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1081 deviations

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125 deviations

Literature

The golden era

you gave me sterling silver promises in our golden age, but metal rusts and only the mother-of-pearl inlay on my music box has stood the test of time. (it was a gift from my greatest love, my mother) and inside all your platinum kisses and diamond desires lie tarnished and tangled with the cheap chains of part-time lovers, the scattered sapphire gems from sun-bleached worn-out one-night stands.

Poetry Favourites

143 deviations

Loki Favourites

82 deviations

Media Favourites

73 deviations

Contests

12 deviations

Literature

Untitled

washing my hands like fighting off demons is a part-time job for me. the other part is cutting other people's white picket-fenced-in lawns. they never think about their grass. maybe the grass wants to run off onto the pavement to mingle with the grass across the street. quit oppressing the fucking grass, motherfuckers. fuck them is the last thing I think before going to sleep. you shouldn't feel that way before closing your eyes. you might hit something. buddha once said. look, there's this deer. it's on the edge of the world... road, it's on the edge of the road. the sun went down ages ago. ages. it's dark, okay. so this deer is trying to

Prose Favourites

54 deviations

Boldly Facing The Future

Dec 4, 2014

DeviantArt Timeline | Share Artist Credit DanielaUhlig (https://www.deviantart.com/danielauhlig) Welcome. Many of you have been in this community for a long time, but whether you’ve just joined or you’ve been a member since day one, this is your first impression of the new DeviantArt. Change is not something that we take lightly, because it affects our collective identity. It was important for us to define who we are and what we’re made of at our core before we changed anything. We all have our own understanding of what that means, but the process of getting that core story down on paper took almost a year. The result is “Bleed and Breed Art.&

Journals and Commentary

38 deviations

Visual Favourites

528 deviations

Reminders

7 deviations

Literature

tell me things i already know.

i have bones inside my smile.

Six Word Story Favourites

8 deviations

Literature

camisado

planktonic in the human swell we ate our wings so we'd keep tame ancillary atoms consorting with the stratum when most zooids would withdraw from shore and haunt places more pelagic now night will be our cover with its rorschach eyes and hormone fodder for this show and tell philosophy where psuedo-suns can not deter from hyperbaric sleep but the spoils are ours to keep though vespertine and fleeting and bled into the water through sensory secretions

Again

35 deviations

Untitled by 0hgravity, literature

Literature

Untitled

Time Won't Tell by masvida, literature

Literature

Time Won't Tell

“There is no such thing as a cure,” he would tell us. We were a group of young addicts, addicted to happiness, (or the pursuit of), addicted to the idea of idyllic lands, addicted to perfect endings. We grew up being told that there would be a prince or princess that would rush into our lives and make all the evil witches die, or something like that. Which was wrong. I don’t know if I ever figured it out or if I was simultaneously truthful and a liar, but I just knew. I grew up knowing. And that was that, but it wasn’t, and the group of teenaged suicide-stories that surrounded me were a perfect testament to that fact.

Living by tatterdema1ion, literature

Literature

Living

The moon was high, a mere week from fruition, and its milky bath of light drizzled over the mountains. Lucent, its glow streamed into the river where the water dashed and frothed through the heights, throwing lunar eddies into coils of light that wound through the scintillating waves like ribbon. As these twin currents leapt over the dazzling heights of the falls they spiraled, as though their cascade to shatter on the gleaming rocks below were all an intimate waltz, each tide holding the other close until impact bound them in one, glorious effervescence. The tall, dark boy appreciated this from his lofty perch. He was grounded firmly at the

Judge Me? Know Me? by masvida, literature

Literature

Judge Me? Know Me?

I am human. I fell down when I was learning to walk and needed help back up. I cried my heart out over a dead bird and refused to stop crying until we had a funeral for it, and then cried harder when it was buried because I couldn't imagine a worse fate than being forgotten. I kissed a frog because I wanted to see if the fairy tales were true and the frog was really a person, trapped. I danced in the rain in my underwear because I thought that rain deserved to be absorbed by as much skin as possible, and I loved summer rain more than anything in the world. I loved to eat sugar when no one was looking, I climbed trees and made up stories abou

Taxi by glitter-fade, literature

Literature

Taxi

As a child, my daddy would always tell me, "You are who you are when no one is watching." Back then of course, I thought that meant if I picked my nose behind closed doors, I must have been a nose picker, but I think now I understand better. It was a rainy New York day, and I stood under my umberella on the corner all by myself. I wanted to go home, to soak myself in a tub, to eat sweets, to read my magazines. You would think that in New York there would be people everywhere, but on a day like this, when rain was pouring down on everything, most people were in their warm little cars, stuck in weekday traffic. Soon I would be too, if on

Contracts with Sea Witches by SurrealCachinnation, literature

Literature

Contracts with Sea Witches

The fact she used live ingredients and the suspiciously skeletal shape of her office should have been a sufficient warning, but truthfully, we are all too ready to make deals with Sea Witches. We grab for the bony fountain pen and it's almost surprising the ink is gold instead of warm, thick, and deep red. And who could notice her mystical words speak of the laryngitis that will infect our throats, or care that she embodies warped hyper-sexuality, as she hypnotizes us with promises that the fumes coming from her black cauldron can really change our lives? The idea of chasing fantasies our parents told us were foolish, hopeless

leave of absence. by satellitesaint, literature

Literature

leave of absence.

Below, nothing was seething and everything was quiet. His eyes cast downward, the grey-swirl of the water reflected nothing so that he was able to imagine that he no longer existed. That he could no longer feel his weight on the tree branch, which felt all the more heavy with the tick and tumble of his insides. He held loosely on to the neck of his half-filled beer bottle, occasionally swilling the amber liquid in semicircles, then back the other way. The air was stifling, suffocating, and more than once he had thought about being in the cool waters. As childish as it was, he couldn't bare to be the first to move, almost as if it would indica

Avarice by MadHat11D6, literature

Literature

Avarice

I. She is a girl of beauty. Tall, slim, soft features. This is the first thing that I notice. From her flawless, creamy skin, to her thick dark hair, rolling down her body in perfect waves. I sit, I watch. She sits, she smiles. But not at me, oh no. She doesn't even know I'm here, watching her in this crowded cafe. She is speaking to a man in a boring grey suit with salt and pepper hair. He too, has noticed her good looks. She knows it. I can tell by the way she leans in to him, the way she lets her skirt ride up her thigh as she crosses her legs. She flips her hair over her shoulder, flashing just enough skin to really get him interested. S

Writing Fairytales by serendipityprincess, literature

Literature

Writing Fairytales

I told him, "I think I'll write a book." He said, "Do it right, November. Write a best-seller and send me a copy with your autograph on the inside cover." "I can do better than that," I promised, our fingers intertwined for the last time, "I'll write the best damn book you've ever read. It'll tell the story of lost love and lost innocence, of found friends and staying out too late on a cold night, and the story of endings without closure. It'll be about boys and girls and break-ups and hook-ups and how everything happens in the backseat of cars." "They'll interview you on television because everyone wants to know who inspired the story

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