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Promoted Deviations

Literature

Not Sacrifice, Fulfillment

To My Daughters, One Day When You Read This I want you both to understand something clearly, without confusion, without the weight that so many children grow up carrying: I never sacrificed for you. That’s not how I see it. That’s not what this has been. One day, you may look back at the life I lived and say things like, “Dad gave up a lot for us.” But I need you to know now, while this moment still lives fresh in my heart—I didn’t give anything up. I chose it. And I would choose it again. Because helping you find your passions… was never a burden. It was joy. It was purpose. It was the clearest, most sacred use of the love I carry for you. There’s no pair of shoes, no car, no trip or luxury or shiny thing in this world that could bring me the kind of joy I feel when I see your eyes light up doing something you love. Whether it’s cheerleading or gymnastics or whatever new dream enters your heart next year or ten years from now—supporting that isn’t sacrifice. It’s

Literature

The Lights Along the Tunnel (Poem)

The Lights Along the Tunnel By J.C. Solis There is a boy that’s alone in this world In a dark place where his life has unfurled An abyss of nothing, no chance of sight A place so sullen, devoid of all light There is a boy who cries into the dark A boy who carries on life grown so stark A light bulb above him, tears are now shed Surrounded by dark, of living and dead The light bulb now flickers, he must move on To find a new light before grace is now gone Along the tunnel, a new light still glows Along this tunnel, the darkness still grows The light bulb is snuffed, his cries now get worse The life of the child now becomes a curse The path is ahead, to the next light he goes Yet how to get there, nobody does know The dark ravine, he must cross through life’s pain A feeling, through turmoil, that never wains The life in the dark that tries to snuff hope The life that all humans must come to cope The Life he must live, it hurts and is coarse Yet he must move on, as

Literature

Finding the New Green

Damp earth opens to the light today, Dark and heavy with the scent of old frost. I walk the fence in the early mist, Finding the new green in the dirt. Mossy velvet grips the north side of the oak, A low, green rug for the beetles to climb. Mint-light cuts through the new leaves, Staining the rough bark with a quiet strength. Sharp spears of grass break the asphalt, Drinking the cold rain from a Tuesday sky. Silver ribbons tie the garden to the clouds, Holding the wild world in a tight, wet knot. Nothing is missing; the land is whole. A restless green climbs the stems, And the slow work of the light has just begun. © 2026 QuillandInkWhispers, All Rights Reserved

Suggested Deviants

MikkiMarie

Literature

And That's Wrong.

You're fat. Or maybe you're Anorexic... I don't know. But you're not perfect. And that's wrong.You're ugly. Or maybe you're Fake... But you're not perfect. And that's wrong.You're quiet. Or maybe you're Obnoxious... But you're not perfect. And that's wrong.You're you. Or maybe you're like everybody else? Well. You're not perfect. And that's wrong.

Literature

Depression...

No, depression is not just getting sad. It's a constant sadness that melts into your bones, An indescribably heavy weight upon your shoulders, Never mind your heart and soul. It's believing so many lies (maybe because you've learned to accept them) And no longer appreciating your self-worth. Wishing you no longer existed, wishing yourself gone. Depression holds you back from your dreams And pulls you into a nightmare. It takes full control of your existence. It makes you never want to get out of bed, And when you finally do, You just want to get back in it. But you know the hardest part? Ignorant people. Just. Like. You.

Literature

Think of This..

You want to end it? Think of this. You write your suicide note... And you set it on the table. You take your razor, your silver, two inch razor. And you start to slide it across your wrist. You barely feel a thing. After all, the pain of life is more than the pain of the blade. And you take that belt you never wore, the one that was too tight, the one you starved yourself to fit into. And you wrap it once, twice around your neck... and you pull it tight. Barely breathing, you put the ends of the belt on something to hold you up. Something to strangle you. Something to kill you.And you die.And that's the end, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.Your...

UntamedUnwanted

Literature

Obsession

It takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters . I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right. Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours . That is how long its been since the doctor...

Literature

Lonely Girl

I painted. You said I'm wasteful. I sang. You said I couldn't hold a tune. I wrote. You said I made no sense. I danced. You said I had two left feet. I cried. You told me I was ugly. I will be amazing one day. Just to make all of you wonder why you didn't get to know me better.

