We had met in the heart of England;
the middle of fucking nowhere.
His voice was this deep,
aged whiskey.
I wanted to drown in the amber -
drink myself to the bottom
of his larynx.
When we were twenty-four, he'd promised
the big city was where I wanted to be -
where we wanted to be.
When the sun went down and
orange flames licked the sky, we'd worked in bars
and stayed up till dawn.
The casinos did the best breakfasts,
at 4am.
We'd licked the plates clean and
gambled our money away through his poker face
and my cocktail dress -
a sequined dogs dinner.
At twenty-seven, we'd moved to the outskirts.
The night skies were so clear
we'd grab the stars by the handful
and counted them like beads
on an abacus.
But the city called us back,
every night,
that city of nymphs and monsters.
Featured
Literature
Slum Gods
HippieHebe HippieHebe
8
13
Literature
darkest angel mine
globetrotter girl,
find me in the dark purple arms of the galaxy
and take me to a small town i've never heard of before.
i need security and the warmth of
your dark hazel eyes.
the moths rush in at witchlight, but the dark roses
they seek are hidden in your hair,
and the light of the moon is nothing compared to the light in your eyes.
hold me until i slip into hades.
find me in the dark purple arms of the galaxy
and take me to a small town i've never heard of before.
i need security and the warmth of
your dark hazel eyes.
the moths rush in at witchlight, but the dark roses
they seek are hidden in your hair,
and the light of the moon is nothing compared to the light in your eyes.
hold me until i slip into hades.
sairey sairey
12
7
Literature
uncomfortable
we walk on
opposite
sides of the street,
the echoes of our
converse hitting
the broken pavement
joins the sounds of our
even breathes to form
the comfortable silence
that crackles softly between
old friends
but I don’t want to be
comfortable
I want to be
u n c om fo r t abl e
itching and bleeding
I want to be inside you,
nestled into the pit
of your stomach,
I'll play fetch with your ribs
and chew on your heart strings
until they
S--N--A--
- --P
like the well worn strings of a guitar,
the same guitar I’ll use to
serenade your restless soul until you're
throwing rocks at my window--
"Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow."
but we all know how
opposite
sides of the street,
the echoes of our
converse hitting
the broken pavement
joins the sounds of our
even breathes to form
the comfortable silence
that crackles softly between
old friends
but I don’t want to be
comfortable
I want to be
u n c om fo r t abl e
itching and bleeding
I want to be inside you,
nestled into the pit
of your stomach,
I'll play fetch with your ribs
and chew on your heart strings
until they
S--N--A--
- --P
like the well worn strings of a guitar,
the same guitar I’ll use to
serenade your restless soul until you're
throwing rocks at my window--
"Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow."
but we all know how
crystallized-skies crystallized-skies
24
23
Literature
--
once in a while i get a little sad
once in a while i stand in the rain
and let it do the crying for me because
i have forgotten how to.
once in a while i stand in the rain
and let it do the crying for me because
i have forgotten how to.
sairey sairey
14
6
Literature
xciv. you are the stardust between my sheets
silently our bodies
meld together in waves
of hot and cold as our
arms and legs tangle
like comets dancing at
the feet of Orion,
your soft and lecherous
lips sweep across my
stinging cheeks as your
delicate fingers work orbits
around my hips leaving
stardust trails in their wake;
we are two bodies bound
to collide like the brilliant
colors of the northern lights
for we are cosmic lovers:
you are my shining galaxy
and I am a black hole--
I will swallow you whole.
meld together in waves
of hot and cold as our
arms and legs tangle
like comets dancing at
the feet of Orion,
your soft and lecherous
lips sweep across my
stinging cheeks as your
delicate fingers work orbits
around my hips leaving
stardust trails in their wake;
we are two bodies bound
to collide like the brilliant
colors of the northern lights
for we are cosmic lovers:
you are my shining galaxy
and I am a black hole--
I will swallow you whole.
