|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
i listen to too many 8tracksi've never told anybody this,
but i'm telling you now that someday
i'm going to swim into the ocean
and never come back.
i'm going to swim so far out
that not even the largest lighthouse
could find me. i'm going
to let the seawater soak
into my veins until i'm bursting,
salty with the bitterness
of all the times i never had,
like the nights you rubbed
circles on my back. i'm going
to fight against the current, knowing
that i'll be defeated before
i even begin. it doesn't matter
that someday my body will be found
by either man or animal, for this body
is mere transport; my soul
will be of the sea, of the tides
that wash onto the shore and cling
to the sand. and maybe,
if you look closely enough,
you'll find me riding the current
probably a few weeks agoyou’re seven cups of coffee in and it’s 1 a.m.
the waffle house countertop seems
expansive in the dim light.
for the first time this night,
you deny your waitress the right
to pour you another cup.
if coffee can’t keep you awake,
you lay a tip on the tabletop when she is
bent over her phone.
she might be your age,
rings etched under her eyes
from a procession of shifts spent
waiting for the sun to rise.
outside, you spark the lighter.
smoke slides down into your lungs
then shoots back out your nose,
curls in haloes above your head.
wade out into the adjacent field of barley
where the plants are hunched over
in their opulence; teeming with granules
that beg for the harvest.
cup the soft soil in your palms,
mix it with the scintillating light from the diner,
and realize you are only just beginning to understand
the complexity of things.
saccharineshe’s made of cotton candy:
spin, twirl, break, then dissolve.
sugar rushes through her veins,
viscous, arteries clogging
from the buildup. her eyes are filmy
and she leaves a sticky residue
wherever she touches. many
find her a delight but she rarely stays
for long, her presence disappears
as their lips forget her name,
their tongues forget her taste.
she starts everywhere and ends
nowhere. parents warn their children:
stay away, she’ll make your teeth rot.
yet they persistently return
with their nickels and dimes,
insisting on just one more taste.
seasonal reflectionsi. autumn arrived with a reckoning,
the pine cones held secrets and they’d whisper
to me in the night as their sweet wood hands fell
to the ground; i tasted maple honey
while sticky fingers scraped bark
that screamed sweetly to the sunset
ii. winter came slowly, timberland
freeze and peppermint icicle swirls
on frosted puddles as cold as Siberian igloos,
Eskimo girls in bear skin hats and leather gloves;
i was never one of them but i heard
they breathe out steam in glacial time
iii. spring bloomed and so did the bruises,
black and blue like Van Gogh’s starry
night, minus the stars; my teeth grew crooked
as wildflower veins and my hair sprouted
like meadow grass, i pretended i was a coppice
nymph and at dusk i sang with the cicadas
iv. summer sought the hidden gardens,
the scorched earth cultivated secrets in barren
soil, foolish, i dug for the answers but uprooted
only last year’s seeds, tore the foundation down
with broken nails; i danced with honey feet on
It’s been a year and I can still remember waking up, disoriented and alone. You were my compass, and you left. I don’t quite know how, but I’ve managed to make my own way without you. And it hurts. God, it hurts. Sometimes I wonder where you are and what you’re doing and who are you with? Are you with someone else? Are you with him? I know you won’t ever receive this letter, that the postal service will realize how hopeless these efforts of sending this are, but I can’t help myself. I can’t help that I still think about the way your lips fit perfectly with mine or how right it felt to be with you. I know that this message will end up as one of thousands of others in the dead letter office but maybe, just maybe, it will reach you.
Six months and four days: that’s how long it’s been since he has sent the letter. He lives in New York City, in an apartment that he still has yet to pay
Theological Semanticswe are on vacation in Florida
when she asks me, “what is God?”
and i correct her, “who is God?”
and she shakes her head, repeats
“what is God?”
the sea sounds fill the gap.
i can see a storm roll in
over the ocean expanse
and i take a breath and answer:
God is all of the things that can’t be explained
with recitations and verses.
God is the space that empties itself to tangibility
and the ghosts that scream in the wind.
God is the meaning between the breaths and last night’s
whiskey running through your veins.
God is the reflection in your eyes and the mist exhaled
into January nights that evaporates under the moon.
God is the sounds too high to hear, frequencies
not meant for humanity because we would misinterpret.
God is all of the pasts that never were and all of the
futures that will never come to be.
“does that answer your question?”
and the sea washes
away our footprints
The Eventual Give and TakeI can always tell when I’m pushing you over the edge, and I want to stop, I do. I want to close the wounds I’ve opened, to patch you up with dollar store bandages so you will no longer bleed sorrow. I want to make it okay. I want your eyes to shine like the stars you capture and your smile to reflect sincerely when you look in the mirror. I want to please you and I want to unburden the weight I put on your shoulders. I want you to be joyful, but not happy, because happiness can be washed away as quickly as sand is pulled back into the sea. I want to be your escape, not your prison. So give me the key, and I’ll lock it away with all of the other things that I want.