Literature

I'm Not the Marrying Kind

I'm not the marrying kind.  I have stones in my hair instead of flowers, And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.  I'm not the marrying kind.  My words aren't pretty or wise, And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.  I'm not the marrying kind.  I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder, And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.  I'm not the marrying kind.  Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior, And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.  I'm not the marrying kind.  I do not stay silent in arguments,  And I like to lie compulsively, just to see your fa...

munches2008

Literature

Don't Ignore Me

Don't Ignore MeI'm screaming your name in vain. I'm losing my mind to our friendship. I'm bleeding, like you had cut my heart out. I'm running out of time.Please give me your hand. I'm sinking far below. I can no longer stand. Please don't let me go.Talk to me again, please? Please call my name once more. I don't have a disease. Comfort me like once before.Look at me! Don't go further away. Force me from becoming astray. Please come back to me. You're now affray.Please don't leave me. Please don't ignore me...

Literature

Lonely Soul

Lonely SoulYou have never seen the sun. Just the reflection of its beauty. Just a wink of an eye. Never the love you are needing so hard. The pain. The anger. They all fill places in your mind. Empty the heart. Bit, by bit. Every day you hope and pray. Every day the gaps get bigger. Every day more lonely. Every day more hidden. Ever day a piece of you die. Until you have nothing left. Your heart completely empty. You head is fully loaded. That was the day you couldn't die anymore. Yet...you keep on living.

Literature

Care, I do

Care, I do You feel as if no one cares about you. "Life sucks, I give up..." Yeah, you said that. You'll find someone soon. If no one cares. That makes me no one. Every time you say that, My soul tares apart. You look right past it. You don't even notice. I told you before. But, I'm guessing you never listened. I'll tell you again. Care, I do. Care so, so much. You'll always be in my heart. In that special place that's all for you.

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Literature

Depression is an Option

Depression is a choice, my dear, And happiness the same You choose this illness, don’t you? What a tragic little game.Depression is an option, love Just get up out of bed Take your tears and worries And just smile now instead.Depression is a choice, you see, And so is suicide. Just sit back, kick your feet up, dear Enjoy this perfect ride.Get over your own standards Of what everyone should be. Just smile for once, and maybe You’ll be living perfectly....But...Depression is an illness That we feel so deep within. Why would anybody choose To write poetry on their skin?Unless there lies a reason, dear, I would not choose to die.If depression ...

Poetry and Writing

Literature

what does it feel like to be sober at a party?

sometimes you want to spit out your teeth because you’ve been grinding them so hard under a diaphanous coating of crimson lipstick; but you know the floors already freckled with confetti- aluminum and glass and paper- and the eburnean pearls tucked away in your mouth are not able to be recycledand sometimes it’s rivulets on the back of your neck, droplets dripping like honey, because the rooms heating up from people swarming like bees; as your cheeks burgeon like crimson roses your oversized sweater becomes your only source of safety- maybe from the constant touch of others, as they bump around like lost passengers at a train station, or...

Literature

you're never hopeless

you tell me you feel hopeless as you talk with tired eyes- the sky drips with black pen ink poured on crystal cosmic lightsyour eyes become black vacuums- your words turn to somber sighs, and I ask you: on the darkest of nights, have you ever seen a starless sky?

Literature

Darling, Don't You Dare

To the girl who skips dinner, Because her reflection hurts more than Starving.To the boy who wears sweatshirts On hot summer days, Because he doesn’t want his mother to cry over his Scars.To the boy who weeps uncontrollably Until he falls asleep, Because it’s the only way to escape into his Dreams.To the girl who spends her days in her bedroom, Because the dark is more peaceful than her Mind.To the child who gets angry, Because no one understands.To the teens who self-harm, To the ones in recovery, To the ones that just can’t do it anymore…Stay Strong.For the girl who skips meals And the boy who wears sweatshirts, For the boy who cries, Th...

