ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Such searing warmth;
Fire steering those trembling veins
Blood to water. Water to Blood.
With a simple caress, I flicker my cobalt eyes—
Daring you not to capture the glace;
A moth flitting away from kitten's paw
But then, with ever so subtle coo,
I return and linger. A knowing half-smile.
You know the one.
Pulse races faster. You thought you had me.
Clenching, enrapturing me
Around a thrilling cobra's coil.
But in that second's hesitation, I'll scurry away
Chin defiantly lifted as I hear your frustration,
But sense your mirth. I meet your gaze,
With that tight little grin.
You know the one.
Such searing warmth;
Fire steering those trembling veins
Blood to water. Water to Blood.
With a simple caress, I flicker my cobalt eyes—
Daring you not to capture the glace;
A moth flitting away from kitten's paw
But then, with ever so subtle coo,
I return and linger. A knowing half-smile.
You know the one.
Pulse races faster. You thought you had me.
Clenching, enrapturing me
Around a thrilling cobra's coil.
But in that second's hesitation, I'll scurry away
Chin defiantly lifted as I hear your frustration,
But sense your mirth. I meet your gaze,
With that tight little grin.
You know the one.
Literature
Routines
driving
my left arm
tanned darker than my right arm
mirror
two face
the habits of daily life
leave imprints
on skin
Literature
defeathered
and this is where we bury our hearts,
between self-defeating personality disorders
and burnt bridges and midnight ramblings
we promise ourselves aren’t true;
embedding our memories in forsaken homes
like it is a conscious decision to shed
our wings (reptiles don’t fly)
and maybe I am the monster of every
myth: wide-eyed and jagged toothed and
looking to regain a piece of myself the
world borrowed, many moons ago
as I falter and stumble over my own unaware
feet, wreaking havoc, reeking of self-acquittal--
all I ever wanted to do was belong.
dreams are flaws much like the hearts we
flaunt on our sleeves, and I seem to
have len
Literature
Chimes
A bird,
and the edge of winter. There are no signs.
I'm tired of this, the searing and the splitting,
metal on metal. I'm tired of myths. Won't you just be beside me,
be still? Let me picture you, just for a moment. Divine
concentration, that's all you take. Don't ask.
Living never felt natural.
But here we are, trying-
All for this one second,
this one flash of perfection. It's tricky
to be a person. I can never get the balance right,
and the seasons are a quilt,
heavy like a sand, damp
faces. Where is your voice, is it
beneath the soft song of the quiet? Your words,
did I make them?
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Written 10.03.2012. Wow, first new work in months. Found an online prompt "love hesitants" here: [link] Though this turned into a snippet more about the chase, but still...
© 2012 - 2024 paintedpoetry
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In