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Tell Me What You Hear

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Tell Me What You Hear

Breathing. I hear breathing. It’s shallow, a little fast. Listen deeper. Tell me what you hear. The rain, tapping at my window. But it’s strange. There’s almost a pattern to it. Listen beyond the rain. Tell me what you hear. Voices. Soft voices. They’re calling out, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. Try and hold onto those voices. Tell me what you hear. I’m trying, but they’re too far away. Wait. There’s another. This one is closer. Tell me what you hear. His voice is deep. He’s telling me… He’s telling me to sleep. Listen for something else. Tell me what you

Warmth

W

Warmth

The warmth of my tears Remind me that I can feel Something more than this

The Hanging Tree

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The Hanging Tree

The Hanging Tree is Singing sweetly on the moor. No longer afraid.

Desire

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Desire

There's a desire deep within me: To tease. To twist. To feel the tender tip Trace silky skin. To paint the body with blood. To engrave myself onto their image. So simple. Yet so permanent. I will remain constant. My instrument mirrors my facade; Reveals the "ugly truth". It nips away at reality. Slicing. Reflection. Soft. Correction. Fluid. Perfection. A body of art; Abstract. Given purpose as purpose Slowly, But ultimately, Concludes.

Nightly Reflection

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Nightly Reflection

In my bedroom there's a mirror; it stands parallel to my bed. Each night I glance upon it as I rest my weary head. I cannot help but wonder, does my reflection do the same? Or does it take the moment, to wander from the frame?

Tell Me What You Hear

T

Tell Me What You Hear

Breathing. I hear breathing. It’s shallow, a little fast. Listen deeper. Tell me what you hear. The rain, tapping at my window. But it’s strange. There’s almost a pattern to it. Listen beyond the rain. Tell me what you hear. Voices. Soft voices. They’re calling out, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. Try and hold onto those voices. Tell me what you hear. I’m trying, but they’re too far away. Wait. There’s another. This one is closer. Tell me what you hear. His voice is deep. He’s telling me… He’s telling me to sleep. Listen for something else. Tell me what you

Riverside

R

Riverside

Raindrops dance upon the page, blending ink with sky. My thoughts blur, weeping from the paper As the wind chases the lie. Leaves flutter softly; so much green on them still. They dance with enthused beauty Beneath the feet of ill. The willow tree enchants me, beguiles me with its tales. A soliloquy of mystery Whispered from the tendrils. Echos drift across the river, dreams seek its bed. The moment forever fleeting, I rest my weary head.

More Than One

M

More Than One

I'm not one person, I know that now. I keep one caged, Deep down. I hear it sometimes; It screams, I smile.

Pretty Smiles

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Pretty Smiles

They look so pretty when they smile. It's best to do it when they're still warm, The skin is so much more supple; Like putty in your hands.

The Sunflower

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The Sunflower

I had this dream last night, A dream I can't explain. It started with a sunflower Calling out my name. I wandered ever closer But it vanished from my sight. A wooden door ahead, So inviting in its might. It creaked open slowly, Enticing in its tone. There's something in the air, I know I'm not alone.

Night Mare

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Night Mare

It listens outside your bedroom door And patiently waits for your soft snore. When it's safe it creeps on in Ready to taste your supple skin. A gentle touch, you hardly stir, It watches close and mutely purrs. It digs in deep and takes a piece, A size, of which, you'd not notice.

Untitled

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Untitled

This house makes     The strangest noises         When it thinks it's alone.

Desire

D

Desire

There's a desire deep within me: To tease. To twist. To feel the tender tip Trace silky skin. To paint the body with blood. To engrave myself onto their image. So simple. Yet so permanent. I will remain constant. My instrument mirrors my facade; Reveals the "ugly truth". It nips away at reality. Slicing. Reflection. Soft. Correction. Fluid. Perfection. A body of art; Abstract. Given purpose as purpose Slowly, But ultimately, Concludes.

What?

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What?

What lingers there inside your mind? What are the thoughts that you can't find? What happens when the silence comes?

This House Is Sinking

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This House Is Sinking

This house is Sinking. An Ocean Of lost life. A busy silence Floods The canals. Unspoken words Seep In broken ears. Lost. Wade Through the hallways. Drown In empty air. Reach For the surface. Gasping. Grasping.

Words

W

Words

Words can mean a little, Words can mean a lot. Sometimes it's what you make of them, Sometimes they're all you've got. Words can make a difference, They can change a person's life. They can send the world to war, Or end a victim's strife. "We are masters of the unsaid words", Be sure to choose them well. For cruel words can linger, They can turn life into hell.

