[x]

the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav

we are not a fairytalewe are not a fairytale.

I am not the strong lead with a heart of fire,
bones of steel, and eyes of vapid curiosity;
motivation seeping through
my every last intended action because
I was written this way

(the heroine falls only to rise again:
proverbial phoenix, burning out
because it is the cycle of my
life) and you, you are not

the beautiful travesty, perfectly composed
to strike me where I’m weak and
[almost]human, delicately woven
like the tapestry of my dismantling—
a subtle irony where somewhere, a writer
chuckles softly, understanding

we are blinder than church mice, born
in a makeshift world of darkness where
I&rsquo

Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
loneliness.

the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.

SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free

Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?

FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.

Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.

I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.

Through the ages
Iron
Bronze
silver, gold and heroic.

I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.

But

no God am I

Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire

Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this

A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit

Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain

Prelude       Nocturne;
I conjure the moon
as dusk crests,
       a wave across the sky

       I am lovely and lonely in
       the night, shadow-
       shackled to the mountainside

and the moths
unfurl their hamsa-wings as
mama calls me in.

bookworm“there is no such thing
as reading too much.”
that is what I tell you
when you insist

that there is some danger of
becoming lost in the stuff—
mistaking seriphs for serpents,

swallowing a story so whole
that its hook
sticks in my throat.

“there is no such thing
as reading too much”
I tell you, bold-faced,
surrounded by snakes
with a line through my lip.

HorsepowerHorsepower

There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Contemplate
Reiterate
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly

-Cygam7

nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
feversongs,
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
their lullabyes.
they sneak so quiet, and
somehow,
you can't quite
dream
anymore.

Here and There, Now and ThenBurnt umber dawn, swaying electric trees
Thousands of souls chant in the summer wind
Journals of the dead are read by schoolchildren
They awake shaking someone else's dreams from their heads

Static electricity on the nape of your neck
In the television, on your phone, in your dinner
The calling of a murder of crows from the trees
You remember the view from the hospital room window

A smorgasbord of life and limb, death and decay
The antiseptic smell has an undercoating of rot and dirt
Talismans won't work any more than prayers and candles
Soldiers still fight lost wars, glory in the faded night

Tall fences are built to keep the worlds separ

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?

The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.
I don't understand, what is going on...

Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?

I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min

A Night By the FireNo light,
The light sired by the night
All above whilst the day's delights
Now disappears from mortal sight.

Faded away is the sun's power,
Taking the stage now is night's sallow flower;
Now mortals may behold the stars and falling shower.

Set in a pit Nature's skyscraper ablaze
And revel in the emanating heat as you gaze,
Looking down on occasion when you hear a crack from the fire
And witness "fireflies" flying away from mother's blaze;
Dying shortly after but not lacking burning beauty do they desire!

I look out towards the teasing shore
And meditate as we sit upon her door,
Thinking on what my future has in store;
Who I am now and even

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lifei just cannot shake that horrible feeling
that this life is all a sham,
and that god sits upon a golden seat,
laughing as we muddle along with such mundane problems as

terminated electricity or freezing pipes or home repairs or
even the bigger things like redirecting rivers and
what the next step is as we guzzle up an ever-dwindling supply of
expiring fossil fuels.

he sits up there and laughs at all of us, smoking from
tobacco tamped into a pipe, i imagine, staring down at his majestic creation
that was supposedly formed from harried fingertips
in six days? or was it eight? i'm no expert on the bible, but
i do think i know this much -

this

When a Mind Fracturesthe burden of wisdom;
the counterpoint of no return;
[i like to bleed on your dress]
one soul short of redemption?
it's not like it used to be;

something gone to
necessary fear in
twenty five places at once;

silken silence;
[say it, i will listen]
you can't stop a bullet
as tomorrow turns to gray
with lessons we do not learn;

because words aren't that loud
i tried to learn body language (once)
but eyes are spherical mirrors -
windows into the mind.

PeaceI
have warped
beneath the
sunlight; silent
nightmares steam off my charred and twisted skin.

The vast, velvet sunset is salvation;
It balms the world
with gentle
caress;
peace.

