ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
-
mother's off-white
eyesockets like laundry hung out to
dry. the outside
sky: blunt want and
overdue.
-
loss is goldfish on hot cement
letting go is the first snow of the season
fall reminds me of the funeral and
dirt and
dirt.
she slapped you hard and shrill that
last godless evening but
right now there are acorns under her
flat gold shoes; the draw of her smile is
quick
not at all like fall and its
blown-glass halfness.
-
the funeral was a slow nubby
shuttering. white
and white,
and lace. she never
did like
that kind of thing.
-
letting go is when she
spins again on those flat gold
shoes. pale and young and
soft.
mother's off-white
eyesockets like laundry hung out to
dry. the outside
sky: blunt want and
overdue.
-
loss is goldfish on hot cement
letting go is the first snow of the season
fall reminds me of the funeral and
dirt and
dirt.
she slapped you hard and shrill that
last godless evening but
right now there are acorns under her
flat gold shoes; the draw of her smile is
quick
not at all like fall and its
blown-glass halfness.
-
the funeral was a slow nubby
shuttering. white
and white,
and lace. she never
did like
that kind of thing.
-
letting go is when she
spins again on those flat gold
shoes. pale and young and
soft.
Literature
jamais
the truth, as staunch and without ornament
as I can make it,
is that I did not want your love,
your voice rattling like the hoary whispers
of stars;
your dreams (rustling like cattails
and half-extended to meet mine)
were as foreign to me
as moonlight, concealed
in its various robes.
your sucking fireflies,
neon mothish words meant to draw me in,
flurried uselessly about me.
but now that your attempted eloquence
is more akin to the wick of a lamp,
charred and drowning in oil,
I may vaguely nod my head.
Literature
----
i wish i could singe my words
to your body;
maybe then i could
keep track of them.
if i could wound you,
split your skin and write
into the ice-scabs
run elastic through the seams
and tug,
until i am compressed
to a sugar pill,
small enough to keep in
the crook of your elbow
past the sun's death.
i want to remain.
woven into your various systems
and whispering through dishes,
wrinkles in your palm,
enveloped in the quietness
of lamp beams,
blinding and naked.
i want to keep you up at night,
have one-sided conversations
disintegrate into your memory,
into the burble of your constant mind.
Literature
tetnis
her skin bruises like storm clouds, cuts like lightning
and her skeleton aches for different reasons every day.
the blood on her knees matches the blush on her cheeks
and she thinks she's in love.
she starts to think she feels butterflies, but different
they're moths, attacking and decaying her insides
her liver is shutting down and she can't eat anymore
but the heart beat barely hurts
she looks into his pretty brown eyes and they're so
sad, so fucking sad she just wants to hold his fragile
face between her fingers but he's sand, he's water vapor
she blinks and he's barely there
he has scars like her, though his are less casu
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
like everything else you're
corrosive.
corrosive.
© 2010 - 2024 sliverofciel
Comments15
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
mother's off-white
eyesockets like laundry hung out to
dry.
This is an amazing opening stanza. I also really like the line break between outside and sky.
eyesockets like laundry hung out to
dry.
This is an amazing opening stanza. I also really like the line break between outside and sky.