the dirt
live????..... ill think Ill be passing
lets make sure this hurts
still wishing to disappear
lets seal this coffin with a drop of blood and a tear
What Happened?I used to think make upWhat Happened? in Free Verse More Like This
Made people ugly.
Now I think I'm ugly without it.
I used to think people
Always loved me.
Now I think everyone hates me.
I used to think everybody
Was my best friend.
Now I think no one truly is.
I used to think
Boys were icky!
Now I wish I had one.
What happened to being
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"I'm Fine in Free Verse More Like This
No. I'm dying. I have to push myself to wake up in the morning, and when I finally do, I want to go back to sleep. Even my best dreams are becoming nightmares. I can't taste food, I can't stand the things I used to love. I'm breaking. I'm fading. I'm dying.
You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...You'll Never Understand... in Free Verse More Like This
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
AnorexiaMeet a girl named No One, with a heart of shattered stoneAnorexia in Free Verse More Like This
Staring at the other girl, the one that's not alone
Girl with skin that glistens, with the eyes of crystal seas
Grin of shining diamonds and a laugh like a disease
Flashes just a glance and soon, she's every trouble's cure
She has everything… and No One's off to be like her.
Eating turns into a crime, she'd rather be away
Thrusting fingers down her throat to make herself okay
Watching as her very bones are seen behind her flesh
There she drowns in tears, for she has not yet seen success.
Minutes turn to hours, and these hours turn to days
Every moment slipping, slowly fading into grey
Rapidly, her body turns to nothing but her bones
As she fights for beauty, as she battles for the throne.
Broken hearts must learn to beat, and this she came to know
Learning it the hard way when her heartbeat grew too slow
Yet, she somehow managed still to shine from what's within
Lying in her casket with her hidden, unseen sin.
Final thoughts ins
When I'm GoneI don’t want you to remember me.When I'm Gone in Free Verse More Like This
I don’t want you to think of me.
I don’t want you to hurt over me.
I don’t want you to dream of me.
I don’t want you to cry for me.
I don’t want you to miss me.
I don’t want you to love me.
I don’t want you
Once Upon a NightmareOnce upon a mysteryOnce Upon a Nightmare in Free Verse More Like This
Once upon a crime
Once upon a lullaby
Once upon a rhyme
Once upon a thunderstorm
Once upon a lie
Because every nightmare tends to start
With once upon a time.
When I SaidWhen I said I wanted a fairy taleWhen I Said in Free Verse More Like This
I meant I wanted a prince.
I didn't want to be locked in a
I didn't want to be fought by a
I didn't want
When I said I wanted a fairy tale
I meant I wanted to be a princess.
I didn't want to watch a rose
I didn't want to wear the gown
I wanted it
When I said I wanted a fairy tale...
I expected it to end in a
But i never expected it to end like this.
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"I'm Fine in Free Verse More Like This
That's all they say.
And I leave behind
These words in my mind.
I'm broken, I'm dying.
Inside, I'm crying.
There are wounds beneath my skin.
There are trials I face within.
There are things I just can't say.
There are people I must betray.
Beneath a smile, I feel pain.
Behind the sun, there's always a little rain.
And beneath these words I hold in my head...
There's always the thing I say instead.
I leave the truth behind..
So when they say, "are you okay?"
I always say, "I'm fine."
goodbye, lettermani love you enoughgoodbye, letterman in Free Verse More Like This
that my heart is
like a wound
in my chest.
i know it's not pretty
but i'll tell you
how you leave me
into the sink,
porcelain veneer sneering
at the broken teeth and mirror
a foot ahead.
you smell like
drink & weed,
and you are making me sick.
in the morning,
i will sit you down at the
kitchen table to show
you the vomit behind
eyes bleed rivers
dead sea salted
over the bends
of my thumb.
you read sad poetry
to the caves
inside my heart,
because sadness knows
and expect me
not to crumble.
the first poem i wrote since i told you i love youthe star-soaked stainsthe first poem i wrote since i told you i love you in Free Verse More Like This
that covered our nudity
gives way at last
to a tequila sunrise,
so low in the sky;
it's still bright enough
to sting my eyes,
and yet i can't bring myself
to hate it.
your body next to mine,
every effort is made
to move a heavy limb
because any space
is space i don't want.
i am sometimes humbled
by my feelings,
the way they swell
in my throat
just how the ocean
tastes the shore.
there is always something new
to find hidden in my heart,
summoned by my words,
or the salt of your skin
wearing like wind on shale
i don't think i can ever tell you
i love you enough.
if i could, i would never get dressed
so that you could never be sad-
a rewind every time
my clothes touch the floor,
never anything but nude, not naked
because with you i can be bare
i can let you see my entirety
and leave my arms uncrossed,
i can let you in
and not fear that you will break me,
or force my inner things out.
