Guilt that eatsMaybe I should have questionedMore Like This
why your teeth always chattered
like fingers clicking on a typewriter,
and why your fingernails
looked as though faint, blue ink
had bled through
but who questions anything
at the age of sixteen
and maybe I should have noticed
the lunches you spent
or listening to music,
as you gave away your lunch,
because you said
you were not hungry-
and I silently thought
more for me
and maybe I should have wondered
why you walked through the hallways
with pockets of graphite
under your eyes,
as your knees knocked together
like keys on a lanyard:
and maybe then
I wouldn't sit here with guilt
that eats at me-
like you never did.
Boldly Facing The FutureMore Like This
Artist Credit DanielaUhlig
Many of you have been in this community for a long time, but whether you’ve just joined or you’ve been a member since day one, this is your first impression of the new DeviantArt.
Change is not something that we take lightly, because it affects our collective identity. It was important for us to define who we are and what we’re made of at our core before we changed anything. We all have our own understanding of what that means, but the process of getting that core story down on paper took almost a year.
The result is “Bleed and Breed Art.” This is our center of gravity and our reason for getting out of bed in the morning.
It is the guide and the justification for everything, including our business partnerships, the development of the new app and the design of our new ide
A Tribute to Robin WilliamsMore Like This
A Tribute to Robin Williams
Robin Williams Tributeby EmilyStepp
The World According to Garp 1982
Moscow on the Hudson 1984
I saw an AngelI saw an Angel.More Like This
No, he wasn't abnormally beautiful with gorgeous blond locks, nor did his eyes shine as bright as the Caspian sea. He didn't have wings either, nor did he wear clothing adorned in white that shined brighter than the sun itself.
He was as plain as I was, perhaps even plainer. Though blond, his hair wasn't brilliant, in fact, it was dirty and matted. He wasn't the picture of perfection either, in fact, he was the opposite.
Pale and thin, dirty and uncared for, I saw him in the alley with a needle stuck in his arm.
A dose of heroine destroyed him, spoiled him...but I still saw an angel.
Perhaps it was the smile he gave me, when I gave him fifty cents go buy some cigarettes.
Perhaps it was the way his dull eyes looked at me, lost and distant....alone.
Perhaps it was the way they screamed, “I'm still human”.
I saw an Angel.
She stood at the corner of the street, striking a pose for all to see.
There in the Red Light District, beautiful and elaborated with m