crystallized-skies crystallized-skies
35
27
Literature
[7] intimate affairs
if ever were I to have a lover
it would be with my pillowcase--
it has seen me at my messiest,
sprawled out raw and bleeding
as wrenching sobs vibrate
through my chest and my fingers
are white knuckled and numb from
grasping at my slipping reality
just a little too hard.
it has seen me blank and reeling
as I contemplate my finite existence
amongst quagmires of
stars in the small hours of the
morning when sleep has left
me to combat my landmind
thoughts alone as I build
and break myself into
bite-size quantums.
it has seen me in my rarest of forms,
when my body feels like its
catching fire as a radiant
buzz unwinds the reluctant
knots that have settle in my bones
and i can feel that stupid grin
parting my lips so that
I may let my quiet world know
how truly content I am.
if ever were I to have a lover
it would be with my pillowcase
because knows me
better than anyone else.
it would be with my pillowcase--
it has seen me at my messiest,
sprawled out raw and bleeding
as wrenching sobs vibrate
through my chest and my fingers
are white knuckled and numb from
grasping at my slipping reality
just a little too hard.
it has seen me blank and reeling
as I contemplate my finite existence
amongst quagmires of
stars in the small hours of the
morning when sleep has left
me to combat my landmind
thoughts alone as I build
and break myself into
bite-size quantums.
it has seen me in my rarest of forms,
when my body feels like its
catching fire as a radiant
buzz unwinds the reluctant
knots that have settle in my bones
and i can feel that stupid grin
parting my lips so that
I may let my quiet world know
how truly content I am.
if ever were I to have a lover
it would be with my pillowcase
because knows me
better than anyone else.
crystallized-skies crystallized-skies
8
6
Literature
Ignorance
Little lion boy,
You aren't as brave as you think.
Your roar will break your own foundation
And then you'll watch yourself sink.
Little lion boy,
Your shadow isn't that tall.
You aren't invulnerable to darkness
And one day you'll watch yourself fall.
Little lion boy,
You're not the only one who can sharpen their teeth.
They'll hunt down your pride like prey
And you'll watch as it gets buried beneath.
You aren't as brave as you think.
Your roar will break your own foundation
And then you'll watch yourself sink.
Little lion boy,
Your shadow isn't that tall.
You aren't invulnerable to darkness
And one day you'll watch yourself fall.
Little lion boy,
You're not the only one who can sharpen their teeth.
They'll hunt down your pride like prey
And you'll watch as it gets buried beneath.
Saddening Saddening
1
2
Literature
a dying voice message
the answering machine replies with the
manners of a madman, always the same
“please leave a message after the tone”
the beep always tears my heart a little, im
sorry. i was too late, or too early,
i have terrible timing trying crying flying
falling in love with falling. the adrenaline
rush-rushes through me leaves me tingling in
stinging rhythms, uninterested beats half-in love with
thrust-upon dreams of thrice upon a time.
the houseguest in the garage is learning how to die,
bit-by-bitter and the smoke stings my eyes.
i have a pet dragon under my bed, thought it was
a monster until my daddy stopped fighting it.
they’re not so mythical after all-
manners of a madman, always the same
“please leave a message after the tone”
the beep always tears my heart a little, im
sorry. i was too late, or too early,
i have terrible timing trying crying flying
falling in love with falling. the adrenaline
rush-rushes through me leaves me tingling in
stinging rhythms, uninterested beats half-in love with
thrust-upon dreams of thrice upon a time.
the houseguest in the garage is learning how to die,
bit-by-bitter and the smoke stings my eyes.
i have a pet dragon under my bed, thought it was
a monster until my daddy stopped fighting it.
they’re not so mythical after all-
calliopen calliopen
9
8
Literature
how to maybe fall in love
1.
you don't. at least,
not at first, not for you; you sit
in the back of the room and kind
of admire the way
their laugh shakes
their shoulders back and forth,
rhythmic mimicry found unrhyming, unrehearsed.
it's refreshing, you think.
and slowly maybe you realize that hey, they
aren't too bad looking and hey, you
kind of like the way their eyes
dart away if you catch them looking at you,
and hey.
you feel your heartbeat for the first
time in years.
