|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
LadyI could lead you on,
I could break your heart
Life's a big story
And you play a big part
I could ask you to dance,
And beg you to stay
Make you want more
Before running away
I could tell you the truth;
That I can't settle down
Sell you a smile
While wearing your crown
I could make up a lie,
And say that you're mine
Pretend that I'm hurt
But that's wasting our time
I could make it sweet,
And grant any wish
All for the sake
Of one little kiss
InsideI hope you're happy!
Even though you're the son of a bitch that put me here
I hope you're well!
Even though you've killed me a thousand times and more, Why not do it again?
I hope you know you're loved, dear
Even though I want nothing more than to punch your pathetic, know-it-all face
I hope you know, I'll always be here, and I will always love you, no matter what
I hope you know, I want you to die.
My PenMy pen is my friend, my life, my words
It is the pain and anger, the love and joy
The heartbreak in every love song, and the heart in every breakup
It is the silence of day, and the music of night
The white of ash, and the black of snow
It is the beauty of tears, and the fear behind every person's eyes
The promise of yesterday, and the wonder of tomorrow
A knot to bind together the strings that so delicately hold us here
High off the ground, and low in the sky
My pen is the colours of the wind, and the smell of rotting Autumn leaves
Purple, orange, red green and blue,
My pen is all
It is me and you.
Losing TimeSomebody help me to find my mind
You loved me like never before
But you don't see that we're out of time
I'm closer now than ever before
It's hard to tell what wall I've built
But it just keeps getting higher
No time to think of all the killed
Tolerance won't go any higher
12 - Insanity
Insanity is not cool.
It is cruel, and painful.
Insanity is many things, but not a fad.
Not a style, an era, not even a way of life.
It is beautiful, yet terrible.
Light and Dark.
It is everything and nothing.
But insanity is not cool.
So wipe that stupid look off your face.
No one likes to admit they're crazy.
So stop saying it.
Insanity is self-loathing.
So just stop.
You're not insane, you're just foolish.
You seek attention.
You're not insane.
You just want to be cool.
Insanity is not cool.
Amoris In Cum Morte
She had just begun to wonder if perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to go back, when Death suddenly appeared before her, with His silken tie and crimson cloak.
As He slowly approached her, she couldn't help but think what a distinguished gentleman He must be.
"Hello, Elle," He said, and reached out His hand to her. His fingers were long and thin, and white as snow.
Hesitantly, she took it, and He gently pulled her to her feet.
"How do you know my name?"
Taken aback by the demanding tone in her voice, He thought to Himself, "She is not afraid."
A moment passed, and she asked again, looking at Him with childish impatience.
"I know all names, Little One."
His voice rang through the trees, and suddenly all was silent. The voice was gentle, and soothing. But also sharp, and terrifying. Cold, and beautiful, like the snow that surrounded them.
He smiled at her as a chill ran through her body.
"So fragile..." He thought.
It began to snow as they stood there silently, staring at each other wi
15 - SilenceShadows break into weary thoughts
Light intrudes upon slumber
Painted eyes fall apart over glass
Stained white to hide the sins of our hearts
Piece together what little you have left
We're no human than a Doctor, or Time itself
Stop pretending this is real to you
Stop, because everything is not going to be alright
Don't listen to me anymore, I know as much as you, remember?
Don't tell me your pitiful story - JUST STOP!
And drop to the floor.
1 - IntroductionThey begged and whined, tugging on her sleeves and pulling at her hair.
"Please, Charlie, please tell us one more story!"
Small, cool hands grasped her own. She was still amazed at how tiny and delicate they were, compared to her own large and calloused hands.
The whines and moans of disappointed children floated up, filling the air. Charlie coughed, and sighed heavily.
"What story, loves?"
A cry of joy rose up, and they gathered around her as she took a seat on the floor, their little faces staring up at her in expectation.
One girl's hand shot up with a suggestion, and soon enough, they were climbing over one another, shouting and kicking, begging for their ideas to be heard.
"Alright, alright! Settle down, please!"
Her gentle but stern voice calmed them down, and they were silent as mice.
"Now...Timothy, why don't you pick a story?"
Her eyes locked with those of a lovely boy, four years of age. A deep and beautiful blue gazed back at her, as he br
81 - Pen And PaperSpoken words
Pen meets paper
Hearts beat faster
Blood flows strong
Rain falls gently
Chills run through
Thoughts of you
To all but us
Just ten minutes
Out of time
A cautious glance
Lost a chance
Watch the door
And hope it stays
Like U.V. rays
Pen meets paper
Let People InI used to hate people so much because they're so quick to judge and betray each other. They'll say they're your friends, but then ignore you or shun you when it stops being convenient or fun for them. They use you as much as they can, and when they're done with you they all just disappear. I didn't want to have friends like that, and I thought I didn't need them. I thought that, but it wasn't right at all. I thought I was stronger, rejecting relationships and friends. But once you reject people, you're stuck. You lose the opportunity to make those connections that define your life. And when you've lost those chances, you don't get them back.
I found someone like me to share my pain with. She's still one of the most special people in my life, right up there with my dad.
Whenever you meet that person, don't turn them away.
Up until recently, that's all I've ever done. I've tried to build trusting friendships, romances... and it always comes crashing down around me. Often because of my ow
Morbid FantasiesI played it out in my head, how it would all turn out, and what would happen depending on which method would be used. It's horrible when I run out of creepypasta narrations to listen to on youtube, because then I'm alone with my thoughts. I think about things that make me sad, angry, and hurt. However, this particular thought brought along not just pure hatred, but satisfaction, and admittedly, a dose of fear.
