ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
i.
we have lost carpe diem to the
empty echo of hollow words
it is time to reconstruct ourselves
and learn to live and love explosively
ii.
we have learned to take for granted
and forgot to give ourselves fully
let's string axes above our heads and
live to learn we'd give our lives tomorrow
iii.
we must rid our skulls of the frivolous
lyrics to anachronistic lullabies and
replace them with the sounds of marches
i sleep better with a bullet through my head
iv.
they have forgotten the boom-snap-clap
pattern of our strictly-idealistic words
when i was kissed there were hints of
napalm flavors to assure me we had entered realism
v.
tomorrow you would give and they would take
your life; tonight you seized your day and
sung me lullabies while promising that they
were only going to help you get some sleep</i>
we have lost carpe diem to the
empty echo of hollow words
it is time to reconstruct ourselves
and learn to live and love explosively
ii.
we have learned to take for granted
and forgot to give ourselves fully
let's string axes above our heads and
live to learn we'd give our lives tomorrow
iii.
we must rid our skulls of the frivolous
lyrics to anachronistic lullabies and
replace them with the sounds of marches
i sleep better with a bullet through my head
iv.
they have forgotten the boom-snap-clap
pattern of our strictly-idealistic words
when i was kissed there were hints of
napalm flavors to assure me we had entered realism
v.
tomorrow you would give and they would take
your life; tonight you seized your day and
sung me lullabies while promising that they
were only going to help you get some sleep</i>
Literature
truth number 128:
we're not the fairy-tale that stops at happily-ever-after. no, we're the one
that ended with: you're nothing but a liarliarliar who shattered my heart.
Literature
frayed ends
No, please god... not her... He whimpers, his eyes moored to her flimsy, stranded body. He can see her heart palpitate, pummeling her exterior at such a rate, bruising her surface. His voice cracks, he cant stand the sight of her trembling.
No more... please. His knees buckle. He reaches to comfort her fragile boned hands, so cold. he wants to kiss her knuckles, bring back the colour to her skin but his fierce breath hardly impacts. He feels so remote though she is so close, so close but not close enough.
-
Saturday nights were meant to be spent huddled on the couch, her in his warm grasp. Listening to his h
Literature
unmapped
i know not where
to begin. the stares
are careless, the stars
couldn't care less,
and the world won't wait
(to spin),
while i catch my breath.
there is no space
in air to take the sky
for a ride in the water,
but i am still
enthralled by
opportunities afforded -
rapt
at each strange path
to be progressed.
we write backward ways
to overlay our inky feet,
these prints too deep to keep
receipt of old transgression.
of misplaced blessings.
of miracles abandoned,
now blooming
on the vine.
you are wrapped around
a finger of flowers
and colour speaks louder,
but by nature
every gesture
of your ghost-shape
is divine.
Suggested Collections
entry twenty.one for the hundred themes challenge
this is entertainment
li[v]es are entertainment
you are down on your knees
begging me for more
- innerpartysystem ; don't stop
i really don't like this one :/
next: theme twenty.two - mother
previous: theme twenty - fortitude
this is entertainment
li[v]es are entertainment
you are down on your knees
begging me for more
- innerpartysystem ; don't stop
i really don't like this one :/
next: theme twenty.two - mother
previous: theme twenty - fortitude
© 2009 - 2024 SocraticSynapses
Comments73
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I really like it