EvanescentRomance's avatar
infectious human waste
42 Watchers9.9K Page Views212 Deviations

Cocoons

C

Cocoons

I used to bathe in PVA to hold myself together, falsifying the striptease of confession, revelation, forging a synthetic skin to let people under, tear asunder, take a piece and frame it like a rubbing of a leaf or gravestone, lock it in a locket, gild your open heart. One childish summer, I stood on a street corner with a friend, de-winged ants knee deep, picking at her sunburnt shoulders, peeling her away, leaves to the wind like a flowerbud or christmas present, trying to find her angel wings halfway between shoulder blades and tissue paper skin, volant as powder down. Some precious things are best left veiled.

Dead Sea

D

Dead Sea

I hate everything; “Perception is necessarily a reflection of the self”. Demons are wounds, hidden Like fossils in human flesh. Some fester and weep, Screaming to the touch; Others close Like lips, the end Of an unresolved argument, Slammed doors, grand finale; A nail polish bottle cemented shut By its own contents. Scar tissue patterns Locked inside the beachy pebble of my body Tell tales on me, Of what I am, who I have been. Crack me open and the dead rise up Like steam, a cloud of dust. My insides turn To rust from submergence. My once-smooth figure, now So jagged, cuts like arrowheads. The curled up scroll Of an ammonite Unf

Hardcore Soft Girl

H

Hardcore Soft Girl

I like wearing miniskirts and I read Marie Claire I like bubblegum pop music and I like to dye my hair I like rich thick hot pink lipgloss and I like to pretend I still dress up all the time even though I’m seventeen And I'm learning how to defend myself I pretend my legs are made of silk, pretend I'm Sleeping Beauty I fake like I'm a natural blonde and fake like I'm a cutie I like having kitten pits and I like kissing girls I like clothes that show off my tits and I like wearing pearls I like the way my hair smells of peaches And I like it even when it reeks of 15 different kinds of bleaches I'm a hardcore soft girl I'm a pincushion

Briar Rose/Liar Prose

B

Briar Rose/Liar Prose

I would like to sleep In a flowerbed Pansies cushioning my head For all the thoughts I bought from a freelance writer The last time I pulled an all nighter on my own You wanted to talk on the phone So I did But I had nothing to say for myself I nodded and smiled like you could see me And worried about my mental health, again My drunk honeysuckle fingers slurred Over the power button And they cut you off Before I had to pay for another word I really can’t afford to be so shy Cut through the brambles of telephone lines Put your hand in mine And we’ll sleep a hundred years And keep the thorns for souvenirs I wish my voice didn't soun

Kitty Stew

K

Kitty Stew

You’re never fully dressed without a smile Is that why models pout so much To make themselves that much more alluring? I’m not sure I can’t think over the sound Of people catcalling The world’s best dressed woman Because she doesn’t want to smile I don’t want to smile I’m not your Pan Am sunbeam To brighten up your journey through the day All I wanna do is catch my bus, Go home, and fingers crossed I won’t start crying on the way
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Cocoons

C

Cocoons

I used to bathe in PVA to hold myself together, falsifying the striptease of confession, revelation, forging a synthetic skin to let people under, tear asunder, take a piece and frame it like a rubbing of a leaf or gravestone, lock it in a locket, gild your open heart. One childish summer, I stood on a street corner with a friend, de-winged ants knee deep, picking at her sunburnt shoulders, peeling her away, leaves to the wind like a flowerbud or christmas present, trying to find her angel wings halfway between shoulder blades and tissue paper skin, volant as powder down. Some precious things are best left veiled.

Dead Sea

D

Dead Sea

I hate everything; “Perception is necessarily a reflection of the self”. Demons are wounds, hidden Like fossils in human flesh. Some fester and weep, Screaming to the touch; Others close Like lips, the end Of an unresolved argument, Slammed doors, grand finale; A nail polish bottle cemented shut By its own contents. Scar tissue patterns Locked inside the beachy pebble of my body Tell tales on me, Of what I am, who I have been. Crack me open and the dead rise up Like steam, a cloud of dust. My insides turn To rust from submergence. My once-smooth figure, now So jagged, cuts like arrowheads. The curled up scroll Of an ammonite Unf

Hardcore Soft Girl

H

Hardcore Soft Girl

I like wearing miniskirts and I read Marie Claire I like bubblegum pop music and I like to dye my hair I like rich thick hot pink lipgloss and I like to pretend I still dress up all the time even though I’m seventeen And I'm learning how to defend myself I pretend my legs are made of silk, pretend I'm Sleeping Beauty I fake like I'm a natural blonde and fake like I'm a cutie I like having kitten pits and I like kissing girls I like clothes that show off my tits and I like wearing pearls I like the way my hair smells of peaches And I like it even when it reeks of 15 different kinds of bleaches I'm a hardcore soft girl I'm a pincushion

Briar Rose/Liar Prose

B

Briar Rose/Liar Prose

I would like to sleep In a flowerbed Pansies cushioning my head For all the thoughts I bought from a freelance writer The last time I pulled an all nighter on my own You wanted to talk on the phone So I did But I had nothing to say for myself I nodded and smiled like you could see me And worried about my mental health, again My drunk honeysuckle fingers slurred Over the power button And they cut you off Before I had to pay for another word I really can’t afford to be so shy Cut through the brambles of telephone lines Put your hand in mine And we’ll sleep a hundred years And keep the thorns for souvenirs I wish my voice didn't soun

