Newest
quiet as a mouseyou were the contradiction between warm wool jackets and Nazi eyes, the one that called me sweetheart and surveyed the rotten apple of my body, pausing here and there to bite, to bruise. the one that incessantly called me beautiful, as if the words could cancel out the fact that I was a bundle of rough, swollen skin. the one that saw my shaking, those awful tremors of simple love, and never made sound.quiet as a mouse
by ~redpapermoon
gentleI would like nothing more than to curl upon your giant frame, kiss your scratchy chin, and try to ignore the way you look at me like I'm something more than a weary bag of bones.gentle
by ~redpapermoon
nonsenseI know that you are not the forgetting type, but I can't help but wonder: do you still smell me on your clothes, your sheets, when you wake up every morning? [I do... I search desperately for you in mountains of laundry I've washed twice since you've been gone]nonsense
it's just that my head tends to spin in place when I find myself alone, alone, a lonely girl; silly legs sprawled with too much intoxication and ohsomany words.
give me nonsense syllables: if they fall from your lips, they cannot be less than sincere.
you spoke through guitar strings &nbs
by ~redpapermoon
Favourites
In the mood for mood.We vacationed with gravitas: burning fires, passion near the ice box machine, Mexican beaches, and one long glorious night in a cabin tucked in the woods where our sighing chorus started the coyotesIn the mood for mood.
singing. But the best was when we got home, our luggage cuddled in the vestibule, or the hallway, but it was a vestibule to us because it was OUR hallway, where we threw off our vestments, which were really just our clothes but they seemed like garments, like raiment, like habits sorely religious, which is how we felt dropping t
by ~exhalesigh
by ~tommythekat
Three Weeks After I DiedI met a boy inside the lion’s cageThree Weeks After I Died
of an abandoned zoo. What are you
doing here? the boy said to me
I’m dead I said, and after that we sat
in silence watching where the dark street ends,
imagining the kind of people who used to visit it and waiting for the lion to return.
by ~Swim-Inside
Journal
No journal entries yet.
deviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Seattle, WA
- Shell of choice: the one in my pocket that sings so sweetly I cannot remember my troubles
- Wallpaper of choice: vintage floral
- Skin of choice: the rough, calloused kind
- Favourite game: hide and seek
- Personal Quote: "I was the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes."
- Email: redpapermoon@hotmail.com
- AIM: poppiesandkisses
deviantART Community Board
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
--
i'm a genuine fake
spring IS coming, isn't it? i'm SO glad you reminded me of this important fact.
--
i've been alright. mainly just trying to shake this sickness, and studying greek.
how's seattle treating you? and life?
--
--
Hope incubates in the warm loam of every armpit. --Tom Wolfe
--
Lights will guide you home.
--+--RetaeaNicole--+--
*painters ~eye-see-all ~perfect-circle
*dapride ~poetrycafe ~makeup ~I--
--
Lights will guide you home.
--+--RetaeaNicole--+--
*painters ~eye-see-all ~perfect-circle
*dapride ~poetrycafe ~makeup ~I--
Previous Page12Next Page