ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I might have a scrappers knees,
wildflowers growing on my knuckles,
& I might remind you of every nasty thing
you ever did,
but I don’t see you in my mirror.
I just have the right
to hate my own face.
-
Oh atlas,
I think this hitchhiker’s heart
is breaking &
I don’t have the medical skill-
or the time
to suture the pieces
back together again.
So please;
lead me,
lead me
anywhere,
but here.
wildflowers growing on my knuckles,
& I might remind you of every nasty thing
you ever did,
but I don’t see you in my mirror.
I just have the right
to hate my own face.
-
Oh atlas,
I think this hitchhiker’s heart
is breaking &
I don’t have the medical skill-
or the time
to suture the pieces
back together again.
So please;
lead me,
lead me
anywhere,
but here.
Literature
He Idles At the Break of Day
He idles at the break of
day with a hum-song
from his engine, winds careening
along windows cracked, and the
copious chirps of an April bird.
"Is it music?" He wonders - that
ordered-chaos-well-from-the-soul - an
ostinato engine to the stringing
of windly breezes - and the singing,
oh how the singer sings her sun-dust
melody, like angels from tree-lined
shadows on a horizon of blazing light.
Literature
misdirected
I’m
trapped back in time like
a sinner on something sweet;
don’t ask me to move on
(hey,
kaleidoscope eyes never knew left
from right. I’m different, I’m different;
bleeding white and crying black and
flying out in a storm with paper wings)
I fell in love with a broken idol--
bruised throat and splintered fingers,
the most beautiful shade of purple
to ever fade out. He never knew
my name,
maybe I’m dumb.
maybe I forgot the way the world spins backwards
and that happy endings only come from fairytales
rewritten so that children can fall asleep.
in all my years I never quite learned
how to disappear comp
Literature
confessions of a misguided poet
certain things in my mind
would be better left unsaid,
such as:
i. how I stared at a bottle of pills
for an hour as if they would slide down
my throat on their own.
ii. when I stepped out of the shower
with bloody knees and didn't bother
to put a band aid over them.
iii. why I can't keep a smile long
enough for someone to take
my picture.
iv. who I wanted to be when I was
a little girl and who I am
right here and now.
v. where I tried to jump off a
bridge and landed in water
deep enough for me to swim in.
vi. what I wanted to scream at
you that day but I just stayed
silent and hoped you would forget.
no more pretty words and
l
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Comments12
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
i really like those first four lines