deviant art

Deviant Login
Buy Art Buy adCast Buy Premium Membership
Shop		  Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour
×
telling a sad story backwards-17.

it smells like grief and sterilized metal.

i climb into andrew’s bed, though the nurses have strictly forbidden it. he closes his eyes and holds me tightly, because he says when he can’t see me, it is easier to pretend i never happened to him.

15.

he pushes the cart aggressively down the aisle, pretending to mow over old ladies doing their sunday shopping.

"stop," i say giggling, lobbing a can of ravioli at him.

for a moment i think he simply didn't see me throw the can; it glances off his chest and falls to the floor, exploding in a pattern of red arrows. i don't notice his eyes rolling back in his head or the graceful wa
Save The Whales"You know what?"

"No, what?"

"We should never fall in love."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, it's simple, really."

"Explain it to me, then."

"We're opposites, you and me. You're the sun, I'm the moon. You are day, I am night. You're warm and you beat with the vitality of life. I'm pretty chilly and I beat my fists against the mirror for showing me reality instead of dreams."

"I still don't quite understand."

"I am a dreamer, and you are a dream."

"Thanks, I guess."

"No, listen--you're like the people who say 'save the whales'. You want to save the world, you want to do some good. You want to make a change, make a difference. And me... well, I'm
voices.are you listening?

one.

the trains are
burning. planes are
crashing, and i can only hope
they're not yours.

tides are coming in,
breaking the shore, carrying
the ground beneath you
away, away with them,
and we can only

watch.

but see that guy over there?
he's laughing.

-

two.

there are voices
inside my head, pulling
at the roots of my hair and
banging on the walls,
begging me, screaming at me:
'please, let me out',
'please hear me, hear me,
hear me.'

-

three.

until they're all i can hear,
until i want to give in and
give up, and they've won, they've
won, until i feel like the ability

to live life fully is a drea
stop ruining autumn.listen:

fall makes me think of leaving and of apple cider, though i never liked apple cider.
but i liked the idea of it.

listen:

two years ago i met a boy as fragile as dead leaves, who called me his little spring girl. (i'd always liked autumn the best.) he kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme.

and oh, by the way, "everything good must come to an end."

listen:

on our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and i drew elephants on them for us to carve. he cut his out so aggressively that it lost its shape.
lopped off tusks and broken trunks became just a large, jagged
Drinking in your voice She had a voice like a cool glass of water in the midst of a dry, hostile desert - refreshing, calm; chilled but not frozen, serene but not languid. The ugliness of her face and figure could almost be forgotten when hearing the stream of speech flow by. She made hideous words ring like ivory bells - not silver. Silver? Too common; anyone can have a silver voice. No, hers was carved of ivory, incandescently glowing. Creamy bone, splashed with drops of shining beauty. I listened to it and was lost.
you can't make them love you.He is beautiful, new, unexplored.  He has wanted to kiss her ever since they met one week ago and fell prey to helpless chemistry.

         “Don’t,” she says, moving her hands in a subconscious “yes” pattern along his arm as he rubs his cheek against hers. “You don’t even know my favourite colour.” The wind cuts through her thin jacket, and his chest is so warm.

         “Red,” he guesses, improbably correct. His ears are cold.

         “And h
insomnia.one a.m.

i couldn't sleep. i was too busy tossing and turning and throwing my pillow at the shadows dancing in my room.

i tried counting sheep, but somehow, one became two became three became fifty became purple became what the hell is wrong with me?

two a.m.

i glanced at my phone and thought about calling you. and then i realized that you're never the one to call me, and that stung, and i decided to count the stains on my ceiling instead.

some idiot set his car alarm off, and the other cars answered, forming an odd sort of melody.

i wanted to answer with a scream of my own, but i forced it to stay in.

three a.m.

sleep was calling my
A Pinpoint Viewlook, they said
     what do you see
you can only have a pinpoint view

----------------------------------------------------------------

I turned the lenses upside down, sometimes it is good to look at things askew :
I saw crumpled paper hanging by a girl's head, she lay on earth suspended, looking
down upon the pages she was tearing from a book ..

Those Other Pages

time sometimes hangs
             upside down.

here we are again, reliving old transcripts
of who said what;

and then there are those 'other conversations'
which run in our heads
The Day My Cat Exploded  Today was the day my cat exploded.

 It wasn't spectacular – it just exploded with a furious carnage across the sitting room. Perhaps I shouldn't have let it bite the wires in the fuse box… The mess itself was uninspiring; the walls would need a good bleach attempt and the couch itself was ruined. I took my coat out of the cupboard and, shifting a stack of unopened bills and other pleasantries from infront of the door, made my way outside to go to my depressingly dreary work.

