Just One More Question...
Welcome to a new journal series I am very excited about. I had this idea where I wanted to do a series that showcases the immense diversity of people we have as members here on DeviantArt. And I wanted to try something a little bit different with regards to interviews. Instead of interviewing multiple artists by asking them a series of in depth questions, I decided I would come up with just one question, and ask it to a large number of deviants from different artistic mediums, different backgrounds, different countries, etc. This way, you, the reader, get to discover the insights, opinions and experiences of a huge variety of fellow members all at once. I really hope you guys will enjoy this, please let me know if there are specific questions you'd like me to ask in future issues!
"What is a style or genre of art you always wished you could do, but just never got into, or was never able to learn? And what do you find attractive about t
Empty InsideShe stares out into the world with empty eyes.
The scars on her wrists will never heal, nor will her heart.
Her past haunts her in ways most people don't want to imagine.
The pain lingers still, long after the blade was dropped.
She'll never really recover, never truly find release.
There will always be a piece of her left behind,
A piece of her trapped, strangled by her own thoughts,
Her overwhelming emotions, or does she feel nothing at all?
She doesn't really remember. She feels empty now.
But did she used to? She doesn't think so.
She remembers pain. Suffering. Loneliness yet being smothered all at once.
Tears prick the corners of her eyes and slowly cascade down her cheeks.
She's not sad now, not really, at least she doesn't have a reason to be.
But did she ever really need a reason? With harsh words spoken
Or sometimes, with words being left unsaid,
What hurts more? A beating or a verbal barrage?
You're not good enough.
You'll never be good enough.
The Savage BlueberryFun dream I had... then I just made up some extra stuff cause I could only remember bits and pieces xD
There's prob a crap ton of errors but idc :I I WANTED SUM DAT WRITING PRACTICE.
He was beaten, bruised, run down, tired. The seasoned warlord stumbled over just a bit as he kept walking forward, hands tied together at the wrist with a magic-strengthened rope that lead to a taller male at the lead. Every time the captive warrior tried to stop out of defiance, the brute ahead of him would give a rough tug to keep the other moving. "Apex.. What I tell you about stopping?" the captor scolded.
Apex responded back with a glare, "I don't speak blueberry". It had only been a few hours into their journey, after the larger man had cut down the shorters' crew and took him as a prize. Yet those entire two hours were annoyingly spent listening to Apex spitting out insults at his captor and mocking him for his blue hair by calli
Poison IvyYour words stained my fingertips
ivy ranked up my skin
bleeding into the pale blue
hints of my arms
I wish I could be like you
you never seemed chained
by roots of fear
Ivy leaves tease my neck
I feel them drape
around my shoulder
like a scarf
Poison inch at my neck
before it's too late
I cage my neck
with my timid fingers
rather than their deathly embrace
I shouldn't listen to your words
[Pull apart the poison roots
watching them fall to my feet]
They'd poison my very soul
i'm sorry that this isn't a poem.oh lover, oh lover, oh lover oh
what will you do
when the night is over
how will you fold yourself from
the sweet dough of the night
how will you face yourself
in the morning
walking homemy head is clubbed down
by a soft breeze
it sinks into my spine
the draft, the lizard
whirls up your leg
strutting on the floor of
boundless empty sky,
A Light, Yet Far
A Light, Yet Far
Through dark and dreary roads, I traveled.
Soon all light began to fade, and die.
Losing all hope and will to live,
Traveling through a far and distant land,
My world began to spin.
The kindling flames within were soon to be extinguished;
Then, warm, radiant light touched my face.
With my hope revived from a cold and lifeless heart,
I pressed on.
Finding my way through the darkness of
The dark and dreary roads.
There is always light on the roads we travel. You are only in darkness if you refuse to find the light. All it takes is a desire to find your way.
Inescapable MemoriesA loud thud from outside the base awakened the British Freelancer from her sleep. To the right of her laid Rhode Island, his chest rising up and down while he slept on peacefully. Very carefully Tennessee took hold of the man’s bare arm from her hip – somehow during the night he must have slung an arm around her – and placed it by his side.
Even though they shared a bed a couple of times now, either using it for sleep or to make love, Tennessee still wasn’t used to waking up to the sight of the Irish Freelancer. Blame it on the fact for the past few years she and Arizona got into a routine of sleeping together whenever one of their respective roommates wasn’t there.
Well, that was until her lover – her former lover to be precise – decided to throw away their relationship of two years away simply because of a disagreement that drove a wedge between them. With a heavy heart, Tennessee recalled their heated argument, remembering the look of immens
The Mouths of MonstersI live in the mouths
of sleeping monsters.
People walk in, blindly
as if they wish to be slaughtered
The monster roars
a mighty bellow,
as victims march in
fellow by fellow.
I have yet to be swallowed
I wait in this place
for the day the monsters and I
will meet face to face.
i woke up pissed off today.I keep breathing in memories
and they make me heave
and I want this all to stop
but there's something in me
that can't help but just keep
inhaling it all into me -
I'm an unwilling addict and
my gaze feels heavy just as my
chest is full of thunder and
my mind is all the damp fog
rolling off of my soul - why am I
not as light as air yet?
It's like I'm stranded with
absolutely no where to go or,
better yet, with absolutely
no where that I was to begin with;
it's like drowning—it's like
becoming the water and it's
like seeing yourself through
the sea's eyes;
it's two hurricanes in a bottle
with the atmosphere somehow
keeping it all inside but that
atmosphere is actually my mouth
and I am still trying to breathe
and doing a poor job at it;
all of that water taps at the tip
of my teeth but my head
is being held back by strong
hands that are somehow my own
when my own are holding onto
my throat and those hands are gentle
as they brush my hair and none
of that water spills over.