i can love you with open arms
and my lip
things i don't know about you that bother me thati wonder what it's likethings i don't know about you that bother me that in Free Verse More Like This
to fall asleep beside you
in a post coital haze,
and to wake in the morning
to run to class.
do you wake me,
do you kiss my forehead,
do we make love again-
i don't know,
and do you wet your toothbrush
before applying toothpaste,
tell me you don't leave the sink running,
it must get awfully tired.
and what do you dream of
when i lie next to you,
blissfully more than just a body;
what will you dream of
a year from now?
please tell me i can fit into
your big picture
as easily as i can fit into
christmas doesn't have to be lonelythis is the first christmaschristmas doesn't have to be lonely in Free Verse More Like This
i have not spent alone;
when i have had arms,
sand-specked like the beach
and as encompassing as it is
to my body (of water, my ocean),
waiting to hold me
and steady my waves
there will come a day
that i am so fully loved
that the effulgence mimics and empty room
and the engulfing fire
exudes the warmth missed
in the winter snow
in which i am kissed
this is the year
that my endless yuletide wishes
have been made.
this is the year i am christmas lights,
(again and again and again)
the therapy office.today you told me a million timesthe therapy office. in Free Verse More Like This
i was worth more than i thought,
the lines on my arms meant anxiety,
& drugs should ease me out.
you said my body was cold
& my head was achy,
& not to show my bones
sheaths of skin.
it was like you loved me,
only i knew better.
it was then
you told me my goals were
too lofty & i was driving myself
here is where i hoped
to prove you wrong,
to be thinner than the spaces
between a boy's fingers
(the spaces meant for me)
to be two numbers instead of
to wear convex patterns
beneath my skin to tent it into
what i mean is i'm sorry
because i am not ready to silence
the thunder in my gut;
to let the paths of guilt and beauty
fade from my arms;
to be beautiful and perfect
the atlantic was born todayoh,the atlantic was born today in Free Verse More Like This
it's raining very hard,
stones on a tin-can roof,
and my lips become the
shape of valley mouths,
fluttering in smiles
and antagonistic frowns,
as i remember dragging my
watering feet to
the balcony to let you
hear the rain i heard
while you were
an absolute rosei want to make you happyan absolute rose in Scraps More Like This
i want to make you come
and you will hear me better
you will hear what i am dying to
say but too afraid to speak
it comes out as a whisper,
the same sort of air made pink
by moth wings at gatsby's
parties, the rustle of heavy dresses,
and the stillness brought by
stupefaction and breathlessness
i forgot to tell you that every time
i think of you my legs ache
and i cannot figure out why,
why why whywhywhy
but still i want to take your hand
and write in its palm,
i could wrap myself in you
until i am warped like an oak tree
and you would turn yourself
inside out to see if you could still
call me (,) beautiful
i don't want to sleep because
you should be beside me
i could smile because you
stayed and slept, neither of which you
promised. the clock over my
shoulder would read 7:15 and i
would slither back close to
you with my head tucked somewhere
by your neck.
you'll stay, won't you?
you won't leave me to an empty bed
will we ever be again?all i know is how i feelwill we ever be again? in Scraps More Like This
and all i know is i feel dead.
make of it what you will.
what i need you to understand
is that every time i say to myself,
i love you,
i also say,
it doesn't matter.
i told you before you left
how i loved you,
and how angry i was
when i figured it out.
it seems denial can only get you so far.
so here's the thing:
i have a habit
of trying to rescue
what can't be saved.
i try on moods like clothing,
undergarments of repulsion,
denial, and depression
tattooed on my skin.
here's the thing:
the world is on fire
and i plan to burn down
i don't believe in suicide
but i do believe in reckless behaviour,
and it's just aching inside me
not to open the car door on the highway,
to look both ways before crossing the street,
to care about my health and myself
and here's the thing:
every night i say my prayers
to the only god i can believe in,
wishing wellness on everyone
except for me.
tyler durden.im still sore. you were tootyler durden. in Scraps More Like This
beautiful for me. i wondered
how long it would take
before id change that.
the minute hand
moved maybe eleven times; then,
twenty-nine kisses and two
lumps of lye later, i am
tyler durden and your face is
scarred with the print of
let me introduce myself -
i am a nightmare
and i want you ugly like me.
i am a poison dart frog
and i want to swim in your blood.
i am an elephant
with sadder eyes than stormclouds.
i am useless until i am beautiful
and i will die before i love myself.
i already know that you are
gods gift to mankind even if you dont.
here we just tie our hands together
with our fingers acting like string.
the beautifulest of beautifuls.
the thinnest of thins.
the ugliest of uglies.
here we both bear scars beat into
our skulls like we are some
kind of monster. every time you
kiss me, i believe it even more.
i ask you to slap me, and you do.
you tell me to punch your mouth until
you bleed and so we go to the
emergency room. we tell them you
Artists on Writers - No. 4, Gabriel Garcia MarquezArtists on Writers - No. 4, Gabriel Garcia Marquez in Art Features More Like This
Issue No. 4|Archives
The Spectre of Magical Realism Comes to TexasGabriel García Márquez
When he died last April at age 87, he had for a half century been a candidate for “world’s greatest living writer.”