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More by Red--Roses

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Promoted Deviations

Literature

Not Sacrifice, Fulfillment

To My Daughters, One Day When You Read This I want you both to understand something clearly, without confusion, without the weight that so many children grow up carrying: I never sacrificed for you. That’s not how I see it. That’s not what this has been. One day, you may look back at the life I lived and say things like, “Dad gave up a lot for us.” But I need you to know now, while this moment still lives fresh in my heart—I didn’t give anything up. I chose it. And I would choose it again. Because helping you find your passions… was never a burden. It was joy. It was purpose. It was the clearest, most sacred use of the love I carry for you. There’s no pair of shoes, no car, no trip or luxury or shiny thing in this world that could bring me the kind of joy I feel when I see your eyes light up doing something you love. Whether it’s cheerleading or gymnastics or whatever new dream enters your heart next year or ten years from now—supporting that isn’t sacrifice. It’s

Literature

The Lights Along the Tunnel (Poem)

The Lights Along the Tunnel By J.C. Solis There is a boy that’s alone in this world In a dark place where his life has unfurled An abyss of nothing, no chance of sight A place so sullen, devoid of all light There is a boy who cries into the dark A boy who carries on life grown so stark A light bulb above him, tears are now shed Surrounded by dark, of living and dead The light bulb now flickers, he must move on To find a new light before grace is now gone Along the tunnel, a new light still glows Along this tunnel, the darkness still grows The light bulb is snuffed, his cries now get worse The life of the child now becomes a curse The path is ahead, to the next light he goes Yet how to get there, nobody does know The dark ravine, he must cross through life’s pain A feeling, through turmoil, that never wains The life in the dark that tries to snuff hope The life that all humans must come to cope The Life he must live, it hurts and is coarse Yet he must move on, as

Literature

Finding the New Green

Damp earth opens to the light today, Dark and heavy with the scent of old frost. I walk the fence in the early mist, Finding the new green in the dirt. Mossy velvet grips the north side of the oak, A low, green rug for the beetles to climb. Mint-light cuts through the new leaves, Staining the rough bark with a quiet strength. Sharp spears of grass break the asphalt, Drinking the cold rain from a Tuesday sky. Silver ribbons tie the garden to the clouds, Holding the wild world in a tight, wet knot. Nothing is missing; the land is whole. A restless green climbs the stems, And the slow work of the light has just begun. © 2026 QuillandInkWhispers, All Rights Reserved

Suggested Deviants

MikkiMarie

Literature

And That's Wrong.

You're fat. Or maybe you're Anorexic... I don't know. But you're not perfect. And that's wrong.You're ugly. Or maybe you're Fake... But you're not perfect. And that's wrong.You're quiet. Or maybe you're Obnoxious... But you're not perfect. And that's wrong.You're you. Or maybe you're like everybody else? Well. You're not perfect. And that's wrong.

Literature

Depression...

No, depression is not just getting sad. It's a constant sadness that melts into your bones, An indescribably heavy weight upon your shoulders, Never mind your heart and soul. It's believing so many lies (maybe because you've learned to accept them) And no longer appreciating your self-worth. Wishing you no longer existed, wishing yourself gone. Depression holds you back from your dreams And pulls you into a nightmare. It takes full control of your existence. It makes you never want to get out of bed, And when you finally do, You just want to get back in it. But you know the hardest part? Ignorant people. Just. Like. You.

Literature

Think of This..

You want to end it? Think of this. You write your suicide note... And you set it on the table. You take your razor, your silver, two inch razor. And you start to slide it across your wrist. You barely feel a thing. After all, the pain of life is more than the pain of the blade. And you take that belt you never wore, the one that was too tight, the one you starved yourself to fit into. And you wrap it once, twice around your neck... and you pull it tight. Barely breathing, you put the ends of the belt on something to hold you up. Something to strangle you. Something to kill you.And you die.And that's the end, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.Your...

UntamedUnwanted

Literature

Obsession

It takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters . I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right. Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours . That is how long its been since the doctor...

Literature

Lonely Girl

I painted. You said I'm wasteful. I sang. You said I couldn't hold a tune. I wrote. You said I made no sense. I danced. You said I had two left feet. I cried. You told me I was ugly. I will be amazing one day. Just to make all of you wonder why you didn't get to know me better.

Literature

I'm Not the Marrying Kind

I'm not the marrying kind.  I have stones in my hair instead of flowers, And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.  I'm not the marrying kind.  My words aren't pretty or wise, And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.  I'm not the marrying kind.  I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder, And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.  I'm not the marrying kind.  Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior, And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.  I'm not the marrying kind.  I do not stay silent in arguments,  And I like to lie compulsively, just to see your fa...

munches2008

Literature

Don't Ignore Me

Don't Ignore MeI'm screaming your name in vain. I'm losing my mind to our friendship. I'm bleeding, like you had cut my heart out. I'm running out of time.Please give me your hand. I'm sinking far below. I can no longer stand. Please don't let me go.Talk to me again, please? Please call my name once more. I don't have a disease. Comfort me like once before.Look at me! Don't go further away. Force me from becoming astray. Please come back to me. You're now affray.Please don't leave me. Please don't ignore me...

