hopeburnsblue's avatar
I wear my he(art) on my sleeve.
404 Watchers58.2K Page Views582 Deviations
0Comments
1Favourites
B
Bodee
I. I find him curled upon the sill smelling of sunshine filtered through a window screen as only cats can. I nuzzle his fur and breathe in deep. II. The world is his playground. The bath tub is an echo chamber for his chirping toy mouse, the shipping box a fort, the reusable grocery bag a runaway train car-- and now he's off with the cap to my water bottle. III. His tail bristles as he spies my stuffed calico. He sniffs, cocks his head, then swats her shoulder as if to laugh and say he'd known all along she wasn't real. IV. At last, I have solved the Sock Monster case. I found him in the open dryer while folding laundry. Nevr mind he alrea
28Comments
20Favourites
M
Misnomer
Those who shun labels: who's to say what's in a name? Ere I named what was, I was yet to awaken. You say box; I say cocoon.
0Comments
2Favourites
I
Immeasurable
Sister of my heart, to the moon and back again isn't half as much.
4Comments
6Favourites
A
Adrift
Let me sink into a lavender ocean and dream.
2Comments
6Favourites
C
Clockwork
It's coming. I can feel it in my bones. They know it like they know the ache of an impending storm. And they are weary. I am weary with knowing and avoiding, with grieving and wondering why I sometimes still grieve. I am weary with what once was pride but is now shame thanks in part to the clash of two very different traumas, one that made me glad to be alive and the other when I forgot I'd wanted to be. The train whistle blows and then passes, its Doppler fade setting with the sun over one day, one calendar day that still carries astounding weight.
5Comments
11Favourites
S
Showing Up Is Half the Battle
The rainbow is feeble, a mere waning crescent above the expressway, but she gives it her all. It just makes me wonder why, on days when I feel faint, I forget to be amazed by my own colors.
4Comments
8Favourites
F
Failure to Maintain Control of Vehicle
I'm coming to a fork in the road less traveled, and I know I'm running out of time. I can feel my wheels turning, tractionless in the mire. And my only thought is to keep hold of the rattling handlebars known as my mind.
5Comments
7Favourites
I
Imprint
In first grade, I scratched "Kelsey" into the siding of my white bookshelf. My parents were dismayed, but apart from the aesthetic, I had no explanation nor any friends who bore that name. Little did I know what it would come to mean-- that, decades later, my blue ballpoint would alchemize and become your voice on the phone or the year of joy and growth and tragedy we've shared since. And though my penmanship is feeble as ever, I find I still like the look of it as I etch your name again into my heart.
2Comments
10Favourites
M
Mallets
Though the museum had closed, the jumbo xylophones on its front lawn beckoned still. Of us four, she was the most learned in music, so she took the lead, weaving effortlessly between melody and harmony as she pounded life into those bars. This morning, her heart stopped marking time, making our four-four march a three-four waltz far too soon. It's strange to think that night was only weeks ago, but even through the rush of tears, I can still hear her very quintessence in our motley song, note by clanging note.
9Comments
11Favourites
See all