2.
you think you might like them.
kind of. maybe. you really don't know, but you
like to think you do
(because if you wish hard enough
some fairy godmother you know
doesn't exist might help this existential crisis going
on that consists of holy hell how do i DO this-).
but you like to think you know what you're doing.
and so you go on a
date, then two, then three, and you find
you really like that they hold your
smile in their eyes and hey, maybe
holding hands isn't like being trapped like you thought.
you learn everything ane
you don't. at least,
not at first, not for you; you sit
in the back of the room and kind
of admire the way
their laugh shakes
their shoulders back and forth,
rhythmic mimicry found unrhyming, unrehearsed.
it's refreshing, you think.
and slowly maybe you realize that hey, they
aren't too bad looking and hey, you
kind of like the way their eyes
dart away if you catch them looking at you,
and hey.
you feel your heartbeat for the first
time in years.
2.
you think you might like them.
kind of. maybe. you really don't know, but you
like to think you do
(because if you wish hard enough
some fairy godmother you know
doesn't exist might help this existential crisis going
on that consists of holy hell how do i DO this-).
but you like to think you know what you're doing.
and so you go on a
date, then two, then three, and you find
you really like that they hold your
smile in their eyes and hey, maybe
holding hands isn't like being trapped like you thought.
you learn everything ane
Khaimin Khaimin
221
84
Literature
I Just Want to Understand.
You know the shreds of my story.
Lately, I've even given you the glue
So that you can piece it all together,
And just understand me.
So why won't you let me in?
You gave me a sheet of paper,
And bare snippets of the rest.
I tried offering my own glue,
But you just threw it away.
I just want to understand.
I don't want you to hurt,
I just want to know how it feels.
I want to be empathetic,
And maybe even learn sympathy.
I just need you to speak to me.
Tell me what hurts, and let's dissect it
And understand why it's killing you.
Just let me in so that I, too, can see -
And together we can beat it down.
Lately, I've even given you the glue
So that you can piece it all together,
And just understand me.
So why won't you let me in?
You gave me a sheet of paper,
And bare snippets of the rest.
I tried offering my own glue,
But you just threw it away.
I just want to understand.
I don't want you to hurt,
I just want to know how it feels.
I want to be empathetic,
And maybe even learn sympathy.
I just need you to speak to me.
Tell me what hurts, and let's dissect it
And understand why it's killing you.
Just let me in so that I, too, can see -
And together we can beat it down.
LMW-The-Poet LMW-The-Poet
31
32
Literature
it's after midnight
raindrops
trickle down my back,
running along
the curvature of
my spine like two
lovers chasing after their
happily-ever-afters.
the wind is whipping
the trees back and forth
as if they’re living metronomes
rocking in time
to the frantic fluttering
of the heart swinging
haphazardly on
my sleeve.
I look up into the
cracking sky watching
its imperfections flash
before my starry eyes as
its icy fingers reach
down to stroke my
chilled cheekbones--
his touch was as
soft as yours.
trickle down my back,
running along
the curvature of
my spine like two
lovers chasing after their
happily-ever-afters.
the wind is whipping
the trees back and forth
as if they’re living metronomes
rocking in time
to the frantic fluttering
of the heart swinging
haphazardly on
my sleeve.
I look up into the
cracking sky watching
its imperfections flash
before my starry eyes as
its icy fingers reach
down to stroke my
chilled cheekbones--
his touch was as
soft as yours.
crystallized-skies crystallized-skies
19
23
Literature
interstellar
there is
something about the night that
makes me want to fly.
once, i had a dream
where my fingers could touch
the sky—and i pulled down the stars
from the velveteen darkness
to stitch them into my
skin. i was nebulae;
a smoldering quasar as
the universe flowed
through my ravenous veins.
a supernova landed on my
tongue and the bittersweet taste of
one million galaxies
circulated into my soul.
in that moment,
i became the cosmos—
with asteroids in place of eyes
and pluto orbiting between the confines
of my ribcage.
my wings are made of stardust
and luminescent constellations.
with them,
i will soar higher
than any god
ever has.
something about the night that
makes me want to fly.
