Newest
crayola cranesI (coincidentally taking up drawing againcrayola cranes
instead of
focusing on the topographical lines of a poem) now try to concentrate on lines that make mountains and "every tree needs a friend" a la Bob Ross.
("i'll say" is what she says and I respond with) "believe you me"
believe you me i'm trying as hard as i can to fold crayola images into cranes in hopes that they will fly to life and land on your fingertips.
by ~puppydawgkilla
i do noti lack creativity for metaphor for i do not want to insult you with words said in past tense, as you would insult me with saying my love to you is like a flower or some shit like that.i do not
i had a dream last night that you were sitting in the dirt drawing pictures with your fingers in the filth and i, not knowing the meaning, could not love you more,
i lack the creativity to compare you to something beautiful because i can say inane things like you are the definition of beauty for i would be offended if you said such a thing to me.
and in my head before i slept i thought of pressing my finger into your
by ~puppydawgkilla
the oceanI. childhood drifts like debris on polluted waters it is too late to find seashells that excite one's wandering stubbed fingers, with the little fingernails, and the little fingertips.the ocean
the awe of laughter in a child's voice and miracles of shooting stars dissipate forever into nothing, burned by the salty ocean.
dr. seuss riddles no longer make wonderers out of young minds and trees no longer make for good hammocks.
all lose touch with one's innerness.
II. she drinks like she is bottomless and talks like her throat will never
by ~puppydawgkilla
Random Favourites
the doorI found you hiding one day, under sheets, freshly washed Wondering how you made it past my door, past my eyesight I envisioned the halo, your glow for years now Though the shadows under your eyes distract I’m staring at your wrinkled shirt, your absent socks Could you want me, defeated like you’ve become Darlin’ don’t cry, don’t mind me sitting at your feet This foundation is anything but creeping up on us And those fingertips of your keep coming, crawling on my skin And as the sun leaves our faces I repeat these words over and overthe door
Close the door and pray y
by ~Gutterflower7
and we dancedby ~Aikara
deviantID
make records then set them
DefeatedDevious Info
- Current Residence: Florida
- Interests: the good stuff.
- Favourite movie: Me And You And Everyone We Know
- Favourite band or musician: Modest Mouse pre-international pop sensation
- Favourite genre of music: Tongues of Romance
- Favourite artist: De Grazia
- Favourite poet or writer: e.e.cummings / charles bukowski
- Favourite photographer: Breanne Rupp
- Skin of choice: mine, babeh.
- Favourite game: life
- Favourite cartoon character: tuxedo mask
- Tools of the Trade: love
- Email: prettyunicorns@hotmail.com
- AIM: JazzFluteSolo
- MSN: prettyunicorns@hotmail.com
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And you're the only place that feels like home
Just so you know, you'll never know
And some secrets weren't meant to be told
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<3
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find the bars; escape captivity.
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- - - - -
And you're the only place that feels like home
Just so you know, you'll never know
And some secrets weren't meant to be told
- - - - -
--
My pen bleeds and beats with each stroke, with each metaphor it strikes a chord and words come to life.
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May the fire from my pen scorch the skin of hades.
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find the bars; escape captivity.
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find the bars; escape captivity.
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