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About Literature / Artist Official Beta Tester charlesMale/United States Group :icongliitchmonth: gliitchmonth
a dynamic writing experiment
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Deviant for 13 Years
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poured the rest of my drink
in the toilet but knew they would
buy me another. heard
a kindred soul in the stall beside,
we are robbing ourselves,
aglow in the blacklight.
tonight will not be
remembered if we are
washed hands three times,
once for each wish:
for quiet,
for safety,
for bliss.
for this we push
ourselves to the brink.
youth is a sunk cost;
this dance floor reeks
of attempt.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 6 2
in a bind
crush that heel
through the earth, it's
passion on pins
and needless suspense.
it is tighter still,
ivy up the gait
rapt. waist snapped
seraphic, territory spats
of rash gazes.
clutch that
feeling, keep reeling
in every stray wanderer.
tie them up
proper, kiss off and
blush not,
this year is yours
to flaunt.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 1 2
so it is
sewn into
sore veins,
stored in the
sordid remains of the
story, strange as the
sporadic strains of
absorbing refrains
distorted by shame since the
storm brought a reign of
fortune and glory
unfurling but hardly
afforded the meaning we're
forcing. here at the
source of it all, we're
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 3 4
it's been a
series of
every night
for what feels like
a lifetime;
on this night
i realize that
the panicking face
is my own.
with a deep breath
it all feels
calm, the water
tastes bitter
but known,
i can see beyond
the fear for
on this night
i realize that
every night
it is i
being held down.
through the waves
and years,
follow the hands
to the wrists,
to the elbows,
and further.
on this night
i realize that
i am both victim and
the waters
will be void.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 27 2
call me a comma,
i need a small
breath. i need to feel
air in my
chest. i need,
and that says
something dire
about me,
makes me
establishes me
as less.
call me a coma,
i'll sleep
until death.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 10 2
creeds held
closer than
supposed to be
is control
slow and
but in the still
of night
speeding in
let them attempt
to lob laws
at this velocity.
god damn them.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 1 0
oh, god
the bell cracked
and can't find
its voice;
is it choice
to be strung up
and beaten?
what makes the cadence
of ringing ears
and bruising hearts
who are we
to call work
in absentia
we keep,
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 1 0
late night dive
oh it is miles
of failure, winding streams
that coil in the core
of my throat.
floating on my
back, thrashing with abandon;
it is possible to drown
when the lungs are
broken, my toes
jut, awkward. dragging my limbs
through what feels more
and more like
at fault,
i fall into a deeper
rash. thought i was
a prodigal but realize
i have always been
the car crash.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 1 0
you used to wear it every day
drowning in your
emoji and lectures
on god, death, and
fast food;
i would never ask you
to know me, but
here we are.
or aren't.
googling archaic words,
what the fuck is disport?
hit me up on discord
unless its late enough
for me to dream.
it's unraveling at
the shoulder seam,
never have i ever
thought to replace.
we say that memes
are a lot like
when you're asleep
i remind myself
of my failures.
i pull the sleeves
over my thumbs
and weep.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 5 2
so it is written
quoth blackly,
agony, pact of diagonal
staggering, stabs given
dagger tweaks, atrophy
after we've parted
your figure from
"your jagged teeth
wear thin, gather your
painful inadequacies
and lagging complacence.
sacrifice fleeting
hope, sins of your ragged
host now speak dangerous
fragments of gagging rope
"no wonder
here, only sheer
undoing. under
my lumbering
fear and be
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 4 6
sometimes the mirror
is less self and more abyss
with a gravity stabbing
through reflective mist.
warps through the air
and wraps around my wrist,
keeps me quiet by binding
my seizing limbs.
dead in the water,
i exist.
no weapon formed against me
was built by others;
my fashions are brilliant
i spin.
horror in an
intimate place,
i am sharpening the dinner plates
and shoving trash bags
into weeping faces.
there is evening sun
on the terror,
picturesque colors
bleeding on lace.
i sip tea
until the oxygen's
what a perfect
stasis i impart.
steep but you cannot
beat the taste.
as it is written,
symmetry is
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 8 2
we all know
a gun
is always
a threat.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 5 0
the hand of
she coughs up
brittle wings,
bright as a drizzle
of sparks.
tries singing,
but sharp.
starlings in flight
part ways with
the beats of their
she remarks
in cursive, sees the words
loop and flourish
and dismember her garden.
her embers
harden and shatter;
she's a smattering
of shards and
parched and unable
to drink, unable
to see, she's guarding her
face with her hands.
she coughs up
swashes and seraphim;
god is a font
of obsession.
meant for a lesson,
they observe her
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 11 2
the demon's in
the details,
checking her grammar and
banishing commas
to hell.
"you summon
but cannot spell
worth a damn,"
it growled, rattling
the monitor.
"well fuck me, right,"
she spat. "must be busy
running a firm
and my social life
into the ground.
you and your horrid kin
get to bask in the sound
of my sweet command."
the demon tried
to stifle a grin,
but instead
accidentally deleted
every word
in the document.
it looked back,
panicked, from the blank screen.
luckily she was filing,
back to the desk.
it muttered
"what is that basic
necromancy, two keys...
and with a shriek
it accepted death.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 5 5
piercing gaze
it cuts a cross section
through her, asks of her
everything, doesn't take
she reflects
only in her mind,
in mirrors
her formlessness
is betrayed.
void as the day
she first
thought to try,
crushed as the hope
for correcting
she would never
think her eyes
could shine.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 5 2
little warmths
she traces the pattern
of the damask wallpaper
behind her desk, she's always
been in love with the
flourish. she smiles,
warm sunbeams coaxing her
to peacefulness.
this is the most
safe space she has ever
she runs her fingertip
along the side of the
blade, she wonders what
it tastes like, she's one
step away.
she stays
quiet, turns off the desk
lamp. sits in the silence
of midnight.
it is too
she cries.
she traces a few
veins, contemplates
naming them.
considers sharing them
with strangers
on the internet,
waits for a minute
then digs her nails into
her skin.
she knows
they would tell her
to do it
she runs her credit card
debt up, purchases
red wine, lipstick, and
sex stuff, items for
a fun night
her desk chair is
a throne made for
in the morning,
she gathers up everything
she touched in a trashbag.
throws it all away
and envies
she trades her damask
wallpaper for darker shades,
solid as the way her
pupils appear.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 7 4