once, i had a dream
where my fingers could touch
the sky—and i pulled down the stars
from the velveteen darkness
to stitch them into my
skin. i was nebulae;
a smoldering quasar as
the universe flowed
through my ravenous veins.
a supernova landed on my
tongue and the bittersweet taste of
one million galaxies
circulated into my soul.
in that moment,
i became the cosmos—
with asteroids in place of eyes
and pluto orbiting between the confines
of my ribcage.
my wings are made of stardust
and luminescent constellations.
with them,
i will soar higher
than any god
ever has.
lupus-astra lupus-astra
148
48
Literature
-
i. the world would be a better place if
hatred
no longer existed
because
there is far too little time
to hold such bitterness in our hearts.
ii. the world would be a better place if
we found homes
in each other
because
home is where the heart is,
and my heart lies with you.
iii. the world would be a better place if
we learned
to believe in ourselves
because
it’s okay to fall
when you will rise once more.
iv. the world would be a better place if
we accepted
the scars that adorn our bodies
because
there’s beauty
in our flaws.
v. the world is a better place
because of
you
because of your kindness
and everything you do.
thank you.
hatred
no longer existed
because
there is far too little time
to hold such bitterness in our hearts.
ii. the world would be a better place if
we found homes
in each other
because
home is where the heart is,
and my heart lies with you.
iii. the world would be a better place if
we learned
to believe in ourselves
because
it’s okay to fall
when you will rise once more.
iv. the world would be a better place if
we accepted
the scars that adorn our bodies
because
there’s beauty
in our flaws.
v. the world is a better place
because of
you
because of your kindness
and everything you do.
thank you.
impxria impxria
30
5
Literature
.
she'll hold him tight tonight
and dread the coming mo(u)rning
and dread the coming mo(u)rning
daybreaksmiles daybreaksmiles
106
42
Literature
My Everything
My skin feels so bare without your arms around it. My lips feel so unused when not pressed against yours. My vision feels wasted if I am not looking into your eyes, my voice misused when not speaking to you. Words are only left unsaid when not spoken for you. My world means nothing if it is not you that I can share it with. For you are my everything; my love. Badxrain, 2014
BadxRain BadxRain
1
0
Literature
Your Escort
I am a white hare
Intrusive, yes
Intriguing, yes
Misleading?
Maybe
But you would not dare
Disregard, no
Deny, no
Subdue?
Maybe
Surely, we have a time limit,
You
And
I
So chase after me, enlighten the pigment
Of
Your
Mind
Because
My entropy
is magnificent
As is your destiny
And
You
Will
Undoubtedly
Fall
Tumble
And
s
p
n
i
Flood yourself with tears which glisten;
you will swim
So,
Follow me, and do not hold your stare
Trace the pattern of my agile gait
With your own
Do not produce a BLARE
For it will dig up my will to compensate
Intrusive, yes
Intriguing, yes
Misleading?
Maybe
But you would not dare
Disregard, no
Deny, no
Subdue?
Maybe
Surely, we have a time limit,
You
And
I
So chase after me, enlighten the pigment
Of
Your
Mind
Because
My entropy
is magnificent
As is your destiny
And
You
Will
Undoubtedly
Fall
Tumble
And
s
p
n
i
Flood yourself with tears which glisten;
you will swim
So,
Follow me, and do not hold your stare
Trace the pattern of my agile gait
With your own
Do not produce a BLARE
For it will dig up my will to compensate
EphemeralMonochrome EphemeralMonochrome
2
5
Favourites
Literature
Superlative Inferiority
We, as humans, are imperfect.
That which is imperfect cannot create something perfect.
What we see as perfection is nothing but a mirage,
Something conjured by our hunger for something flawless.
That which is imperfect cannot create something perfect.
What we see as perfection is nothing but a mirage,
Something conjured by our hunger for something flawless.
FuyuA FuyuA
2
4
Literature
you have seven days to live.
