ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Months on the calendar keep flippin’ past,
From where I’m sittin’, feels like eternity
Time keeps tickin’ away, steady as she goes,
But all I’m thinkin’ is how to make it last.
Clock on the wall has a busted hand,
And the watch I used to wear is worn down,
So maybe we can stay outside time, inside,
Talkin’ ‘bout the times and the future we have.
Every week feels the same, changin’, but not,
When you’re holdin’ me close, nothing else is,
When you’re keepin’ me safe, I forget everything
Surrenderin’ every fear, worry, and weak spot.
I’m the type, tryin’ to stay grounded in reality,
The seconds and minutes passin’ like usual,
Yet all the time with you, darlin’, switches things,
And seems like it’s years we've been here.
From where I’m sittin’, feels like eternity
Time keeps tickin’ away, steady as she goes,
But all I’m thinkin’ is how to make it last.
Clock on the wall has a busted hand,
And the watch I used to wear is worn down,
So maybe we can stay outside time, inside,
Talkin’ ‘bout the times and the future we have.
Every week feels the same, changin’, but not,
When you’re holdin’ me close, nothing else is,
When you’re keepin’ me safe, I forget everything
Surrenderin’ every fear, worry, and weak spot.
I’m the type, tryin’ to stay grounded in reality,
The seconds and minutes passin’ like usual,
Yet all the time with you, darlin’, switches things,
And seems like it’s years we've been here.
Literature
terabyte ruins
we've clicked the help button
on the tool bar.
we're the first to admit we're confused.
this morning the council met with a proposal
to replace god.
there have been complaints.
"dear eternity, i'm disillusioned
your god is a single snapshot of deep space
and a soundtrack of silence.
i tried pressing reset.
my old model featured google images,
a personal blog, and a comment section.
yesterday's god had to be recharged.
it was a rough way to be hardwired,
but there was a five-year money-back guarantee
and excuse me, but i'm dissatisfied.
i'm not so sure about redemption,
and i saw it on the news yesterday:
they recalled the golden rule.
it
Literature
Empty Gardens
It was a wine-petaled pansy
that my mother pruned from the garden box;
it reminded me
that I had blossomed late and wilted.
At fourteen I created pansy petals of my own,
waking up with hot-fisted cramps
and the proof I was a woman.
I was not a rose, perennial,
as I went from blooming monthly
to not at all.
I would rather spend a day
curled up like the fetus I may never carry
than flat on my back wondering
why God allowed worse women than me
to bear children.
Literature
fragments.
You tell me that hearts don't work, that the sounds they make are just ghosts passing through. That bodies are pieces of everything everyone's lost slowly coming apart. Burning down childhood homes is a hobby of yours, and it's your plan to die that way, dancing with the flames. But oh, warrior of summers spent kissing too many girls with sharp teeth, put your lighter down. The night is a snow globe, and we are two figurines posed together as stars swirl around us. You can always burn yourself tomorrow. Be with me tonight, instead. Let the broken parts of me fit into the broken parts of you; I could be the piece you need to get your chest to
Suggested Collections
© 2014 - 2024 Chocolate-Waterfall
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In