Random from writing

v. be your own
remind the dawn that she is welcome
in spite of all the times you slept through her
in favor of the night.
tell her you are sorry and that
artificial love is easily created but not so much
that it will fabricate a body of
insurmountable void that can only be filled by
the one your mind decided was the one.
tell her you were wrong and
blinded and
looking in all the wrong places for
a fix for this problem you didn't understand but managed to maintain,
tell her you're ready for her light and that
she was the piece you were missing to jumpstart the
life in you.
make promises to yourself to change and
wear small feats like victories, like they're the only thing you've ever
achieved, like
you could never get tired of the feeling of
filling out the hollow with
like you're proud of yourself.
be proud.
be your reason to live.
let light shine so bright through you that
your shadow has a shadow and the dark corners that scared you
late into the night are rev
:iconxfuture-boundx:xfuture-boundx 20 21
the spiderweb bursts into flames,
and at the edge of armageddon it is brave
to be present, not to hide inside
our empty shells, our mind-worn cares forgotten;
         the synchronicity of time spinning,
 and played back for you on the this side
 of apocalypse, riveted and revenant the
 corners of our minds slip into oblivion;
with the touch of integration on your teeth like plaque,
and the feeling of how it leaks on through to reality,
   you burned to find significance,
   but all it does it make it crispy.
:iconcreativelycliche:creativelycliche 7 4
hummingbirds are made of glass in the same way that
humans are made of hope.
we are fragile things:
we shatter at the slightest press of a fingertip,
& we are always finding ways to test
our mortality because we prefer not to think about
the unknown.
we stretch our skin across our bones
& then snap them
just because we can.
we close our eyes & wish for wings so we can fly
because everything we do is fight or f l i g h t
& nothing more.
:iconinthespacebetween:inthespacebetween 25 8
there is more / day to dawn
but a traitor of stars / trader of lies;
"—i miss seeing the sunrise"
so watch it now, with your damaged eyes
the burning jewel of 
crescent moon / cresting hills
the sun is but a morning-star.
< (O) >
(endings? never heard of 'em)
daisy chain witnesses
oh this viciousness—
photosynthesis, shoring up sweet and
intricate innocence
drops of syrup on the tongue
spring cookies, the kind with four-color glitter,
boxed in white waxen paper:
green yellow / pink / baby blue.
and now i beg, no, don't ever let go
all is well, love / or it will be / so
:iconpatchworklynx:PatchworkLynx 22 8
turbid waters
I’m going to tell you a lie:
       I can’t live without you
you deathgrip to these placid waters
       while I contemplate
               the nuance of ‘we’
I’ve dreamt of raging rivers and sonorous seas
       that low whale-chested bellow
               glaciers tipped on edge
I’ve made love to the open ocean
       salt spray in my face
               deep creatures trawling below
I’ve beached myself on you
       and now I’m finished sunning
               you knew
:icondialtonepoetry:dialtonepoetry 9 9
sometimes, the ache's a nighttime thing, a lonely thing,
a window-cracked-to-hear-the-rain thing.
sometimes, all you can do is wait for the morning.
i know you feel like you gotta fix what's broken but
some things are better left unspoken
until you can see the light on his face.
sweetheart, you're a delicate thing, a tear-stained thing,
a fall-fast, fall-hard, fall-in-love thing.
i know you feel like you're walking on glass but
sometimes you have to wait for this to pass
& try again tomorrow.
:iconinthespacebetween:inthespacebetween 23 5
today is a liminal space,
broken hearted, broken
bones in stasis waiting
                 wait a little
longer for the goodbye
did these years mean
anything? is the echo in my
heart as false as the
walls, as turning off the light
for the last time? i am lost
     breathing anything but
air in the meantime, flowers
on the roof and grass ungrowing,
pools of water aching for change-
half my life is gone. you weep
for new beginnings and old
partings, memories i do not hold.
i leave here a wanderer.
:iconh0p3-t0-d13:H0p3-t0-D13 17 14
in retrospect
               so the hills have become cicadas, swarming & calling us home.  
these fragile souls, blinded & burning,  savages sacrificing themselves to fluorescent moons.
      a herd of ghost horses stampede through the cul-de-sac, suburban streetlights
               casting a neon halo over their deception, the headlights of passerby
                                          leading the believers out of night.
                & when i tell you i am leaving, what i mean is that the desert
                                        has a strange way of finding you inside of it.
  a red river meandering its way through the vast mirage of
:iconsuccesswithhonor:successwithhonor 12 4
HUB n. 0873
black swan dive into improper cat-a-lyst-s
tunnels bored into the city machine
hear the screws drill down into jet-midas
whose every stroke is shadows of clouds
cajole the masters lest they forget gentility
di-syn-chron-ous UNITAL
cr-Ane la-dle FEVER DREAMS
metricalis: crys'to-lon:
~ n. Coke/p/ (977 F) CSR hot-violence extrudyne strength;
rated on the Ashreides convexity gauge
~ n. Sand / Salt / Sawdust /p furnace distilled. add n -88tR
core machine: (Dysteyvasnt occulide 0.77 sG)
black powder rocket motor: cinderae coniferous tarc
polar aromatic acids (vT-8073.41 F / +/- 9 n)
...fled the approaching cataclysm in Block-N3. Synvathraine ignited the engines before Coovlcaisse launched his titans. Hedronides called down fire from Heaven...smoking blue curls of shrapnel rained upon bastard and innocent alike.
V,3.3.1,8S V-Alkanes
Log: 18.Severus.2088
:iconblacksand459:Blacksand459 4 2
we drove home on rain-slicked roads
with the radio down low
and our spirits high.
the rain whispers through my window
just like we did in the car
an hour ago.
i always ride shotgun;
drivers alternate between those
who have their licenses,
but the laughter stays the same.
we are, in many ways, the good kids,
which allows us a fair amount
of privilege.
we can go wherever we want,
granted we keep in touch,
so we do.
:iconinthespacebetween:inthespacebetween 19 14
whisper whisper
in a lighted funnel of dust, a melody rises.
call me song & that is what i will become,
alive in a star on the shelf of a cluttered sky,
stillbodied & unstuck like a trembling clothesline
or nestled palm cupped to catch the wind as it whistles by.
drowning in echoes, the bodies hum a solemn tune
in their absence.
:iconsuccesswithhonor:successwithhonor 11 8
I am a woman
we pluck flowers from the field
       to sit upon our breasts
take your ribbons        take
your red and yellow blooms
they console us while
       that dread march continues
pick up the pace of our mothers
       heft this memory
singing        do not do not do not
I am a woman
looking into the mirror
       away from words etched into
                frosted pane
I am a woman        and
I fear I’ve forgotten
languages I’m supposed to know
       our language
freely versed        but costly
kept a thousand years
:icondialtonepoetry:dialtonepoetry 65 41
modern myths by calliopen modern myths :iconcalliopen:calliopen 16 10
these are the artists you should definitely know about