1.the news doesn't hurt:
it's his eyes that hurt you,
the glimmer of his past
creeping in just like
his father used to creep in
at three a.m.
with a sin on his mind
and rage on his hands.
he waits for you to react,
but you don't
because he's suddenly seven again,
hiding bruises
while mommy cries
in a ball on the couch.
2.you think time
is a funny thing.
people talk about it
like it is an object:
"I need more time," they say,
like they will go to the store later
and buy more.
but you know that time
is more like an ocean wave,
with an endless
pounding that continues
long after we greet the dirt,
and we want more time,
but time doesn't want us.
3.he tries to force you
into his wrists,
his ankles, his collarbone.
he thinks that if he
loves you enough,
he can save you.
you know that he can't,
so you cut through him
night after night,
searching for an exit.
4.sometimes death scares you.
you remind yourself that
everything ends,
no matter how much you want
an infin
it's his eyes that hurt you,
the glimmer of his past
creeping in just like
his father used to creep in
at three a.m.
with a sin on his mind
and rage on his hands.
he waits for you to react,
but you don't
because he's suddenly seven again,
hiding bruises
while mommy cries
in a ball on the couch.
2.you think time
is a funny thing.
people talk about it
like it is an object:
"I need more time," they say,
like they will go to the store later
and buy more.
but you know that time
is more like an ocean wave,
with an endless
pounding that continues
long after we greet the dirt,
and we want more time,
but time doesn't want us.
3.he tries to force you
into his wrists,
his ankles, his collarbone.
he thinks that if he
loves you enough,
he can save you.
you know that he can't,
so you cut through him
night after night,
searching for an exit.
4.sometimes death scares you.
you remind yourself that
everything ends,
no matter how much you want
an infin
littleblueraccoon littleblueraccoon
278
113
Literature
baby, I'm starving
Knife and fork in fist
at the table I wait,
served up for me
your heart on a plate.
at the table I wait,
served up for me
your heart on a plate.
daybreaksmiles daybreaksmiles
22
23
Literature
please don't leave without them this time
Wait
don't you want
all these little
pieces of you?
I've been
keeping them safe
in my heart.
don't you want
all these little
pieces of you?
I've been
keeping them safe
in my heart.
daybreaksmiles daybreaksmiles
59
30
Literature
Snow
Falling, falling white;
kamikaze soldiers in
the darkest of nights.
kamikaze soldiers in
the darkest of nights.
Almost-Alcibiades Almost-Alcibiades
12
12
Literature
A lesson in realism:
you are
only human.
There is no such
thing as stardust
floating in your veins or
gloomy poetry stitched
right into your heart.
Your blood is made of
iron - unbreakable,
unbending and unmatched
by any other stronghold,
for you are a fortress
that they will never invade.
Stand up,
darling;
wipe those tears away
and know that
you are the only one
who can reinforce these walls.
only human.
There is no such
thing as stardust
floating in your veins or
gloomy poetry stitched
right into your heart.
Your blood is made of
iron - unbreakable,
unbending and unmatched
by any other stronghold,
for you are a fortress
that they will never invade.
Stand up,
darling;
wipe those tears away
and know that
you are the only one
who can reinforce these walls.
lupus-astra lupus-astra
423
93
Literature
6 ways on learning how to swim
1. toes first
when i was younger i thought i was
beautiful. not like the other girls, of course, but i thought that
the sun followed me around because it thought i was pretty.
and i am a shop-a-holic. money burns a hole in
the back pocket of my jeans because i love to spend it.
but i do not like to go shopping. i love the idea and hate the activity.
there are few days that trying on clothes brings me
happiness because there are even fewer days that i love my
body enough to look in a mirror.
but i am trying.
("i love this dress! i can't believe that it fit!
i dropped another size!"
"taylor."
"what, mom? why are you looking at me like that?"
"...oh, please. one size?")
2. floating
there are days when i don't leave my house and there are days
that i spend the time to put on makeup and
nice clothes to open the door and feel the fresh air and
to admire all the lovely, smiling, silently judging people who
i think are looking at me, but they probably aren't
when i was younger i thought i was
beautiful. not like the other girls, of course, but i thought that
the sun followed me around because it thought i was pretty.
and i am a shop-a-holic. money burns a hole in
the back pocket of my jeans because i love to spend it.
but i do not like to go shopping. i love the idea and hate the activity.
there are few days that trying on clothes brings me
happiness because there are even fewer days that i love my
body enough to look in a mirror.
but i am trying.
