ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
We took a family photo at her viewing -
a mother of four boys and a wife.
I got a print and framed it in mahogany
and hung it beside all the
other crap on my wall. Let's
glue them in a scrapbook and
call it the good ol' days, buckaroo.
And why not? That's what everyone
else does - framing this
horror with nice mahogany things
like "with time it gets easier", and
"she's in a better place." You see,
the problem is I'm not in a better
place anymore. The place I'm in
gets worse and worse, and all
your silly platitudes mean
nothing.
Explain to me how love comes with a
price - that I will hurt when
others hurt until the end when one
of us is gone, leaving the other
to wallow in heaps of this
"forever less" we call a world.
Explain it to me twenty years ago,
and get it into my little-boy brain
please so I can have it taught to
me properly, forgoing this
mahogany-framed cosmic joke of an
experience, buckaroo.
a mother of four boys and a wife.
I got a print and framed it in mahogany
and hung it beside all the
other crap on my wall. Let's
glue them in a scrapbook and
call it the good ol' days, buckaroo.
And why not? That's what everyone
else does - framing this
horror with nice mahogany things
like "with time it gets easier", and
"she's in a better place." You see,
the problem is I'm not in a better
place anymore. The place I'm in
gets worse and worse, and all
your silly platitudes mean
nothing.
Explain to me how love comes with a
price - that I will hurt when
others hurt until the end when one
of us is gone, leaving the other
to wallow in heaps of this
"forever less" we call a world.
Explain it to me twenty years ago,
and get it into my little-boy brain
please so I can have it taught to
me properly, forgoing this
mahogany-framed cosmic joke of an
experience, buckaroo.
Literature
Hollow
Here amidst the bones bleached white,
the echoes become trapped in ribcages
like a heartbeat.
But it’s just a sound.
No blood pumps through the
marrow thick like
baby’s breath-
flowers for someone who is sick or dying or
dead.
No light shines
under the skin and muscle.
How dark it must be for the
delicate, fleshy bits underneath.
The lungs don’t know when it’s time to
go. No moon to guide them.
How do they know when to
stop?
Does the heart even know the color
of blood?
Literature
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time,
There was a little girl,
She had a family, friends,
And all the time in the world.
Once upon a time,
The little girl's family fell apart in a day,
Her father walked out, her mother was never home,
And her siblings pushed her away.
Once upon a time,
As the little girl grew up,
She started having less time,
And she was always in a rush.
The little girl became a teen,
And all of her friends left her life,
Everyone started bullying her,
And she turned to the knife.
Once upon a time,
The teen missed that little girl,
But she was gone forever,
Distorted by the world.
Once upon a time,
The teen remembered how she had it all,
N
Literature
Untitled
Locura de un escritor de corazón negro
Inspiración dime donde estas que extraño tus caricias y anhelos.
Por tu mano fluía tu gracia y voluntad porque haz de dejar a este pobre y descarriado escritor que lo único que quiere es amor.
La soledad es impecable, la locura me hace bailar, y su sinfonía me hace estallar, sin un son ni un tan mi psique empieza a descarrilar.
La mujer que amaba me abandono sin mas, ignorándome y destruyéndome con esa frio ignorar.
Amigos y familia ya no los considero más porque la paranoia me está haciendo desvariar.
Corazón roto donde se filtra la oscuridad,
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Comments7
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Absolutely love this. It's utterly devastating, but the strength of character, here, is tremendous. Incredibly well-written. Fab! x