peacefrogo0o0o's avatar
joann
11 Watchers8K Page Views241 Deviations
M
Maybe if you were here
I had a miserable time.  Beneath my brain's foamy beer-stained chaos, I managed to tell myself over and over again, "this may suck, but at least you look damn good." (I'd broken out the little black cocktail dress.) A man with a goofy smile and glassy eyes wrapped an arm around me, rooting me to the place I stood.  He asked me how I was doing--if I was enjoying myself--and I managed a fuzzy, "yeah this is ok I guess i'm not sure if i'll stay for much longer though it's getting kind of crowded and all i really want to do is dance and the music kinda sucks..." "OHMYGOD I LOVE THAT BAND TOO" he yelled into my ear as he spil
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nail polish
my teeth have bitten nails; i've painted some deep red-- others i've left naked. i'll peel off my paint for you-- a naked girl left on your bed. but only if you promise to paint me back red.
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cornered
oh god you're a fucking joke just shut up and let me tug on your hair big boy she says when she's lonely and he tries to find something more in her eyes than the color brown. she's messy and she likes it-- feeling disheveled and unleveled and off kilter trying to hold on to flat walls walking through grungy rooms searching for the toilet. the music is oppressive and stretches, warping through closed doors while she finds fleeting peace in sitting on cold dirty porcelain then falling on the floor. what the hell am i doing here what the hell am i doing here she chants wanting to get out of her own stupid head because alcohol has tra
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let down.
i am not impressed. you're life has become hectic drunk unkempt your hair is a mess. stop pretending that everything is ok. i can hear fools swarm outside your door at night and there alone on your bed i lay. what has happened to your face? that smile you used to give to me so freely has been sourly replaced. i do not understand. take some responsibility grow up god dammit be a fucking man. my hands can't hold yours anymore. don't come around here tomorrow or the day after or the day after i'll just show you the door. i cannot believe you. everything all the words you spoke to me all the kisses you promised me were un
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hanging around
My skin glistened in the sun and I felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of my face.  I twisted my body to comfortably lie in the hammock, its gracefully swung arms contouring perfectly to the notches of my spine.  Beneath my shades I read Nabokov’s “Lolita,” but my eyes were strained and my head woozy from the brightness of the sun, so I set his book down on the grass and watched little gnats drift through the summer day surrounding me. I shifted my shoulders over one side of the hammock, swung my legs over the other and saw the world upside down.  The trees’ green leaves above were still
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Dylan's 'Moonshiner'
          “I’ve been a moonshiner for seventeen long years… I spent all my money on whiskey and beer…” he sang.  I watched him in the dim light of his dorm room.  Books were strewn across the floor beside dried brown leaves that had found their ways in, each carefully hitching rides on his brown leather shoes.             “God bless them pretty women, I wish they was mine…” he sang, and all I could think about was how sad I felt.  A few months ago he'd explained to
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yes
yes yes yes yes yes undress i'm a mess yes yes i like that if you stop i'll be devastated tonight your eyes promised me something sweet yes yes yes a treat the way our fingertips meet like the tips of our tongues yes that's what i like forgive me while i close my eyes forgive me for my naked thighs forgive me for my airy sighs yes i'm asking for you tonight yes yes i need to touch that cheek feel your hands run down my arms yes yes yes lips to skin yes yes yes it's ok to look at me if you smile i'll smile too i cannot help but smile at you opps i made that wet but wait i'm not done yet yes yes i can feel you
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beats
it's the music grabbing your heels and pulling-- making you slip around, dance-crazy-dance the beat is no longer on the outside but exists within you under your hunched shoulders and dizzy fingertips slithering circles round your calves and thighs jumping between your excited legs it swings your hair while your hips twirl unable to let go of the floating feeling you're high up there can hear the faint muffled voice of a bluesy friend tricking you into dancing more keep moving because if you don't you'll never move again keep drumming keep that neck flexible keep your arms up slippery and agile you shift side to side and wat
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tick
i grabbed on to him wholeheartedly, digging my fingernails into his fleash like a tick; i need his blood.   won't let go til i'm full and fat, not til the little hairs on my body stand on end and i inflate, completely round, not til i can take everything i can from him. i blend in with his dark course hair, black growing out of his skin, the skin i'm now in; he cannot find me. bury my face into his neck, be the vampire i know i can be, sucking streams of support, stealing parts of his life before he even realizes he's not whole anymore. he'll start to scratch at where i am but i'll be hidden, tunneled just f
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problems
his anemic arms smooth bare no hair they reach across the table slap slap slap what an ignorant prick because of his dick no one to stick with his angry selfish eyes with his bony shoulders and itchy feet a starving dog beneath the lonely moon tonight he's given up the fight besides he has no right to yell or raise his voice at the balding trees or me wind blowing his body back and forth he barely has anymore curls to use against the cold shouldn't have gone against what he was told broken by the tiny storms of leaves flying by staring up at the clouds in the sky and watching me walk by we didn't eve
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See all
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insane again
i think it's funny how i wake and my eyes are already soaked i can't escape this hurt i feel though it's been months without a single word passing from our lips. busy, he said.   busy was a burden much too heavy to carry with me weighing you down. well i'm busy too... busy crying over you.
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please
i timed it perfectly. -so when we spoke on the phone you'd hear our favorite song in the background and i'd pretend it was just a coincidence. i know you felt something too; there's no way it was only me. don't tell me you didn't feel sparks, feel electric slip through your body. don't tell me that. please come back to me.
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he must not remember
1.  she smiles so much, still laughs just as much as before. new clothes, new hair, new face; she's started over. she must not know my name anymore because when i'm in the crowd i get no "hello" she must be over me, completely unfazed. she looks so happy. 2.  he hasn't changed, still laughs at everyone's jokes, still smiles in his same dreamy way. he still walks by me and i get no "hello" he must not remember. he must not recognize my new clothes, new hair, new face. he's probably moved on; ready for a new life. he looks so happy.
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'guys are very predictable...
...way too many tears have been shed over that boy, and too many sad songs have been played. i see him everywhere i go, i can hear him laughing. everything reminds me of us and what we had, where we went, what we did. there are too many unsettling memories that appear at the most random times; they're so vivid, it's scary. just when i think i'm ok, when i feel a sliver of having moved on, his smile appears in my head and opens up every wound that ever did begin to heal, everything i'd thought i'd forgotten. how am i supposed to deal with that?
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if i was over you
the cold, dark night blends together mostly.   there's that time when you really can't tell fiction from non-fiction, smoking from non-smoking.  when you can't fucking tell when you're dying from when you're living.  well that's how i felt that night; that's what every little emotion in my body screamed out to me when you ripped my heart in two.   i'd tried so hard.  i honestly did, i tried to keep you with me.  and i failed just like every other attemped love i'd ever had.  what remains a mystery is that if you were truley perfect, which i'd believed you were, then you'd still be with me right now.  still be kissing my forehead and whisper
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i always say i'm fine
listen to my eyes and not my lips they only know how to lie now.  trained by you, it seems. and even in those dark, sore nights there's no escape  you haunt my dreams. fragile kisses shatter like glass unable to defend those awful  short-lived lives. remember whispers crumpled there? down by the quiet  river side. bare and naked i stand before you don't tell me that i'm beautiful.  i've felt this touch before. are my features so beautiful now that you can walk past  and ignore? i'm in no condition to shelter your misplaced love that's gone  astray. i'm losing the hope that you'll come back and guide my hands  fa
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oh those trees
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sea breeze
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you'll never.
i will try to look strong; seem rough around the edges. don't criticize my way of recovery, the mascara leaves long black smudges. not enough's been said or done and crying seems my only way. i only hope that you won't forget, like i don't, every day. there's so much quiet when you're not here and i've grown to hate the silence. all i hear is my own heart's beating and it's missing skips from your absence. i expect i will get through this and i'll find a love eventually. but you, ____ ____, will never find someone quite as good as me.
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not quite sure
rejects of the hour sit and stare at the ticking clock that beats in rhythm, in exact time, with their lonely battered hearts.                           escape from doubt and worry as i sit upon my bed watching stars go by, wishing on a hope that's dead.                           instantly the light appears: the idea that it's not my fault at all, but more or less, yours in all it's art.                           glittered eyes and made up whores infront of you to choose, remember me as the girl you loved, and psychologically abused.                           the flowers you'd given me started to wilt and your face didn
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Spotlight