 The blisteringly cold air of January assaulted my face relentlessly as I did my coat up. Plugging in my headphones, I shuddered as an alarmingly loud
he was always an anxious boyso what
if I'd bring
words to your lips
like
water from the rock
like
a shape
I can't catch
like
time (doesn't matter)

and what
if I was
a breath you mistook
when
once was enough
when
dreams are
dreamt best
when
you (started over)

and then some

"she drifted
'cross continents
and
I
finally
put a pattern
to the things
I'd been (chasing)"
this one's four you three twoher name, if i remember correctly, was laura, melissa and purple.

picture this;

a girl stays far away from the swing, too scared to touch the sky and follow in the footsteps of wax-winged men. her mammy said the branch would give in. her friend crowns the tree with whispered words, and tells the petrified bark never to give up on itself.

they learn how to spell, fumbling fingers holding fat crayons in fists, racing each oh-tee-her, el-ih-ay-ar-ning to-get-her. it doesn't matter to them that they don't get full marks even though "l-e-a-r-anne" and "d-e-c-laura-t-i-o-n" are clearly wrong.

they are four and nothing's stopping them from livin
April Fools
I've been waiting all day.

All day, I've been sitting in front of my TV waiting for the constant war updates to switch to a special report. They will go live to the White House where the President will be sitting at his desk with the same concerned expression he always issues himself.

"My fellow Americans," he will begin, "As you well know, we are currently in the midst of great toil and hardship. It cannot be denied that there have been significant casualties and obstacles facing the course of Operation Iraqi Freedom. But as we forge on, I feel it is necessary to tell you, as well as the entire world…"

"APRIL FOOLS!" Saddam Hussein will s
sticks and stones.broken people like to write poems about how they are broken.
they like to turn people into words because no one's heart
has ever been punctured by parentheses, but by god it's not
for lack of trying. in a poem, broken people can have hangnails
and they never have to brush their hair because the tangles
symbolize the time they lost their virginity and there are no mirrors
unless they write about one and force themselves to look into it.

-

broken people also like to use cliche metaphors
but that is okay because when you are broken
sometimes cliche metaphors are all you have left.

"i am a rose and you think i'm beautiful so you
The EmpressI believe in Gravity,
but not in you.

*

I have seen
the way you let lies float
from your throat, out of your
empty mouth. I have seen

The way your eyes flash, like
a storm in August. I have seen

you take my trust in your hands
and suffocate it, like a baby kitten.
Fate
A sunny day in the park.  There is a single bench CENTRE  stage.  GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench.  He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe.  He is reading a newspaper.  Enter PETER from the RIGHT.   He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie.  He is carrying a paper bag.  PETER sits on the bench next to GOD,  setting his bag next to him.  He folds his hands and admires the weather.

PETER.  Beautiful weather today.
GOD  [focusing on his newspaper].  Mm-hm.
PETER. [Extending his hand] The name's Peter.
GOD  [shaking PETER's hand].  God.

[GOD re
Browse More Like This

More from `tangledweb

Featured in Groups

:icondd-catalogue: :icondaseniors:
×

`tangledweb has limited the viewing of this artwork
to members of the deviantART community only.

You can log in or become a member for FREE!

54,205

1,995 0 10,110
:icontangledweb:

^_^by `tangledweb

DescriptionDetailsShare
2004.

Kitty.
©2004-2013 `tangledweb
Category: Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Short Stories

Details

Stats

Submitted on
June 14, 2004
File Size
9.1 KB
Views
54,205 (1 today)
Favourites
1,995 (who?)
Comments
Disabled
Downloads
10,110 (2 today)
URL
Thumb
Only verified accounts can report policy violations. Please check your email and click on the verification link.
* Required field

Daily Deviation

Given 2006-09-28
The moral of ^_^ by `tangledweb is that the more frequently you use ^_^ or =^_^=, the more you will appear to be an illiterate schmuck. You will not only look uneducated, but you will be fired from your job, lose your girlfriend, and meet an untimely demise with a tractor-trailer. But you will be remembered as l33t. ( Featured by `imperfect )
The owner of this deviation has disabled comments.
©2013 deviantART. All rights reserved
About Us | Contact Us | Developers | Careers | Site Tour | Help & FAQ Advertise | Premium Membership Etiquette | Privacy Policy | Terms of Service | Copyright Policy