Good Friends

G

Good Friends

 Slinging bottles back time's a brutal bitch with a cloak of fatigue and claws When the sun is up we are  sour cherry suckers blue raspberry slurpies and orange flip-flops  they call us,   "Good Friends"  Spring nuzzled the window   like a cat    so I let her in and I'm not too worried  about you anymore (That's why I'm grinning all caught-  the-canary-like) I'll go in to work tonight  graveyard shift   and think  "If this is my grave,    I'm glad to be buried  with Good Friends"

Gettiing Crushed

G

Gettiing Crushed

you're only so sweet changing lightbulbs for fun-sized petitehearts (call me baby?) and saying,  "i don't like it when you drink  like that." ah, what a doll left my favorite neck- lace on your nightstand a minute hint,   'remember me' (call me, baby) and saying,  "you always smile    when you are sleeping."  ah, but the fall kiss me, kiss me, kiss me If I ever had a doubt  it was doubting that I could go back now.

Spotlight

Artist // Hobbyist // Literature
Badges
Super Llama: Llamas are awesome! (36)
My Bio
“deliciously ironic and double-edged”
“ooh your hair smells like incense”

Charlotte: I just don't know what I'm supposed to be. I tried being a writer but I hate what I write. And I tried taking pictures but they're so mediocre, you know. Every girl goes through a photography phase. You know, like horses? You know? Take, uh, dumb pictures of your feet...

Favourite Visual Artist
Tracey Emin, Audrey Kawasaki
Favourite Movies
Rocky Horror/Sid & Nancy/Sweeney Todd/Ghost World/Donnie Darko/Girl, Interrupted/We Need to Talk About Kevin/Amelie/Fight Club/Lost in Translation/The Virgin Suicides/Ferris Bueller's Day Off/Sleepy Hollow/Addams Family Values/Eternal Sunshine/Avengers
Favourite TV Shows
My So-Called Life, Daria, American Horror Story, The Mighty Boosh, Black Books, Doctor Who, Sherlock, True Blood, Glee, The Big Bang Theory
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Grimes, Hole, Nirvana, Los Campesinos!, The Cure, The Smiths, Dresden Dolls, Vermillion Lies, Emilie Autumn, Amanda Palmer, Crystal Castles, Hannah Fury, Marina and the Diamonds, Jack Off Jill, The Crystals
Favourite Books
Dirty Blonde, The Virgin Suicides, The Bell Jar, American Gods, Lolita, Carrie, The Sandman, Prozac Nation, Jane Eyre, The Great Gatsby, Equal Rites, Good Omens, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1984, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Yellow Wallpaper
Favourite Writers
Sylvia Plath, Lemony Snicket, Neil Gaiman, Emilie Autumn, Edgar Allan Poe, Virginia Woolf, E.E. Cummings
Favourite Games
The Sims 3
Tools of the Trade
Black ink fountain pen, sketch pencils, Samsung camera.
Other Interests
angsty teen blogging, tea, witchcraft, queerfeminism, femme problems, words words words, tacky pink shit, ezra miller, scarlett johansson

lux was the last to go

lux was the last to go

i've just removed all the poems i like from my account here and on protag so i can enter them into the foyle young poet competition it feels like i've cut my soul down to size and sent them it i'm back to being overwhelmingly sad at the moment i can't wait until exams because at least coursework will be finished and i won't have to attend lessons (i've yet to revise for a GCSE anyway ughg uhgugh )

Why can't I be you?

Why can't I be you?

I'm back on the diets and exercise again. I suppose an active sense of self-hatred is better than the sleeping-until-sunset passivity in which I'm commonly entrenched. People keep demanding I discuss the future with them, as if I can see myself at all in ten years. It was even the discussion topic in my French class last week- I said I wanted to write but have no idea what I'm actually going to be, and left the classroom shaking. And worst of all, my parents have started asking me why I'm so certain I'm not going to Cambridge. I don't know, maybe I spent my teenage years in an eat-cry-don't eat-sleep-repeat cycle that left little room for e

oh, just shut up, you're only 15 and 364 days

oh, just shut up, you're only 15 and 364 days

i'm on one of those five minute detours into excitement and joy i want to dye my head and underarm hair bright colours and pastel colours and i want to get roses and poppies tattooed onto me and i want more ear piercings and i want nipple piercings and my parents can't even criticise me because my dad did it and his tongue as well so ha and i want to love people and i want to love people and i want to wear more clothes and less clothes and try more teas and read my fucking bookshelf already and pass art and take english and write poetry and submit my soul for publishing don't worry it'll pass in a moment

Comments 278

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CrimeRoyaleProfessional
Happy Birthday, you!
jammes0Hobbyist Traditional Artist
gotta like UK art
EvanescentRomanceHobbyist Writer
when you're in london with no income there's nothing else to do (♥◡‿◡)✿
jammes0Hobbyist Traditional Artist
london *.* i wish
CarmineFlameHobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks so much for the fav, I really appreciate the support :)
Carmine x :heart:
thanx for the watch :)
TheCandidFox General Artist
thanks for the fav darling ^_^