how do you spend your downtime? 

7 deviants said gaming
5 deviants said writing
4 deviants said reading
4 deviants said tv/movies
2 deviants said music
No deviants said fitness
No deviants said other (comment please?)


Artist | Literature
United States
it is one of my favorite series and the latest entry does a great job of honoring the past while weaving the present/future

this game makes me laugh out loud at times. i LOVE the way the characters interact. i could go on and on and on about how well designed each aspect of dmc5 is.

on a related note, if you think DmC (the weird reboot) is somehow better than DMC 1-5 then pls unfollow me forever not joking

so what have y'all been hype about lately?


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JustACapharnaum Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2019
Hello gliitchlord  :wave: by elicoronel16 and welcome home!! 

Thank you for joining the family of artists here at :icontheartistlounge:. We are eager to see your display of skill and talent and have it showcased in the Group! If you have any questions feel free to message us, and don't forget to check out the Group's rules

Again, we say WELCOME HOME!   Cheers and Applause - NaNoEmo Day 8 by Ridley126

TheArtistLounge's Team
DeeryDeerth Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
maybe here? is the last stanza on your page?
(1 Reply)
oviedomedina Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2018
Hey there man, I gotta thank you for the Watch, the feature and everything! Much appreaciated! :highfive:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2018   Writer
Just wanted to let you know you're cool and stuff. :heart:
(1 Reply)
peaseblossoms Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2018   Writer
happiest of (belated) birthdays to one of my favorite poets of all time!!!!! you’re absolutely wonderful and i hope you had an amazing day!! keep on gliitching :hug::heart:
(1 Reply)
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