In Sanity

I

In Sanity

I find myself in a world of white, This place it feels so pure. The Sun's rays are warm and bright I've never felt so sure. I explore the land and all its sights, I enjoy the world's grand tour. I wander around until the night Shows what it has in store. In the darkness, a speck of light Reveals a hidden door. I turn the handle and peer inside, A sight I can't endure. I turn to run, to escape my plight, I dare not to explore. But something inside catches my eye, I can't resist the lure. I awake to find myself tied tight, A voice tries to assure, "This one may finally fix you right, Maybe this is the cure."

Spotlight

Nothing But A Puppet

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Nothing But A Puppet

I am nothing but a puppet, A thing that you control. A simple wooden toy, I do not have a soul. I am nothing but a puppet, Someone to do your bidding. Your demands from my body, Relentless, unforgiving. I am nothing but a puppet, Your fingers pull my strings. They pull in all directions, Twisting, tangling. I am nothing but a puppet, My strings down by my sides, Trailing closely right behind me, My eternally bounding ties.
57Comments

Spotlight

The Boy Who Wore A Mask

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The Boy Who Wore A Mask

There once was a boy, His parents named him Todd. In most ways he was normal, But there was something odd. Todd liked to wear a mask, The reason was unknown. He wore it day and night, His face was never shown. One day as Todd was playing Outside his favourite hole, A boy came running at him, He only had one goal. When the mask was taken, What remained was quite a shock, For instead of human features, There lived but just one rock! Now this rock was nothing special, It didn't dance or sing. Heck it wasn't even living, It just didn't do a thing! So the boy did what we all might, He reached into Todd's face, Wrapped his hands around the obj
115Comments

Spotlight

Comic Book Hero

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Comic Book Hero

We met in the Summer, I was single and free, So fragile and sweet, he took care of me. He was so much fun, exciting and new, It was all so amazing, too good to be true. Like a comic book hero, he swept me away. He promised me the world, the night and day. But his heart was untrue, his words were lies. No comic book hero, but a villain disguised. Our romance was deep, like Superman and Miss Lane Iron Man, Miss Potts, Spidey and Mary Jane. He impressed me with gifts, and words sublime, Affirmations of how he would always be mine. Like a comic book hero, he swept me away. He promised me the world, the night and day. But his hea
78Comments
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Artist // Hobbyist // Literature
  • Feb 10, 1990
  • United Kingdom
  • Deviant for 8 years
  • She / Her
Badges
Two Scoops: Exclusive Robert Rodriguez Blackberry Badge
Birthday '15: Celebrated DeviantArt's 15th birthday
Ninja Llama: Llamas are awesome! (631)
My Bio
My pen name is Caylee Slansen (an anagram of my real name).

I live in the Yorkshire Dales in England.

I'm a Software Developer, but creative writing is my passion. My writing style varies. I'm a horror fan, and as such a lot of my work is horror themed. However, I do like to write quirky pieces too so you may stumble across a few of them.

My favourite poem is "Jim; who ran away from his nurse and was eaten by a lion" by Hilaire Belloc.

As a warning for my potential gallery viewers / readers, my poetry may be seen as "untasteful" or explicit for some readers, so sensitive readers please take heed. I have placed maturity warnings on such work; you have been warned!

LLAMAS - There is no need to thank me for llamas :) I like to use the random deviant tool and check out your pages, and whilst I'm there I usually leave a llama!

Favourite Visual Artist
HR Giger
Favourite Writers
Wilfred Owen; The Bronte Sisters; James Herbert
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC & Xbox
Tools of the Trade
Whatever is to hand.
My first short story eBook is being released on Amazon Kindle tomorrow (Wednesday 22nd March)! All profits made from the sale of the eBook will be donated to the Alzheimer's Society. https://www.amazon.co.uk/House-At-Bottom-My-Street-ebook/dp/B06XFHZ...

DeviantArt's 15th Birthday!

DeviantArt's 15th Birthday!

How long have you been on DeviantArt? 3 Glorious Years What does your username mean? Caylee Slansen is my pseudonym and an anagram of my real name. Describe yourself in three words. I love words. Are you left or right handed? Right handed. What was your first deviation? The Lonely Teddy Bear What is your favourite type of art to create? Poetry. Without a doubt. I love writing, but I tend to get bored when writing novels. Poetry allows me to explore the many, many random thoughts in my head and have a bit of fun with them. If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be? Drawing / sketching. I have a great admiratio

Which is your favourite Resident Evil game?

  |  6 votes
  • Resident Evil 1
  • Resident Evil 2
  • Resident Evil 3
  • Resident Evil 4
  • Resident Evil 5
  • Resident Evil 6
  • Other

Comments 871

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thanks for the badge :)
Thanks for the llama!
You're very welcome! :)
Thanks for the :iconllama-plz: :)
Thanks for your watch :-]
Happy birthday! :cake: I wish you'll enjoy the day! :party: