mbdAnd these bars are rusted
This is no place for us to die
Before the seas boil over
And the wind and the water
Make a grave for you and I
'Cause we gotta get out of this place
Newest Deviations
The Failed Resurrection...strokes of lipstick unevenly smear across the sheen of teeth while a dress fits loosely like theThe Failed Resurrection
tattered rags of a forgotten scarecrow, the arms and legs
billowing in the wind. …douse the highway of vertebrae with cheap perfume as metatarsals and phalanges swim, stripped,
by *aheavenlywaytodie
four hours without fear...at eleven I lay my body down in the tall grass, (allowing my spine to rest against the warm earth) and count the constellations that my eyes feel free to design...four hours without fear
...at twelve I anchor my feet in the sand, (allowing the fine grains to slip
by *aheavenlywaytodie
Los GorrionesThey slept amongst the bare branches of an almond tree dreaming Siamese dreams, connected at the temple and disseminated through their bodies. Across the field the winds blew, chilling the morning air and freezing the earth to the flesh of the land with merciless vehemence. Somewhere the sun was rising but without the promise of warmth, of life, of rejuvenation. A hollow gesture more so out of ceremony than desire. Everywhere Andalusia braced itself for the sorrow and greyness of winter.Los Gorriones
The bride dreamt of white plumage, a ceremonial gown pristine as the flowers that grow wild across the country in spring. In her left
by *aheavenlywaytodie
Favourites
ride on the undergroundride on the underground
hunched creature rattling: a snake in a rat-trap shrieking like a banshee it throbs along a thick tunnel licks the curving walls away sweating against them, eats through gravel, wormlike— skeleton bones howl and snap: taca-ta-taca-ta-taca-ta spitting through a dank fissure clenched to ranks of tracks. inside, hanging people shudder swaying together, knocked like stones in a tumbler; old arthritic bones cracking and twisting a cold metal body.
by ~the-beastie
NeutraldeviantID
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Devious Info
- Operating System: gerbil on wheel and abacus
- Shell of choice: chocolatey-caramel
- Skin of choice: the one that's on me now
- Tools of the Trade: equal parts spite and self loathing
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And they aren't the worst days in my life. Yet also not the best times.
I wish I was able to express my feelings through words like yours.
Counting down to zero is indeed no shit I must add, your poetry is the only poetry that I read. I can't connect to most poems, sometimes they are too deep for me and I don't get them but the average lyrics are just plain and especially darker ones tend to be more whiney than actually deep thoughts.
Hmm, somehow I'm not good at telling people that I like their art. But just telling "Wow, cool." is just not enough.
See you in summer.
--
La Belle Dame Sans Merci xxx
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