I was invited to join my "family" for thanksgiving by my grandmother. Nice gesture, but she should already know that my roommate has work, and we have a yearly tradition of our own. Besides, I honestly do not enjoy being in the company of my "family," since I never really considered them as such, save for my brother.
But I knew in my heart, that she'd be there. Because they trust her. They would "forget to mention it" to me of course, but I know she'd be there. And I've played the scenario over and over and over in my head.
I vowed to live long enough to watch her d
Mankind likes it brokenMadness slipped inside of me like a hand beneath my blouse—thieving and too truthful—while i find myself in fetals, wondering where Autumn went… crushed beneath someone’s shoes, as i feel crushed beneath these memories?
i’m nobody’s treasure (just a no one in a body), and though this mouth is paralyzed, i scream these words ten fingers, to grasp at everything i’ve lost. But what’s the point? i rise from moondust graves when the sun peaks my head in halos; and i hope, and i pray, that this day is one of life… but every time, i am sent to death in stars and in the shadows of the dark. And i fear i’ll only be disasters, thrown down the stairs ahead of life, while i try to learn to fall in ways that will not break my neck, my arm—my spirit…
but every ‘wild’ needs a ‘broken,’ and i’m afraid He’s beat you to it; mankind just likes it broken.
Ugly.As a young child, new to the world, pure of it's intoxicating fumes, I remember a tree.
Such an ugly tree I remembered it to be.
It stood tall, creeping a good ways above any of the others, but it was disfigured in many ways.
Its branches were thin and fragile, like the bones of a sickly human, they twisted in retched ways that anyone would think should snap them clean off.
It was pale and grey, standing out among its fellow familiars, never to show the beautiful colors that it must have held within.
Its bark was edgy and course, as if it had survived through one of to many harsh winters, never falling from its place.
And I remember, as the others land succumbed to failling, giving themselves up, withering away, that tree never did.
It continued to stand tall, proud and majestic as that ugly tree could possibly seem.
It fought its way through whatever was thrown its way, fought until it could no more, never failing whatever duty it believed it needed to fulfill.
We don’t know what the world has in store for us and what will happen in the future. We can make all of the plans in the world to be happy, successful, or whatever the case may be. However, with that being said, at the end of the day money is only a mirage of temporary happiness and your success in life will not carry over once you have passed. Society seems to lead you into thinking that if you’re not a big businessman, musician, doctor, lawyer, or athlete than you’re not very successful. But today, I saw firsthand that none of it really matters.
Today, I met a woman by the name of Arlene and she has touched me, without saying a word to me. For whatever reason, I felt a connection to a woman I’ve never met before today and I’ve never seen before today. She was a complete and utter stranger, yet…her story (Or lack thereof.) touched me in a way I hope I never forget.
My name is Enrique Rafael Alaniz and this is an account
Since Facebook Isn't AppropriateSince Facebook Isn’t Appropriate
And ‘cause dA is better than Facebook. If we go to your wall, I’m wishing you a happy (Insert number here ‘cause I really can’t specify) day on planet Earth. Actually, give or take a couple of those days because someone thought it was a good idea to randomly add another day. (Or maybe it wasn’t so random, but whatever, humorous effect.) But in all seriousness, if I could, I’d let everyone know how lucky I am to have you in my life and how I only want to be with you. I know we have our ups and our downs, our stale and our spontaneous moments but they’re all moments I wouldn’t give up ‘cause I have probably learned more about myself during these last 262 days than I have during the 5,943 days (Give or take ‘cause again, leap years.) I existed before you.
I hate generic birthday messages ‘cause you’re not a generic lady and I don’t think we’re a g
OJOS DE AGUA
OJOS DE AGUA
TIENES OJOS COMO EL MAR
VERDE COMO LAS ACEITUNAS TAN HERMOSOS QUE NO SE DIFERENCIAR EL COLOR, ME PIERDO EN ELLOS EN UN MAR DE MIRADAS Y PALABRAS IGNORADAS, QUE ME DICES, PREGUNTAME CUALQUIER COSA Y TE DIRE QUE SI, ANDA HAZLO, EN LA CIMA DE LA MONTAÑA VOY CANTANDO MUY FUERTE, SOBRE CUANTO TE QUIERO Y TE ANHELO QUITAR ESOS OJOS, ERES MIA Y DE NADIE MAS, RECUERDALO SIEMPRE, QUE ESOS OJOS LINDOS E INOCENTES NOTE DELATEN YA QUE PODRIA PERDER EL AMOR DE MI VIDA, LO QUE ME HACE EXISTIR, LO QUE ES MI RAZON DE VIVIR-Sara
My HeartYou know you’re truly in love if hearing her name, even if it’s not being referred to her, fills you up with undefinable joy. You know you’re truly in love when you remember how your voice trembled when you called her and read her the letter, asking her to be your girlfriend. You know you’re truly in love if the pure thought of feeling her soft skin on yours makes you shudder with delight. You know you’re truly in love if, she’s not only the first and last thing on your mind every day, but also after every meal, every motion, every book, every song, every breath. You know you’re truly in love when 771 miles isn’t the distance you are away from each other, but rather the amount of roads, bridges, and rivers you’d cross to get to her. You know you’re truly in love if every song you hear you can connect to the overwhelming joy and the infinite sorrow she makes you feel. You know you’re truly in love when you write a story a
A True ArtistA True Artist Is Only Ever Working For Themselves.
They Take The World Around Them And Make It Their Own.
They Do Not Categorize For Others, And Focus Mainly On What Others Want;
Rather, They Take Their Own Wildest Dreams And Fancies, And Turn It Into A Work Of Art.
A True Artist Creates Beauty In The Image Of Their Own Heart And Soul.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More