Author of short stories and novels, including his masterpiece, One Hundred Years of Solitude, he received the Neustadt International Prize for Literature in 1972 and the Nobel Prize for Literature in Literature in 1982. He was a fierce critic of the United States and had a friend in admirer Fidel Castro, with whom he sometimes shared notes on his works-in-progress. He was banned as a “subversive” from entering the U.S. for several decades until President Clinton lifted the tr
Artists on Writers - No. 6, Octavia ButlerArtists on Writers - No. 6, Octavia Butler in Art Features More Like This
Issue No. 6|Archives
Octavia Butler the Slayer of Stereotypes…
How many times have artists been dismissed or discouraged because of someone else interpreting their audacity as egotism? Octavia Butler started writing science fiction because of the film Devil Girl From Mars. Don’t misunderstand–she wasn’t inspired by the movie, she knew that she could write a better story.
Growing up in Pasadena, California, Butler was shy and introverted. She preferred writing stories over socializing. When she was twelve years old she saw Devil Girl From Mars, and began writing science fiction in an effort to do the genre some justice.
In the end she succeeded by leaps and bounds. Butler’s work is recognized as groundbreaking, not least of all b
Terminator Trailer Terminates TimelineTerminator Trailer Terminates Timeline in Art Features More Like This
Terminator Trailer Terminates Timeline
Marcus Terminator Concept Art by RobertDBrown
With our concepts of time and space in our collective pop culture receiving a relentless shredding (Interstellar, Looper, Edge of Tomorrow) the Terminator, once again, comes back to show everyone how it’s done.
But where exactly and when will this be? When he (it?) first hit the pop culture
Paul Tobin's Scavenger Hunt Part 3Paul Tobin's Scavenger Hunt Part 3 in Art Features More Like This
Paul Tobin’s Scavenger Hunt PART 3
The Seer Redux by PaulTobin
Design Industry Tips: Inspirational Tutorials
Masterful Resources on DeviantArt
PaulTobin is a conceptual designer, illustrator and graphic designer who has worked at Weta Workshop of New Zealand since 2003.
He has worked on films such as Andrew Adamson’s The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Prince Caspian, Peter Jackson’s King Kong and James Cameron’s Avat
Italian Masters of HorrorItalian Masters of Horror in Art Features More Like This
Italian Masters of Horror
Zombie by liliesformary
Giallo is Italian for yellow… and Horror
In the wake of the real life horrors meted out on Italians during World War II, brutalized by Mussolini and then by Nazi occupation and then having their country used as one great battleground chessboard between Nazis and the invading U.S. and Allied forces, there was for a long time little appetite for horror in movies. It wasn’t until 1956 that the first genuine horror film (a vampire story) was produced and released. It bombed, soundly rejected by the public. The film would be of little note
Who is Dr. Strange?Who is Dr. Strange? in Art Features More Like This
Who is Dr. Strange?
Dr Stange colored by DM-P18
For several months the world has been asking the question ‘Who is Doctor Strange?’
The faces of Ethan Hawke, Johnny Depp, Jon Hamm, Joaquin Phoenix, Tom Hardy, Jared Leto have been click bait for a thousand sites waiting for news of the star of the next Marvel movie franchise. According to Mike Fleming over at Deadline it now looks like Marvel have finally landed their perfect
Collection: The Allure of a Red DressCollection: The Allure of a Red Dress in Art Features More Like This
The Allure of a Red Dress
Maybe it’s being the color of blood that makes red such a strong color, especially when displayed in public. It is exotic–a matador’s cape, or a vampire’s, or a flamenco dancer’s skirts. Most women have their “little black dress” for evening’s out. Black tells no secrets. It’s on the occasion of the “red dress” that we suddenly wonder what’s on the someone’s mind.
The message of “red” in novels, films and music is passion barely controlled, of sexual temptation. It is a flashing warning light. Plastic surgery made John Dillinger
Daredevil: Man Without FearDaredevil: Man Without Fear in Art Features More Like This
DAREDEVIL: Man Without Fear
Hell’s Kitchen in New York City was a pretty rough place
Like many areas of the city in the 1950s and 1960s, poverty gave way to hardship which in turn created crime. The New York of that time period would be unimaginable to people only familiar with today’s Disneyland–inspired Times Square. But back then things were tough.