Literature

Lonely Soul

Lonely SoulYou have never seen the sun. Just the reflection of its beauty. Just a wink of an eye. Never the love you are needing so hard. The pain. The anger. They all fill places in your mind. Empty the heart. Bit, by bit. Every day you hope and pray. Every day the gaps get bigger. Every day more lonely. Every day more hidden. Ever day a piece of you die. Until you have nothing left. Your heart completely empty. You head is fully loaded. That was the day you couldn't die anymore. Yet...you keep on living.

Literature

Care, I do

Care, I do You feel as if no one cares about you. "Life sucks, I give up..." Yeah, you said that. You'll find someone soon. If no one cares. That makes me no one. Every time you say that, My soul tares apart. You look right past it. You don't even notice. I told you before. But, I'm guessing you never listened. I'll tell you again. Care, I do. Care so, so much. You'll always be in my heart. In that special place that's all for you.

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Literature

Depression is an Option

Depression is a choice, my dear, And happiness the same You choose this illness, don’t you? What a tragic little game.Depression is an option, love Just get up out of bed Take your tears and worries And just smile now instead.Depression is a choice, you see, And so is suicide. Just sit back, kick your feet up, dear Enjoy this perfect ride.Get over your own standards Of what everyone should be. Just smile for once, and maybe You’ll be living perfectly....But...Depression is an illness That we feel so deep within. Why would anybody choose To write poetry on their skin?Unless there lies a reason, dear, I would not choose to die.If depression ...

Poetry and Writing

Literature

what does it feel like to be sober at a party?

sometimes you want to spit out your teeth because you’ve been grinding them so hard under a diaphanous coating of crimson lipstick; but you know the floors already freckled with confetti- aluminum and glass and paper- and the eburnean pearls tucked away in your mouth are not able to be recycledand sometimes it’s rivulets on the back of your neck, droplets dripping like honey, because the rooms heating up from people swarming like bees; as your cheeks burgeon like crimson roses your oversized sweater becomes your only source of safety- maybe from the constant touch of others, as they bump around like lost passengers at a train station, or...

Literature

you're never hopeless

you tell me you feel hopeless as you talk with tired eyes- the sky drips with black pen ink poured on crystal cosmic lightsyour eyes become black vacuums- your words turn to somber sighs, and I ask you: on the darkest of nights, have you ever seen a starless sky?

Literature

Darling, Don't You Dare

To the girl who skips dinner, Because her reflection hurts more than Starving.To the boy who wears sweatshirts On hot summer days, Because he doesn’t want his mother to cry over his Scars.To the boy who weeps uncontrollably Until he falls asleep, Because it’s the only way to escape into his Dreams.To the girl who spends her days in her bedroom, Because the dark is more peaceful than her Mind.To the child who gets angry, Because no one understands.To the teens who self-harm, To the ones in recovery, To the ones that just can’t do it anymore…Stay Strong.For the girl who skips meals And the boy who wears sweatshirts, For the boy who cries, Th...

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Deviation Actions

Not Sacrifice, Fulfillment

The Lights Along the Tunnel (Poem)

Finding the New Green

And That's Wrong.

Depression...

Think of This..

Obsession

Lonely Girl

I'm Not the Marrying Kind

Don't Ignore Me

Lonely Soul

Care, I do

Depression is an Option

what does it feel like to be sober at a party?

you're never hopeless

Darling, Don't You Dare

Not Sacrifice, Fulfillment

The Lights Along the Tunnel (Poem)

Finding the New Green

And That's Wrong.

Depression...

Think of This..

Obsession

Lonely Girl

I'm Not the Marrying Kind

Don't Ignore Me

Lonely Soul

Care, I do

Depression is an Option

what does it feel like to be sober at a party?

you're never hopeless

Darling, Don't You Dare

Lol Cupcakes

Description

Not Sacrifice, Fulfillment

The Lights Along the Tunnel (Poem)

Finding the New Green

And That's Wrong.

Depression...

Think of This..

Obsession

Lonely Girl

I'm Not the Marrying Kind

Don't Ignore Me

Lonely Soul

Care, I do

Depression is an Option

what does it feel like to be sober at a party?

you're never hopeless

Darling, Don't You Dare