Spotlight

Best Of

FavouritesSee all
D
Dove Grey
Dove grey clouds shift and tumble, playing shadow puppets with crepuscular rays shining on church bells in the quiet countryside. Thunderheads gather in the distance as loamy earth prepares to catch sweet rain. Ozone permeates the air, metallic petrichor sharp enough to fell trees shivering in anticipation, waiting for the clouds to fall.
4Comments
11Favourites
t
trill
if the caged bird sings to release its restless soul to the soaring freedom of the wandering winds would it hold its tongue and close its throat were it to know its spirit would be plucked from the air by an ear hungry for harmony swiftly captured and held dear and deep within a heart yearning for solace where it would be locked up in a chest treasured as a precious rarity forever or would it still sing
18Comments
29Favourites
S
Silver Lining Symphony
Remember how summer sings quietly in your ears; when your stray heart stutters hold it and wait, for your cold hands are meant to hide the fire within. Listen, every symphony, every beautiful thing is made of pauses and broken pieces; diamonds do not reflect the light until they are cut. Remember how the sun filters through cracked clouds after a storm; when the rain gently kisses your palms, forgive the scars for what has been. Listen and always remember, far beyond this pain there are luminous adventures, thriving, in the wake of your resilience.
38Comments
36Favourites
F
Flower Girl
I could be picking petals off flowers: “He loves me, he loves me, he loves me…” It’s not even a question anymore, not even a wish, and the petals fall like pebbles, facts that land with solidity sound. “He loves me.” The thought, the sound, bounces off my lips and prisms hope into my heart, and forget-me-nots bloom where the daydreams land. “He loves me.” I have taken root in the heart of another, and he has taken root in mine, and we are bound by the unseen Force that led us to each other. “He loves me.” These petals are not lifeless; they do not fall and die. They trail behind
13Comments
18Favourites
t
truly
all my luck seemed lost replaced with hopelessness "open your hand," he urged bare, save for my wedding band he smiled, "for better, for worse"
23Comments
18Favourites
D
Driftwood Dreams
Hope, burning, blew like driftwood across white beaches as sunrise breached the distant horizon line. Life driftwood on white beaches, sand sullied calm dreams. The distant horizon line, turbulent, wailed a mourning. Sand sullied calm dreams like a burden we couldn't shake. Turbulent, wailing a mourning, we loosed wishes to the sea. Like a burden we couldn't shake, sunrise breached as we loosed wishes to the sea: hope burning blue.
7Comments
20Favourites
T
The Traveler
She blew in on the last day of summer, arriving just as the wind began, clutching an artist’s portfolio and a hatbox. There was wonder and wisdom in her bright blue eyes, softened by time and crow’s-feet, and a perfect maple leaf the color of flame was caught in her unruly red hair… her perfume hinted of woodsmoke and oak tannins and the spice of faraway, foreign ports. I helped her carry her hatbox from the train station, and when she smiled at me, I knew everything was about to change. We shared a cab to the little seaside town where we were both staying, there on the cusp of the world; it had long been one of my favorite
63Comments
105Favourites
W
When you feel you have lost everything
there are still books you haven’t read and clothes you’ve never worn hanging lonely in your closet. When you feel you have lost everything, there are flowers sleeping under the frost. When you feel you have lost everything, there is a place around the corner you’ve never seen from the other side of the door and a stranger waiting to welcome you in. When you feel you have lost everything, there is a corner of your house filled with dust. When you feel you have lost everything, there are stamps you haven’t used and windows that have never seen pure sunlight. When you feel you have lost everything, there are pennies wast
17Comments
47Favourites
W
Wings of Hope
intuition bird, sing bright the dawn as blooming secrets fall soft on mosaic stones; our gentle vines creep wild as wind, a wandering metamorphosis: winter caterpillar, spring cocoon, summer wings twinged and falling into flowers before reinventing destiny harmony garden, keep parched and persevering; this world will stop one day to water the seeds with why, and was, and maybe someday could be-- for now, nature watches quiet as sun-dust butterflies collect drifting souls like wishing stars
38Comments
98Favourites
R
Rediscovery
It's not that I am expanding the realm your fingers can tread, retraining my skin as it were to respond favorably to your touch; it's that I am rediscovering you. I am remembering just the way my nerves calm when you roughen my skin with your sanded fingers. I am stuttering my pulse quiet when your breath hitches mine, and I am curling doubt and regret from my heels to your careful palms. You cradle my chest to yours, the peace caresses the pain, and somehow we step from today to tomorrow.
16Comments
12Favourites
Artist // Professional // Literature
  • Aug 25
  • United States
  • Deviant for 10 years
  • She / Her
My Bio

Custom

Comments1K

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Sign In
LadyLincolnHobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday Delice by KmyGraphic
Have a beautiful and blessed day, darling girl.  Sending love Pixel Heart: Red by apparate
hopeburnsblueProfessional Writer
Thank you, sweet friend! :iconheartblueplz:
LadyLincolnHobbyist Writer
You're welcome, darling! :hug:
UltimateOutlawHobbyist Writer
Thank you for the watch 💞
UltimateOutlawHobbyist Writer
Thanks for the favorite 😍
PennedinWhiteHobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch, dear. :heart:
hopeburnsblueProfessional Writer
Of course! I thought I had before so had to fix that! Hope you're doing well.