pisthelimit's avatar
pronounced pi's the limit
24 Watchers9.7K Page Views219 Deviations
m
memoirs
The days are dragging into May and the March Hare is getting restless. I'm getting antsy because I'm waiting for tea time and it isn't coming. White breezes flit through eyelet curtains in the dining room. Breathy voices ask for cola. The kitchen sink has started dripping. I thought that being a teenager would happen when I turned thirteen. When it didn't, I assumed that I had missed a cutoff date and that It would occur on my sixteenth birthday. It has been two weeks and I can assure you that I feel no more different than when I was fifteen and when I was fourteen and when I was thirteen. Time isn't necessarily a strict progression of cause
a
artificial
You'll never call me sugar, But maybe you'll let me be your artificial sweetener. And sweetie, I'm not going to give you my heart, But maybe, if you're lucky, I'll cut out a kidney And sell it on the black market. Don't get your hopes up though. Spoon me into your tea until I am unable to dissolve And incapable of melting into your arms. Drink your Earl Grey, Which must, by now, be the consistency of pudding, And don't worry about talking to me Sweet and Low Because this isn't Splenda It's absolutely splendid.
H
Hansel and Gretel
You wanted to test the sharpness of the knife so you ran your fingers against the blade and it bit you. (I guess you got your answer.) But, because you didn't want to admit your mistake (Were you embarrassed? I never asked.) you left the hardware store, holding your own hand. And you walked away. Down the street. Up the driveway. Through the back door. And then into the kitchen. The bleeding hadn't stopped yet and you ran your fingers under the water to clean your red hands. (I saw the water go pink and became frantic.) You joked about bleeding on the sidewalk all the way back to the house while I searched for bandages.
Watercolor portrait
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Mum's the word
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freckles
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You're Full of Hot Air
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On the Beach
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Sweet Treat
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I
Inspiration for your words
The clam opens its maw, reluctantly, In order to spit out that annoying grain of sand, Which has suddenly become a pearl. You, however, Leave your mouth open, And the only thing that falls from it Is spit and senselessness. And so: I’d like to take a hammer to your face, And forcibly break your jaw. And while you spit out your teeth, one by one, Maybe you’d scream a little bit of wisdom Amidst the profanities. And perhaps, in that moment from which I have saved you from your perpetual ignorance, Enlightened blood will ooze down your throat, To be regurgitated at a later time As poetry.
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m
memoirs
The days are dragging into May and the March Hare is getting restless. I'm getting antsy because I'm waiting for tea time and it isn't coming. White breezes flit through eyelet curtains in the dining room. Breathy voices ask for cola. The kitchen sink has started dripping. I thought that being a teenager would happen when I turned thirteen. When it didn't, I assumed that I had missed a cutoff date and that It would occur on my sixteenth birthday. It has been two weeks and I can assure you that I feel no more different than when I was fifteen and when I was fourteen and when I was thirteen. Time isn't necessarily a strict progression of cause
a
artificial
You'll never call me sugar, But maybe you'll let me be your artificial sweetener. And sweetie, I'm not going to give you my heart, But maybe, if you're lucky, I'll cut out a kidney And sell it on the black market. Don't get your hopes up though. Spoon me into your tea until I am unable to dissolve And incapable of melting into your arms. Drink your Earl Grey, Which must, by now, be the consistency of pudding, And don't worry about talking to me Sweet and Low Because this isn't Splenda It's absolutely splendid.
H
Hansel and Gretel
You wanted to test the sharpness of the knife so you ran your fingers against the blade and it bit you. (I guess you got your answer.) But, because you didn't want to admit your mistake (Were you embarrassed? I never asked.) you left the hardware store, holding your own hand. And you walked away. Down the street. Up the driveway. Through the back door. And then into the kitchen. The bleeding hadn't stopped yet and you ran your fingers under the water to clean your red hands. (I saw the water go pink and became frantic.) You joked about bleeding on the sidewalk all the way back to the house while I searched for bandages.
Watercolor portrait
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2
Mum's the word
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freckles
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2
You're Full of Hot Air
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12
On the Beach
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1
Sweet Treat
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10
D
Dystopia I -- Alliteration
Podium, pedestal, pulpit, and poise— Each will give rise to ineffable noise. The calling, the culling, the cardinal crusade— Selling ourselves to the idols we've made. Sobriety censors the sorrows of some— Delusions of empathy, soon to go numb. Candyland, cannabis, crack cocaine— Anything deeper is dubbed profane. Penniless, partisan, pitiful pulp— Why did we vanquish our notion of hope?
Good Taste
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F
Fresh Mudkip of Hoenn
Now this is the tail, all about how My life got flipped, and I almost drowned And I'd like to take a second, just chill right there I'll tell you how I became the lackey of a trainer named Claire. In the west Hoenn area, hatched and raised In the swamps is where I spent most of my days. Swimming out, chilling, relaxing all cool, And kicking some Lotads outside of the pool. When a couple of Swamperts, who were up in no good, Started making problems in my neighbourhood. I got in one little battle and Mama Marshtomp got scared And said, “We're giving you to a trainer in Hoenn named Claire.” I begged and pleaded with her the
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Harry Potter DH: BFF
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I
I Will Not Write Your Elegy
I will not write your elegy for I refuse to believe you are gone. I will not accept that you do not still breathe in every letter that you wrote me, that your heart does not still beat quick, with mine, as I hold them to my breast and wonder if you'll be home on time, or late. No matter what they say, you are still entwined in my fingers, as we lie on the sofa and watch that terrible movie that you love so much, again, because it reminds me – you need a haircut, and your tie isn't straight, so I adjust it as I bend down to kiss you, and you hate that – but can't do a thing about it with your cold fingers… Cold like a hope
Flower trio
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:: Madonna and Child ::
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Kiss Thyself
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Deviant for 11 years
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Llama: Llamas are awesome! (3)
oh hi.
my sixteenth birthday came and went and now I'm sixteen and have been for the past two weeks. spring break also danced on past me, and I went to Paris and I took pictures and maybe I'll upload some of them here but I don't really know. I guess that's it. I hope everyone is well.
Hello again.
hello. as you may have noticed, I took a nice long break from deviantart. as you may not have noticed, I also took a nice long break from other means of internetty communication. want an explanation? (sometimes I think that I want one too.) I guess I'm gonna give this another try. who knows how this will turn out?
Birthday.
I'm 15. Wow. Fiffteen. Very strange concept.

Comments168

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Kjaj's avatar
:wave: Hello and Welcome to #Feature-Club

Thank you for joining us :hug:!

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We accept 1 deviation a month from members, and only showcase 5 a day. So please be aware your submission may take time before being featured. For the full details of how to submit please read our Submissions Rules</strong>

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krystalvalkyrie's avatar
Thanks, Miss.
I appreciate the fave... particularly more so after reading some of your poems. I suspect that at your age, you are already a better writer than I ever hope to be.

-ksval-
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airisall's avatar
Thanks so much for the favourite!
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MooseOfIrk's avatar
Happy Birthday. ^-^
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Steam-Boat-Wilson's avatar
Stop ignoring me! ;_;
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Steam-Boat-Wilson's avatar
Now I keel yew
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