("i love this dress! i can't believe that it fit!
i dropped another size!"
"taylor."
"what, mom? why are you looking at me like that?"
"...oh, please. one size?")
2. floating
there are days when i don't leave my house and there are days
that i spend the time to put on makeup and
nice clothes to open the door and feel the fresh air and
to admire all the lovely, smiling, silently judging people who
i think are looking at me, but they probably aren't
A-Lovely-Anxiety A-Lovely-Anxiety
327
129
Literature
How to love a girl who can't love herself.
one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
two.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
three.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
two.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
three.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
lupus-astra lupus-astra
4,521
1,321
Literature
It is 10:50 p.m.
9:06 p.m.
the eyes in the mirror won't stop staring back at me.
9:11 p.m.
is that really me?
9:23 p.m.
those can't be my lips. they're too ugly.
9:31 p.m.
and my cheeks. who would ever want to caress those things?
9:46 p.m.
i need to get up. goddammit, stop looking at yourself!
9:58 p.m.
no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
10:13 p.m.
hah. i've become like narcissus. wonder where my echo is?
10:27 p.m.
fuck. fuck this. fuck me. fuck everyone.
10:38 p.m.
why can't this all just stop already?
10:44 p.m.
don't you dare cry you pathetic, ugly, disgusting creature.
10:50 p.m.
i'll never find what i wa
the eyes in the mirror won't stop staring back at me.
9:11 p.m.
is that really me?
9:23 p.m.
those can't be my lips. they're too ugly.
9:31 p.m.
and my cheeks. who would ever want to caress those things?
9:46 p.m.
i need to get up. goddammit, stop looking at yourself!
9:58 p.m.
no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
10:13 p.m.
hah. i've become like narcissus. wonder where my echo is?
10:27 p.m.
fuck. fuck this. fuck me. fuck everyone.
10:38 p.m.
why can't this all just stop already?
10:44 p.m.
don't you dare cry you pathetic, ugly, disgusting creature.
10:50 p.m.
i'll never find what i wa
lupus-astra lupus-astra
70
25
Literature
p-o-e-t is but four letters.
I'm not a poet.
I am a
I
biologist:
dissecting life
and reconstructing the deconstructed
into impossible architecture,
extracting the right chromosomes,
inserting into paper plasmids:
linguistic engineering.
II
dancer:
In a tango of typography
words will flow
to the beat of pens,
stomp of the keyboard,
typewriter's applause.
III
sacrifice:
watch as I take my blades of ink
and bleed the truth
into the cosmic bathtub,
muddy the water in melodrama,
trap the world in a vermilion spiral
drifting downwards in blank verse.
IV
creator:
I doodle imagery
in the sketches of complexity,
paint universes in a
brush dripped in metaphors,
simile-based watercolour dripping off notebooks
in tears, laughter and literature.
V
You can't contain this dance in one word.
I am a
I
biologist:
dissecting life
and reconstructing the deconstructed
into impossible architecture,
extracting the right chromosomes,
inserting into paper plasmids:
linguistic engineering.
II
dancer:
In a tango of typography
words will flow
to the beat of pens,
stomp of the keyboard,
typewriter's applause.
III
sacrifice:
watch as I take my blades of ink
and bleed the truth
into the cosmic bathtub,
muddy the water in melodrama,
trap the world in a vermilion spiral
drifting downwards in blank verse.
IV
creator:
I doodle imagery
in the sketches of complexity,
paint universes in a
brush dripped in metaphors,
simile-based watercolour dripping off notebooks
in tears, laughter and literature.
V
You can't contain this dance in one word.
AyeAye12 AyeAye12
25
70
Literature
eight ways you've made me small
1. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
loving me
loving me
loving me;
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
either.
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
you
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
her.
