voids.
LonelyI've seen a castle in wales.
but I'd rather wake up beside you,
and breathe that old familiar smell.
~SpiffyChicky
AlissaNewest
religion.The words do not come easily anymore, as if you stole them from me whilereligion.
we slept face to face, letters falling out of my mouth, into the hollows of your collarbones. I will give them up, remain wordless, if you allow me to stay in your dark room, mumbling whispered prayers into
your neck, your hands roaming my back, straying over my hair. Where there once was my alphabet, now all prayers rely on
your steady, beating heart. There is no safer place than hiding in the concave of your arms.
by ~SpiffyChicky
and I said, what about BreakfaWe watched Breakfast at Tiffany's in the afternoon, or I think it was the afternoon, I think I rememberand I said, what about Breakfa
yellow light coming through the beige blinds. I think I remember a haze that makes me think
it was summer, although it was only March, March 7, and I laid on my stomach, and you laid on my back, and pressed your cheek with its hours of stubble against my cheek, laced your fingers through my fingers, and we watched Holly Golightly be caged by love. I remember. Afterwards, we were getting ready when you reached under my t-shirt, which was really your t-shirt, and we mad
by ~SpiffyChicky
the line.His happiness is a suit I wear when others are looking, and so he calls me happy-go-lucky sometimes, although he has seen me cry when we are alone. We have sat on a hotel bed, the sheets twisted, the lights off but I can see the shape of his back. He has held me down because I asked him to, determination etched on his face until he saw my face when I said stop.the line.
This is how you know it's love: the recognition when you have crossed a line, and the frantic way you wish to grab
that strand of time, roll it back in your shaking hands.
by ~SpiffyChicky
clean.I burned myself at work, the dark oil splashing angrily on my wrist in revenge for me trying to clean what does not wish to be cleaned. I wiped it off onclean.
my apron - three hundred and fifty degrees makes your skin melt when wiped.
I have a scar, but I am not worried. You kissed the scar on my shoulder when we were making love, you kissed my eyelids when I released the scar of what was done to six-year-old me. I know you will hold my hand, press your mouth against the discolored skin, and clean what begs to be cleaned.
by ~SpiffyChicky
Random Favourites
The smell of apples.The smell of apples
'before the weather goes bad', sending hinged doors agape like the slow-drawled sorghum mouths of south Jasper, Georgia boys-
'better get in the clothes', mother spoke with white picket teeth and the sway of hips, a debutante without her bustle.
me and the cher-o-kee girl chase spirits wrapped up in father’s white undershirts, spinning in dirt cyclones across the yard- the game was run out of breath fast and hard without dying.
a dry lightning storm makes the air taste like moonshine and we ignored the protests &
by ~WhoKilledKirov
I'm a fool to want you.I'm a fool to want you
I wrote a jazz standard in the air around your body with piano key fingers and let the ceiling fan sing each note.
and much unlike Billie’s ambiguous Unrequited-
I do know what love is and I’m bothered by the suggestion; and your need
to reaffirm this isn’t just sex
(it isn’t thoughtfulness)
I’d sloppily draw every shadow-puppet heart on the wall if it didn’t seem like a little too much for messy mouthed babies licking vanilla,
clean from the cone.
though o
by ~WhoKilledKirov
Love Poem..Love Poem
last night I made a man out of pillows and forgotten fragments of clothes we’d pushed into my drawers. I held my pillow-man’s hand and made sure he wasn’t too warm because it is summer; I’m on the second floor; and that was always your biggest complaint.
this morning I tried to shower but would turn off the water and run like a soapy dog, complete with loyal tail wagging, to the door thinking you’d come knocking. You hadn’t.
tomorrow will taste like the food of a week ago and I’ll wear sunglasses, whi
by ~WhoKilledKirov
deviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: I live without accents.
- Interests: music. movies. photography. writing.
- Favourite movie: Pulp Fiction. Little Miss Sunshine. Fight Club. Juno. Singin' in the Rain. many, many more.
- Favourite band or musician: Green Day. Rilo Kiley. Bright Eyes. Death Cab for Cutie. Brand New. Simple Plan.
- Favourite genre of music: I don't believe in selecting by genres.
- Favourite artist: Edward Hopper.
- Favourite style of art: poetry, if it is written well. photography, if it is taken well.
- MP3 player of choice: iPod.
- Skin of choice: theirs.
- Favourite cartoon character: Helga G. Patacki.
- Personal Quote: "Encircle me, I need to be taken down." Tegan and Sara.
- Tools of the Trade: one notebook. one pen. some songs.
- AIM: ali bernadette
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Though fictional characters are not real in the conventional sense, don't they affect more people in the world than any one real person? And because of that, does it not make them real in their own way?
Avatar made by Blackmago :]
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I would have a signature if they allowed longer signatures. I wrote three paragraphs and deviantART said, 'Sorry, 1 error prevented this form from being saved. Please correct any errors indicated below and try again.'
hows life?
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Couple naughty swinger life style not the lady of the lake sir walter scott 1880 of japanese sex anime.partnerships.
how is life with you?
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lover, now that you've left me,
I'm glad you're unlovely.
actually thats a lie. just wanted to use L words.
in love and interesting eh? maybe you will get a sweet ass poem out of it.
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Couple naughty swinger life style not the lady of the lake sir walter scott 1880 of japanese sex anime.partnerships.
Katrina whored you to me.
Thank you Katrina.
Oh, you are beautiful.
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sucking all the marrow out of life,
doesn't mean choking on the bone.
I appreciate the watch. and Katrina pimping me. and the favs.
you are wonderful.
--
lover, now that you've left me,
I'm glad you're unlovely.
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