Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

welcome, winter

Deviation Actions

brokenfragilethings

Published: Nov 14, 2014

706 Views

Literature Text

i feel bare, he said, pressed leaves to his branches and prayed the world would just look away.

Wish Granted

trnhvu

$12.50

1000

Download

More by brokenfragilethings

Literature

gangrene

the crow on my balcony does not belong here just like my sadness just like my grief what does it feel like? he asks and i say it feels like holding a nail in your right palm and closing your fist while you know it's there but you choose to hurt yourself anyway and it's going green this wound is going green and acrid and i will have to amputate it but what am i supposed to do without a limb? what do i do when everything goes missing? where do i go? i don't know, he caws sounds like you broke your own heart, though, stupid

Recommended Literature

Literature

butterflied

it is a snake coiled in my stomach, the urge to vomit everything inside of me, to purge all the toxic not- good-enoughs. to retell the same story and expect a different ending is the dysfunction that landed us in here. I'm sorry I don't follow you into your dreams at night. I'm sorry my smile is not the moon, I'm sorry I did anything to make you notice me at all. no finger down the throat could ever take that away.

Literature

winter.

she doesn't see him. a lone wolf girl, with jagged shards of moonlight in her eyes, she's pieced together with frozen inhales- and him, he has a black/hole/heart. he can already see her fade away from him, without even a touch, into the harsh winter wind bared shoulders, snow skin a fearless storm of a goddess- "No," she said, still looking up at the sky. "i am brave because i am afraid."

Literature

flutterhands

You’re lonely— your arms clasped behind you in a figure four, flutterhands flit to tuck the loose strand of hair back then to pinch the stem of an empty glass you sip it anyways reapply crimson smooth dress check phone no texts type one out, delete it all later. You know, I would talk to you if you didn’t look so busy.

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

Look a Second Time

the last remaining nail holding our hot-orange saucer full of sun above us is about to let go and, as the drywall cracks, i’m back to boyhood and my grandfather sits across the breakfast table, train noises trailing from the corner of his mouth; he looks past me tracking something, left to right in the window behind me what? oh, it's the little train, runs 'long the sill' i turn around and i’ve missed it and soon as i return to my plate wait.. (a distant) woowoo fades right missed again; how i wish i still wanted to turn around and look a second time that table’s now likely lonely in landfill quiet, the window sold house

Literature

NaPo 2019 Day 2

i think about the things that split us at the seams. so, i think about the thunder in your voice and the hardness of your hands. the way the moon conceals what's been hidden, and illuminates what can't be recovered. the way you are the sword and the shield; the beginning and the end. the way you throw away the best of me, and watch me unravel in the dawn.

Literature

Infinity Perhaps

Our galaxy has long been thought to make us small, and to watch the stars is to fixate on the past. Perhaps we belittle ourselves when we put our hopes in the far away and long ago. But if the universe indeed goes on and on, perhaps we're bigger too: expanded by a smaller infinity of versions of us who know better than to shrink the universe to fit the limits of our comprehension. Perhaps it matters.

Poetry

Literature

moving

i. send him off at the airport does he look back at me? i'm sure he does, i must've not stared hard enough he thinks i'll wait for him back home. i do. he comes back, he didn't miss me. ii. i steel my heart, but it keeps melting. iii. i have to go, i'm disappearing. i ask him for help getting to the attic. i forgot where it was. i find my suitcase, empty, but tattered inside i place shards of unwashed dishes and the wrapping paper he sent along with my birthday present, back when we still believed in us my fingers bleed out, so does the case would i rather lose the baggage? or keep quiet, drag it out, leave another day iv. i chose the lat

Literature

i.

i was a girl born in the arms of a mother who was not quite herself, skin as pale (and a core as cold) as the moon i was a girl who was born to a father who was not quite the person everyone made him out to be, eyes as bright (and a heart as distant) as the sun i was a girl born in a city that was not quite urban drenched in with fog that clouded our eyes but never painted grey my heart, until i realized that i was a girl who was born not quite enough. an ocean girl with a pair of feet, a accidental child who couldn't replace the ones broken before her, a poetess heart in a house of silence but after all, who am i to question my roots when

Literature

Cinderella

Here I am In a chair, Head in my knees. Being scolded at for being so unappreciative. I thought I was better than this. I never say thank you in your eyes. Never think of the things you've done for us. You tell me to look at you when you're speaking, but how can I? There's a sister across the table almost crying for the second time in ten minutes. Then there's you Screaming at the top of your lungs Telling me how useless and rude I am Just because I find it easier to laugh the seriousness and my problems away Doesnt mean I have no feelings Doesnt mean I cant take what you say to heart You want to be the perfect daughter. I finally get what

Stories and Poems

Literature

My Life Story Isn't A Poem

This is what it feels like to crumble down in a blazing squall. You are muffled gunshots wrecking yourself in high speed collision with his brass armor. You compress every eruption by choking ashes and swallowing shatter glasses because god forbid you are a frostbitten girl with hitched breath and messed up mascara and god forbid you are explosive and god forbid you crumble down because no, you are an inspiration and you are clenched fist and sculpted chest, you are concrete and you are statue, you are the ice cold dusk and YOU DON

Literature

Why Books Suck

Let me write you a story of all you want to hear. Of intercourse and romance, drugs and beer. Of simple plots and story devices, where no thinking is required. I'll even make it into a series, everything you've desired. Pick it up in the middle, why not? It's all the same. So-and-so get together, there's sex on every page. It's the best story in the world, and it only took me six days! Don't worry about morals, there's none to be learned. If you hate life-long lessons, then enjoy every word. The characters are flat with the basic of descriptions, with no voice of their own. If one dies, no tears will be shed, there's another just arou

Literature

to the woman who drowned herself in the bathtub.

i. to the woman who drowned herself in the bathtub: in the magazine I own that published your story, they blurred out the crime scene photographs, erasing your face and the full curves of your breasts. some part of me wonders if you would have wanted this, or if you would have liked for the public to see you in your final moments, half-soaked in grey-looking water, your hair in strings, glued to the porcelain, eyes closed and mouth gaping, no breath stirring, no bubbles rising. ii. sometimes when I look into the depths of my bathroom sink, I hear your voice (or what I imagine it to be-- after all, we never met). you sit on the edge

you are stripping us naked.
i'm trying to keep myself together.
-
changed "prayed the world just looked away" to "prayed the world would just look away"
better? worse? it's a little thing but?

Comments18

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

Lyndale1608

Aug 6, 2019

This is beautiful, winter is one of my favourite subjects to write about. (And trees too, though none of my tree pieces are posted here.) I do agree with the other comments, I prefer it without the "would". There seems to be more depth behind it that way, it allows a little more flexibility to the reader's comprehension. (Just my opinion, it works well either way.)

DeviantArt - Homepage

DeviantArt Facebook DeviantArt X DeviantArt Instagram

About Contact Core Membership DeviantArt Protect

Developers Advertise Terms of Service Etiquette

Careers Privacy Policy Copyright Policy Help and FAQ

Watch Team and join our Community Group for the latest updates and activities.

Join Community