Alien IsolationAlien Isolation in Art Features More Like This
The Wright Stuff
Spaceman with no face 2 by bradwright
I've been playing Alien: Isolation for the last few weeks and it is scary as hell.
Alien Isolation Q&A with bradwright
Brad Wright, longtime deviant in the dA community, steps into the shoes (space boots) of Giger and Moebius as a concept designer for the Alien Isolation videogame. The game reportedly marks a return to the terror of the original “Alien” film in which scaring the audience to death was the goal, rather than the uncorking escalating levels of defensive firepower that defined the sequels.
Burying A Sci-Fi ClicheBurying A Sci-Fi Cliche in Art Features More Like This
Burying A Sci-Fi Cliché
if I were a writer by In-Ink
From the Dusty Annals of Sci-Fi Cliché History
James Tiptree, Jr. was a writer of science fiction, mostly short stories, whose first work, “Birth of a Salesman,” was published in the May 1968 issue of Analog Science Fiction.
Analog Science Fiction
Warm Worlds & Otherwise
SometimesSometimes I hate how I can imagine many different things that can actually mean hope. I could easily say something like, "to every day there is a dark side. But a new day brings a new light." Or whatever about how 'no matter how dark the night may seem, if you look hard enough, the stars will always be shining, even through the darkest clouds.' But there's a difference between reading and listening, then undertsanding, and then actually believing it, trusting it, grasping it and then using it to turn your life around. People can see the light, but don't always pay much attention...Sometimes in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Between The LinesSix years old,Between The Lines in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
tired and cold
a girl stood with rags and bruises.
She turned to stare,
tried not to care
beside her the mommy who always uses.
She happened to see,
a mother of three
tied down by the 'devils' on her sleeve.
The little girl asked,
desire well masked
why must they ruin Christmas Eve?
No answer ever came,
only silence to blame
and mommy walked on without one word.
The little girl followed,
a large gulp now swallowed
left her question hanging and simply unheard.
Mirror, MirrorMirror, mirror, on the wallMirror, Mirror in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Why can't I be nice and tall?
Mirror, mirror, hear my cries
Everything they've said are lies.
Mirror, mirror, do I dare
Ask for longer, prettier hair?
Mirror, mirror, can't you see
This fat is really hurting me.
Mirror, mirror, did you know
This sadness isn't just for show?
Mirror, mirror, let me shrink
Just force it all down the sink.
Mirror, mirror, I can't eat
Does that mean I am petite?
Mirror, mirror, look at that
All I see is tons of fat.
Mirror, mirror, fuck it all
Won't they love me when I'm small?
Mirror, mirror, feel my thighs
I want to be a smaller size.
Mirror, mirror, do you care
About how this world is so unfair?
Mirror, mirror, hear my plea
There's just too much I can't be.
Mirror, mirror, I'm called 'hoe'
Just for wearing a dress cut low?
Mirror, mirror, I won't drink
I'm getting closer to the brink.
Mirror, mirror, please press delete
Am I slowly realizing defeat?
Mirror, mirror, let us chat
Listen for why I want my stomach flat.
Creature ComfortDown into the depths of her mindCreature Comfort in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
lives a creature who's not very kind
His fangs are sharp and ready to slice
been there, done that more than thrice
This little monster isn't all that rare
he shows up in school, dreams, nightmares
The teachers always said she was out of tune
already gone but much too soon
In their thoughts they held her soul close by
made sure she was fine but hoped not to pry
Now, she's still alive, hanging by a string
a tired angel flying with only one wing
You'd think her peers would want to stop in
Take a little time to wash her of sin
Maybe tell a tale or grasp her hand
stare for a while at her wristband
As much as I'd love to tell you a lie
they never said anything but “try not to die”
Her parents, oh God, they were the worst
only came once to sit and to curse
A phone call or two, but that was the end
they were scared their little girl wasn't on mend
This made her sad, afraid of it being her fault
that she had to go and bring her life to a halt
CheersHere's to the mother who never caredCheers in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The brother and sister who wouldn't share
Here's to the teachers who never asked
The students and peers who always passed
Here's to the man who sat on the road
The homeless and weak who cracked the code
Here's to the animals who sat by my side
The big and small ones who held me as I cried
Here's to the father who wanted to know why
The nieces and nephews who waved goodbye
Here's to the counselors who wanted to hear
The faculty and staff who shed not a tear
Here's to the woman who grasped the hard truth
The doctor and nurse who labeled my papers “Ruth”
Here's to the teddy who grasped my hand
The lions and tigers who could understand
Here's to the bully who prayed for my death
The mean and cruel who still called me “Seth”
Here's to the people who prayed not for me
The good and evil whose 'morals' I couldn't see
Here's to the gates who opened their arms
The angels and guardians who meant no harm
Here's to the God who opened his