ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Today I felt like water
stained slightly, perhaps
by some dark ink
but then again
perhaps not. Mainly
water, thin and wet
not solid
but just a dash
of something else. A flower
light, delicate and frail
texture smooth as water
but just a hint of
the ethereal. There is no
substance, not truly
it may just melt into the air
but maybe it is
just washed out. Not one thing or
another, perhaps it both
or neither
a mutable blend.
Yes. I feel like or water
possibly a flower
or the space between.
stained slightly, perhaps
by some dark ink
but then again
perhaps not. Mainly
water, thin and wet
not solid
but just a dash
of something else. A flower
light, delicate and frail
texture smooth as water
but just a hint of
the ethereal. There is no
substance, not truly
it may just melt into the air
but maybe it is
just washed out. Not one thing or
another, perhaps it both
or neither
a mutable blend.
Yes. I feel like or water
possibly a flower
or the space between.
Literature
Blue Eyes in Flames
When the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, hold
Literature
welcome to the real world
1. if someone invites you back to their place
for coffee, and you only drink tea,
don’t stress:
you probably won’t actually be drinking coffee.
2. when the creepy guy from work asks you out
again and you think about accepting for the first
time because you’re sick of going home alone and
you have never learned how to say no, don’t. learn.
stand in front of the mirror until you love yourself
enough for your skin to fit snug on your body. read
about the hundreds of millions of planets out in the
hundreds of millions of galaxies and feel so crowded
that you’re about to burst all over again.
3. you’re gonna
Literature
Grandfather
I recall,
He was white.
But, not the
--"controversial at political dinner parties" and "this racist comment will cost him the election kind"--
Stark, snowy, riveting white.
His hair was always victim to the static that came from
resting against
the mountain of pillows that topped off his hospital bed.
He always lay there,
a beacon in the middle of the dark, mudd brown, living room.
I suppose it was hell to live the last of his life there,
but at six, I thought he was God,
living on a cloud that was Heaven.
I remember his warm hands, their blue lines, and their wrinkles,
the way his smile never met his eyes--
and his eyes said he
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Cattleya is a colour. Well, actually its a type of orchid, but the orchid has a colour, so... it isn't exactly blue, nor precisely lilac, nor totally purple. Its sort of an in-between colour. At least I think so.
Written for Lissomer's Micro Colour Contest. Enter it, all ye colourful types, if you dare!
Written for Lissomer's Micro Colour Contest. Enter it, all ye colourful types, if you dare!
© 2014 - 2024 CatharticDistraction
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In