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
loving me
loving me
loving me;
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
either.
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
you
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
her.
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
your-methamphetamine your-methamphetamine
46
53
Literature
sati(ate)d
it's ironic,
isn't it? the way
they say "hunger gnaws"
like the way our teeth
scrape against bones.
for all the
calories that are counted,
you still feel
empty. you aren't
beautiful until
you are digesting
nothing but air
and maybe your own guilt.
that's just the way
living is these
days: swallowing
glass shards to
slice up your insides so
you can ignore
the other kind of pain your
stomach is feeling.
but when people ask
if you're doing okay you just
smile and nod even though
you can't help but
think "if honesty was
tangible, i'd eat it right
now."
life has
an acquired taste and
some days you'd
like to rip your
tongue out.
isn't it? the way
they say "hunger gnaws"
like the way our teeth
scrape against bones.
for all the
calories that are counted,
you still feel
empty. you aren't
beautiful until
you are digesting
nothing but air
and maybe your own guilt.
that's just the way
living is these
days: swallowing
glass shards to
slice up your insides so
you can ignore
the other kind of pain your
stomach is feeling.
but when people ask
if you're doing okay you just
smile and nod even though
you can't help but
think "if honesty was
tangible, i'd eat it right
now."
life has
an acquired taste and
some days you'd
like to rip your
tongue out.
lupus-astra lupus-astra
181
55
Literature
You.
You. Do you know what you do to me? Like honestly, are you aware of what's happening in my head? Not too many people can make things like that happen. In fact, no one has that power. You focus my thoughts. You make me have a reason to just daydream. You make me actually remember my dreams. That doesn't happen to me. My mind is always in a mess. It never has a single thought but you caused me to actually have a reason to just stop and think about you. I start to think about how you look at me and simply smile after I've done something weird or different. Or I think about how my heart stops functioning the minute you hug me. I didn't know it was physically possible to not breathe for longer than a minute but you force me to stop. I think about how you smell so delicious that it's addicting. Your smell seeps into my brain causing me to lose the ability to focus on anything but you. School becomes pointless, homework becomes a distant memory and life just stops. I often think about how you
monni18 monni18
12
9
Deviants
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***UPDATE GUYS! I've found another lovely contest that I think you all will love. It's being hosted by the awesome Lissomer and it's allllll about crazy colours. It's a micro contest so the deadline will be coming up soon but I think it'll be a fun way to get creative. You can read all about the contest here. lissomer.deviantart.com/journa…
I think from now on I'm just gonna keep a running (updated) journal of all the contests and challenges I found around the lit community here at dA so that I can pass them on to all you out there looking for a little extra inspiration.
~
All righty my lovelies. I have a contest feature for you!
The lovely ezradeacon is hosting a wonderfully creative contest. It's all about Love Letters and is for both prose and poetry.
The prizes are awesome and the deadline is December 31, 2014 so you have plenty of time to perfect your pieces.
You can check out the contest journal here. --> ezradeacon.deviantart.com/jour…
I just thought I'd pass this along to you guys. If any of you do enter the contest, please send me links. I'd love to read them!
That's it for now, ghosties. Jade out.
I think from now on I'm just gonna keep a running (updated) journal of all the contests and challenges I found around the lit community here at dA so that I can pass them on to all you out there looking for a little extra inspiration.
~
All righty my lovelies. I have a contest feature for you!
The lovely ezradeacon is hosting a wonderfully creative contest. It's all about Love Letters and is for both prose and poetry.
The prizes are awesome and the deadline is December 31, 2014 so you have plenty of time to perfect your pieces. You can check out the contest journal here. --> ezradeacon.deviantart.com/jour…
I just thought I'd pass this along to you guys. If any of you do enter the contest, please send me links. I'd love to read them!
That's it for now, ghosties. Jade out.
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Admins
Founder
Comments
Hello, I was hoping to submit some of my written work to your gallery, but before I do, are there any particular submission rules? Thanks so much!
Hello! As long as it fits into the categories listed within the gallery, no! If you have any sensitive/NSFW work all that I ask it that it is tagged properly.