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notes: my first lover
i'd discovered real organic pleasure at a young age, daring to pioneer places beneath my skirt's linen fabric and feeling things i didn't know how to describe. becoming an addict was not hard and i quickly found that i could deliver to myself some of the most overpowering experiences felt by      any woman. my fingers know what i want and my body tells me how to breathe and my hair sprawled across my soft plush pillow sweeps over my bliss and smile, telling me not to stop. skin turns silk and pink, drenched in aches and ecstasy.    there's a power in knowing that i control myself,    knowing that i can make myself writh
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Deviant for 13 years
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Llama: Llamas are awesome! (1)
hello world.
I'm returning.
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tagged by CalmingChaos!
rules. 1. post these rules. 2. each person tagged must post 8 random facts about themselves. 3. tags should write a journal/ blog of these facts. 4. at the end of the post 8 more persons are tagged and named. 5. go to their page and leave a comment telling them they're tagged. so...i haven't been on deviantart very much lately...but i'm gonna post this journal anyway. one.  my father is chinese and my mother is malaysian. two.  i've already planned my children's names: Bailah, Simone, Everette, and Luca. three.  i cannot dive. four.  only a handful of people know my real middle name. five.  i very much like to do shrooms. six.  i
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a fleeting moment.
consciousness: 1. the state of being conscious; awareness of one's own existence, sensations, thoughts, surroundings, etc. meditation: 2. continued or extended thought; reflection; contemplation.
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rengirl's avatar
rengirl|Hobbyist General Artist
I changed accounts! Come follow me!

:iconrengirl:

used to be calmingchaos!
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Aristocrat-knights's avatar
best poetry i have read in a long time!
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peacefrogo0o0o's avatar
hey, thanks!
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CalmingChaos's avatar
Ms. Peace. I tag you. Read my journal.
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CarolLaRoca's avatar
Thanks for the :+fav: on Lovely Girl
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howaboutnot's avatar
So I was reading comments left on my page from a really frickin long time ago...try last may...and you said you wanted to draw me? We should get together and create something artistic when I come home this weekend. K.
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