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Deviant for 14 Years
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Swift as stolen melody, we dance on the edge of sound.
It is in the darkness of falling leaves that we cling for clarity,
and stumble in calculation to some sinking resolve.
Watch the stars burn themselves clean.
Had we ever brought this careless side of self to light,
we could have painted a softer shade of morning
Just smile.
We remember nothing.
Stand still;
listen to the promises of faded photographs,
of moving timepieces.
We're living twilight through the meaning of goodbye.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 1 1
Rugged Violet by recklesslyforgotten Rugged Violet :iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
The borders of my mind echo
with the soft hum of comforting sound;
in this place, this moment,
I've sewn the pace for me and you.
Unchartered and unexpected,
I find my heart - myself - stolen
by sharing syllables in open conversation,
and ending days with the whispered words
that shatter the miles that part us.
This is our time.
Tomorrows and the days that pass
are ever intertwined in thoughts of you;
this is my constant, my cure,
and the sole bearing of eternity
beyond the skyline.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
And here we are again,
the candle still smoldering on the table
next to the book that sits idle, unused –
the spine crinkled by nothing but a shelf’s stiff form.
The paintings hang in their canvases,
blurred still by the plastic that drapes over the
nail-ridden frames, and
dulled only by the sun’s searing gaze as it
reflects light onto the popcorn strewn about floor.
Voices shout obscenities from a television that blares,
while a radio sits on but muted against the wall.
And here we sit, mindlessly laughing at the
green-light colours that flash across the screen,
as shades of black and white
annihilate the background.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
Incessant Breaking
Faces blink numbers as
moments strewn across a wall,
where the eyes shift, turn, and
try to ignore the rising dawn.
Blink, beep, butcher the peace of
soft pillows and warm sheets
beneath the darkened lampshades
and prying blinds.
Bitter-winged morning,
catch and embrace the pouncing time,
where paper and punch-ins and
the newest implication of a lie
sets to unfold.
In persistent change, the clock waits,
a static cause for early-morning
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
To The Fiend
Heartbeat quickens.
This is a casual mold, where we lose sense of
the time and the grasp of stressing lines –
we take a breath.
First sip:
the day is melting.
In this warm embrace, we shake the
twinge of guilt creeping up for taking
but a moment to ourselves.
Now sound takes precedence,
blending shadows with voices as we
drift from our self-secluded screen
and find the lost word
on a sacrificed shred of paper.
The day finally slows,
and we’re brought to the place of
cloudy clarity,
where we’ve found concept in
a steaming cup.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
Ignore the timestamps and the
bodies that shift throughout the room,
as we clasp hands and eyes in an effort
to keep from falling.
Rustling fabric escorts the musical undertones
as a hundred other pairings struggle
to keep the beat.
But there’s no music;
the sound of pounding hearts and
creeping clocks begin to chime at
passing moments,
and we vaguely become aware of
the breaching faces strewn about the floor.
This is our refuge,
and in our binding eyes,
we find the time.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
Chasing Notions
Play the innocent.
Look for the hero in the boy who taught you
that life isn’t about love, only falling.
Chase the moment where you looked into
the eyes of a stranger and found
a heart worth saving. Then run.
Lose your grasp on stable in the
dance of hasty conversation,
then look to shaken bodies and short-lived nights
for some half-witted escape against the bedpost.
Fumble for time.
Know that tomorrow won’t ask for reasons as you
shrink beneath the covers of your own
four-posted bed,
where the only sign of breaking is
a tear-stained pillow.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
The Art of Waking
As sleep etches its sought embrace
around your shoulders,
the calm leaks into every pore as a
chemical dance between mind and desire.
But it doesn’t last.
Its comfort surrounds you, buries you,
and brings you to the haven of
silent clocks and silky sheets,
then you find yourself in the twisted state between
the waking and the dream.
And as you surface to this
conscious place of misunderstanding,
all you find are the questions
about the chase, and the capture,
and what stole you from your sleep.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 1 0
Grievances Against Walls
Punctuate the air with another witty comment
to hide the biding fear that lies below.
This is your mark,
your ploy to prove that words and the
constant struggle with misdemeanour
cannot faze you.
Resolve yourself to ideas of your own misfortune,
and remain blind to the fact that
you bring it on yourself
as you string along a harem of excuses
that exist only as the fashion of your pride.
Pretend you have your reasons
in your effort to ignore the outstretched arms of
consideration and well-intentioned dispute,
while bearing the weight of adamancy
on your shirt.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 1 0
Waking Early
The soft embrace of caffeine no longer soothes this;
we've lost the sense of reason we once felt we used to know.
Hidden deep inside this pit of carelessness
we've buried quick glances, quiet meanings and usefulness -
things that, when carried close, kept us bound to this place.
We've stolen sounds from the music that moved us
and wept into the night for the times
when night blended with painted skylines,
whispered morning and finality of day.
Careful now, harsh lights caress the shaken blankets.
Lack of sleep now dances through our minds;
our hearts sweep silence aside.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 0
They trace this blindness mindfully,
aware of the intricate lies they weave into
their sweat-stained masks.
The chains they bear weigh heavily on their
like-minded motives,
while their birthright cages stand strong as sandy shorelines,
serving as the moral indignation towards what they believe
they ought to feel.
In this, they've created for themselves a sense of comfort,
finding safety in the lie of religious salvation as they
trip over the harsh words and silent protest
towards who they have become.
And here they find relief,
relief in knowing that life's easier with
averted eyes and a head held high
and a knowledge of nothing at all.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 2 5
Chill October
And as the waning sky paints itself in gold,
October will dip its head beneath the surface
and fade away.
We will lose track of time.
The pastels that kiss the trembling waters will remind us
of the flowers that dance with the romance of spring,
and we will forget that the dead of the winter
awaits us tomorrow.
There will be no still-frames,
though we will desperately try to fashion ourselves the memories
that carry through the seasons and the fissures of ticking clocks.
We will carve our pictures into chalky asphalt
and pray that the awakening morning doesn't wash away our dreams.
And as we watch the dying skyline, we will hold hands,
ignoring the pace of heavy breathing
and waiting for the night to fall.
The air will whisper dread for the coming day,
but we will remain seated,
catching brief glimpses of the drowning orange
as it is buried behind closed eyes.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 0 3
A Home in Paris
He sat at the bar, waiting as the bartender poured him another glass of whiskey and fixating himself – once again – on the fact that his life went to shit the very second he met her. Without looking up, he reached for the glass and slid the warm resolve down his throat before it even made a sound against the chestnut counter. It appeared almost olive in the obscuring smoke that clouded the already dim cellar where he sat. Damp and joyless, the décor of the place was far from welcoming, but those who frequented its doorways were looking for anything but. They'd look for a drink, some drowning embrace…always something to bury themselves in, but never to aid in the escape. And they never spoke. They were friends only in nods and grunts as they chased the many demons from their minds.
He never actually liked the place, never found any real sense of self along the filth-ridden walls that he stared at each night. The bartender wasn't friendly; he wouldn't listen to the patrons gripe about th
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 3 5
It's the awkward dance
of flashing eyes and flashing lights
where we don't nod, we know.
Only the part in moving bodies leads us.
It is where we will meet in calculated steps –
ignoring the tempo of some half-witted love song
and opting for the hasty manner of frantic breath.
Perhaps intoxication plays the part.
But more likely, it is simply the fool –
drunk on desolation and fear,
cautious of open eyes, closed lips,
and backs turned throughout the night.
And so we' dance, tangle, entwine ourselves
in ideas of tomorrow, tonight.
We'll pretend the sound is in sync with
the pounding of hearts,
and we'll try to forget to remember
that this is all we'll ever have.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 2 0
Sea and Sky
Take a breath.
Ignore the caustic dance of
dying clocks and frantic winds
as they tremble through your spine.
This is what it is.
stopped suddenly, alarmingly,
as with the ever-dreaded crossroads between
what we see and what we want and
where it all brings us to our
cerulean sea of promise.
This is the end.
gaining slowly, softly,
without declaring its superficial presence
before forcing you underwater and
into the charcoal pit of choked air.
Take a breath;
this is what it is.
:iconrecklesslyforgotten:recklesslyforgotten 1 0