My dear, what you lack in understanding you make up for in insolence. You have never come close to pushing me over the edge. You have never made me bleed sorrow. I may appear to break and bend to the whims of your subconscious desires but remember: an ounce of advice makes for a wealth of p
The DregsThere are kids killing
themselves on concrete
beneath flickering street lamps
that watch over the city like
and T.J. Eckleburg would
shake his head,
lost in the urban sprawl
of the future eating the
past. They are
trying on tongues
under clouded moonlight,
for mother, madre, mére,
ahm, abatyse, äiti,
but stumbling over strange
vowels and unfamiliar
consonants because their
teeth are stained from
too-hot coffee and a
of fluoride. Caffeine
overload, synapse electric,
a metropolis made hectic
by layered skyscrapers
clawing at the sun, shadows
casted over the neighborhoods
no one speaks about
How to Ride a HorseBecause he’s kicked you
assert your dominance
Lead him to the mounting block
Climb atop his back
Let him feel
your weight before
you squeeze his belly
Take the reins
between your fingers
to the ring
Warm him up
with repetitive circles
Before you point
him towards the jump
urge him to a canter
as you fly through
the air and land
Straighten up— don’t
Among the BonesOf a graveyard mismatched piles of bones,
upturned dirt offer little solace for forgotten
no markers told of where they lay.
Silent burials happened there.
Not a word said as the dirt poured in the grave
of mismatched bones and broken skin.
For among the bones tales of woe sing out
sorrow for the lost moments and forgotten love
no one visits their graves in the forest.
Soft crying as they buried the past
quiet promises never to forget and please forgive
for it will never happen again they swear.
Yet the shallow graves all around,
speak a different story of hurt and pain
with mismatched bones sealing it away.
Unheard souls lay without peace,
waiting for the great one to call their name
among the bones they cry, always and forever.
disintegrationmy teeth are cracking:
i dream of enamel-kissed
spiders, their limbs trailing
the contours of my gums;
from nails, ungerminated
and rotten, desecrating
my digits; i dream
puddles of my own hair
the erosion of my flesh,
of my organs;
my resolve, too,
Zalgo: Rend the VeilZalgo: Rend the Veil
Candlelit inferno, wretched, wasted, and wracked
A hole in the void burns two shades beyond black
The illusion is gone, look upon truth and weep
Line up for the slaughter, all brainless sheep
Torn eyes drip eldritch ichor, vile humours
There is no antidote for the poison, no cures
Ink of sanity’s ruin, this purest of the primal fears
The seven mouths speaking what no one hears
Unknown fates for all, an eternity in the rift
This sacred insanity, madness is his holy gift
And as the last mouth sings the song we waited for
What wonders beyond the veil will be in store?
Thus the lonely road...Thus the lonely road is often a safer bet depending on your innovation and wisdom while on safari, just because the threat of human evil is lessoned, does not mean the dangers of nature don’t still apply. When we’re honest with ourselves with regard to this simple fact, we can overcome almost anything. Because we’ll never stop looking for a solution to the challenges before us, which in reality, we really do naturally regardless Our immediate recognition and evaluation of encountered circumstances naturally form a fight or emotional flight reaction that must consciously be dealt with relative to our knowledge, experience, expectations, and wisdom..Self trust coupled with a sturdy plan, is the ultimate antidote to the imaginations adversity’s and tendency, to inspire delusions or the disillusionment of the ideas formed within the human mind. As difficult as the obstacle plaguing you seems to be, it’s no match for the determination of inspired spirit. The su
Day of DemonsPeople walk peacefully down the streets
A loud murmur of talking is the soundtrack
They hurriedly move towards their destinations
Uncaring about those around them
Unknown to those hurrying people
Claws begin to poke out of the ground
Behind those claws come a hand, then an arm
Then comes the ugly head of the body
Out comes the first demon
A dastardly looking black creature
With joy, the demon comes behind a woman
Carefully, his long yellow claws reach for her shoulder
Annoyed, the woman turns around
But the sight of the demon freezes her anger
The blood drains from her face as fear overtakes her
She lets loose a bloodcurdling scream
Fueling the demons rising from the ground
One by one the rest of the humans notice them
Sending each of them into a panic
The demons happily chase after the people
Like a cat after a mouse
The reverberating screams are cut off
One by one as the chaos continues
The survivors hide where they can
As the demons run around the street
Occasionally slipping in red
DeathHold your loved ones
Hold your friends
Twisted tunnel never ends
Find the darkness
Find the light
Never show how much they fight
You can't hide
You can't run
You will die before it's done
Death is near
Hide your fear
Pray it will be quick in here
Question three, Do you hate everyone equally? “Jeff, do you hate a particular group of people, or do you "hate everyone equally"?
“Do I hate everyone equally?” His voice rings through the emptiness of his own home, repeating the words as if looking for reassurance his ears aren’t deceiving him. Time and time again imagery flooded through his minds accompanied by sound that could not live side by side with the rules of reality. Yes, Jeff was coming close to accepting he was insane. He turns his face with a smile creasing his bloodied and scarred lips before he lets out a soft chuckle.
The killer pursed his lips as the floorboards creak underneath his weight, his breath slightly hitching in his throat he moved towards his brother, Liu who lay motionless in bed. His hand slides over the sheets before his fingers grasp at the sheets, yanking them off in one fluid motion.
“Liu, brother…shhh…it’s time for you to go asleep.”
With a groan Liu’s body turned away from the dar
I'm The Queen
Graveyards, suicides, & Halloween
they belong to my kingdom
because I'm the only queen.
I'm the queen of the darkness
believe what you read
this is not a baseless.
Blades are my companies
you may call it creepy
French may call it "manies".
I appear in your nightmare
covered with dark tattoos
you must worry & take care.
Razors are my comets & stars
they fall to sketch scars.
The scars drew maps on my arm
so I don't care to any harm.
horrorhis tongue spits venom into my trembling bird bones-
whittles away from the inside out, progressing
intangibility to insomnia, hush dear and-
sleep, a hesitant rung above unconsciousness,
a land that none wish to dwell for
too long, fairytale monsters and twisted
whispers intertwine with synapses, leaving me
writhing and shaking and finished:
Keep in Touch!
Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More