A Day in the LifeI stumbled through a hurried morning routine
and raced off with ungrateful snarls swirling around my ankles;

Panicked in a dusty corner
and wondered when things ever morph from nightmares into mere memories;

Escaped onto the ice-slicked pavement
and hoped that the wind would whip me forward and not side first into tree branches [again];

Arrived in a place cluttered with hatching dreams
and asked if fruition actually fills one with a sense of satisfaction
[I may never know];

Ended my day with a barbequed chicken wing and judgmental commentary
and wondered to myself why relaxing always has to cost approximately thirteen dolllars.

WhenI
ate my
breakfast and
stopped to ponder
when aspirations had stilled to daydreams.

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[x]

Freewrite

by ~valkvick, Jan 16, 2013, 8:17:24 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I am not sure how to do this
I do not really like to write my thoughts down anymore
because I do not enjoy looking into my mind and having
to listen to all the noise
my head is always too loud
too chaotic too crazy too dysfunctional
I am not doing this right because I am
too focused on saying something interesting or
profound or what people will think when they read this;
these people are all real poets and good poets
and I feel like I am just playing along and pretending to be good
while I scramble through my brain to try to invent
something beautiful or unique or clever or even
just something that perfectly describes the ordinary
but maybe I am too ordinary to pull it off – I have always
had aspirations and dreams that were too big for my budget
or too big for my talents or too big for my family (what is a family,
anyway? I'm not always sure I come from one, is that why I break
my new one over and over?) or just too big to ever accomplish
and it hurts
it hurts to fail and sure there were reasons
everybody's always got reasons but it's hard
because reasons tremble on the edge of excuse
and I am oh so good at excuses let me tell you
I am so tired of excuses but I guess I had
my reasons for failing but it still hurts just as much

I had to turn the page of my notebook and it's
broken my train of thought
are my thoughts really that fragile? one page turn
and bam, what was I trying to say again?
story of my life, really
I was onto something with that parenthetical comment about family
but I can't seem to get back to it -
it is always safest to just smile and nod,
say family is great and always there and them just move on anyway
I feel that this could go on forever
but
the things I really thought I would talk about
just won't come out
maybe that's true for everyone, I don't know -
there are a lot of things I find too hard to talk about

I used to think that only destroyed me
but I am oh so wrong about that.
There are so many things that stay locked inside
of me and I know it's not fair but I just
can't help it -

but trust is the greatest gift you can give.
does mean I'm selfish?
(probably.)

Freewriteby ~valkvick

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Hmm. Rather therapeutic, I must say. So glad I stumbled upon this way of writing. Glory Be!

I got the idea from this wonderful example: [link] written by the quite awesome

.

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~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

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~~neutral 0 0~~

!travelgirlxx Jan 19, 2013

I had to turn the page of my notebook and it's
broken my train of thought
are my thoughts really that fragile? one page turn
and bam, what was I trying to say again?
story of my life, really

Yes. This is perfect.

~valkvick Jan 19, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Awe thank you.

!travelgirlxx Jan 20, 2013

`vespera Jan 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

brave

~ryka-the-fallen Jan 17, 2013

the thoughts you express in this freewrite are familiar to me. letting words flow onto paper without overthinking them can indeed be therapeutic :3

~valkvick Jan 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Indeed. Thank you so much for the favorite.

*edge-of-psychosis Jan 17, 2013 Student Writer

_{Bravo!
I love what you got here!
Isn't it therapeutic??}

~valkvick Jan 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

And thank you so much for the favorite. I'm surprised anybody favorited something that's just random from inside of my head, lol...but I'm hardly ever this honest. I always have this feeling that if I'm truly honest about what I think, people will just stare at me like I'm crazy and never speak to me again.

*edge-of-psychosis Jan 18, 2013 Student Writer

_{Hahahaha. Most everyone feels that way about themselves. I used to be terrified to share my work, but deviantART helped me a ton with that.This is a really positive environment and almost everybody here on dA is very kind and encouraging.
And it's no prob Freewrites are fascinating to read.
[If you ever feel like yours is weird and random, just give mine another read-through, it's totally wacked. Haha.]}

~valkvick Jan 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Omg yes.

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