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United States
Current Residence: Altamonte Springs, FL
Favourite genre of music: Alternative, usually.
Operating System: Windows 7.
  • Listening to: "Clumsy Card House" - Blue October
  • Reading: "Definitely Dead" - Charlaine Harris
  • Drinking: Caffeinated water
I'm going to be living in the USA before the end of 2009... Wow.

It's funny how things happen so fast. For the past eight months, I've been living on eggshells it seems, as my entire life was hanging on a date I didn't know/have at the time. Didn't know when to give notice to my employer. Didn't know when to book all my fancy (and highly unnecessary) medical exams. Didn't know when to book visits across the border, or when I'd be finally packing and moving along.

After one phone call, there are now countless markings on my calendar, and my life is finally headed towards a goal I know, can see, can prepare for.

It's incredible.
And it's coming so soon. Oi.


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craaftycroft Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2010
i am in need of assistance
Ballistics343 Featured By Owner May 25, 2008
artyarta Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2008
Thank you soo much for the :+fav:!!! :hug:

Grijander Featured By Owner Dec 7, 2007
I like your photo of "Arctic Skies"
insaneone Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2007
Hello there my fellow deviant and how is your weekend? :)
LauraMossop Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2007
Thanks for the watch! Hope your well, take care !! :Heart:
drsmith Featured By Owner Dec 4, 2006
Sorry for the late reply, thanks for the fav on
sleepy kitten :bow:
Piro-kun Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2006
:glomp: Been a little while no?
870 Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2006
thank you very much for the fav!!
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