ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I stood holding back tears
like a guillotine against the wall,
praying that my heartbreak was a foreign language, that
this betrayal was a blade beneath my skin, invisible.
and in one moment I swear
I understood all the pain in the world.
I knew why I had let death roost
between my shoulder blades,
I knew why children grieved their tiny pets
and buried them in shoe boxes;
I understood mothers
leaving their children behind at parks,
I understood all those skinny boys smoking
and holding tight to women who cried,
I understood crowds with shaking hands
trying to breathe but forgetting
and trying to hit that high but missing
over and over and over again,
I understood why people lied,
fell out of love,
dyed their hair,
cut their skin,
hid their tears.
suddenly all this sadness that had been
around me all my life became real,
and I hated it,
I hated that it was real
so I cried for every single
lonely beaten person out there
and it still won't make a difference.
and he is a single drum beat,
a cold car before christmas,
a brush of lips,
a smile that could warm ancient relics.
why would you ever
pollute such a waterfall?
I will never understand
why we
cut and cut these curtains
when we know there's nothing on the other side,
and I can scream but it's siren song
and no one is listening,
deaf on deck
and hanging themselves from the masts:
this, I've learned,
is what they call "growing up,"
"changing," "learning,"
but to me it's just
closing my eyes and holding tight
and hoping that my wind-up soldiers keep going,
that those lungs filter it out,
that the cancers kill themselves
and I can reach
that single sofa,
that cliff where I had my first kiss,
this idyllic little heartbeat
I tucked away
as if I knew I'd need it later
to lean on, make me stronger.
and I know I'm expected
to let it drain
and let them drown.
but to be honest,
the only choices
are clinging to the ship
or letting go and dropping to the water,
and personally,
I've never quite caught the hang
of swimming
for my life.
like a guillotine against the wall,
praying that my heartbreak was a foreign language, that
this betrayal was a blade beneath my skin, invisible.
and in one moment I swear
I understood all the pain in the world.
I knew why I had let death roost
between my shoulder blades,
I knew why children grieved their tiny pets
and buried them in shoe boxes;
I understood mothers
leaving their children behind at parks,
I understood all those skinny boys smoking
and holding tight to women who cried,
I understood crowds with shaking hands
trying to breathe but forgetting
and trying to hit that high but missing
over and over and over again,
I understood why people lied,
fell out of love,
dyed their hair,
cut their skin,
hid their tears.
suddenly all this sadness that had been
around me all my life became real,
and I hated it,
I hated that it was real
so I cried for every single
lonely beaten person out there
and it still won't make a difference.
and he is a single drum beat,
a cold car before christmas,
a brush of lips,
a smile that could warm ancient relics.
why would you ever
pollute such a waterfall?
I will never understand
why we
cut and cut these curtains
when we know there's nothing on the other side,
and I can scream but it's siren song
and no one is listening,
deaf on deck
and hanging themselves from the masts:
this, I've learned,
is what they call "growing up,"
"changing," "learning,"
but to me it's just
closing my eyes and holding tight
and hoping that my wind-up soldiers keep going,
that those lungs filter it out,
that the cancers kill themselves
and I can reach
that single sofa,
that cliff where I had my first kiss,
this idyllic little heartbeat
I tucked away
as if I knew I'd need it later
to lean on, make me stronger.
and I know I'm expected
to let it drain
and let them drown.
but to be honest,
the only choices
are clinging to the ship
or letting go and dropping to the water,
and personally,
I've never quite caught the hang
of swimming
for my life.
Literature
Forgiveness takes two
The words are struggling
to tumble off my tongue,
and despite having
a fleshy cushion
to rest on,
they stain my teeth
and sting like acid
"I'm sorry," I stutter,
but the bitter taste
doesn't leave my tongue-
not because the words weren't true,
but because I know
I won't hear,
"me too."
Literature
not a poem
my depression is not a fucking poem
it is not just
the grayest of grays
or the darkest of nights
or the boy who didn't love me
its not worth any of those titles
and i'm not going to make cigarettes
look like medicine between my teeth
just because i am sad
i don't need to be told that the sky
is beautiful
or that the ocean
is beautiful
or that i
am beautiful
i do not want to hear about
the millions of different colors that the sky makes
at a certain hour,
and i do not want to hear
there is a tiny world trapped inside of my rib cage
i don't need to be told that the universe
cares and loves me deeper than my own mother
i know all of these
Literature
a list of things colleges don't want to know
1. i have a cactus named atticus that i bought
on the day i thought i was going to die,
and i never forget to water it, not
even when i forget how it feels
to breathe without my lungs rebelling
against my brain.
2. sometimes talking feels like walking on gravel
in a Georgian summer heat.
i try to keep talking anyway,
and hope that eventually
my voice will lose its softness and grow calluses.
3. once, a man whistled at me
outside of a grocery store from
the safety of his car.
four years later, i still haven’t stopped looking
over my shoulder.
4. i drive too fast and i take turns too sharply
and i never put enough sugar
in my tea
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
No clue what inspired this but I was feeling down the other day and this poem happened in a poem-puke. so today I sifted through it and cleaned it up a bit and thought I'd see what you lovelies thought.
catching up on dA stuff I've missed, should be back soon!
© 2015 littleblueraccoon
catching up on dA stuff I've missed, should be back soon!
© 2015 littleblueraccoon
© 2015 - 2024 littleblueraccoon
Comments40
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
