deviant art

Deviant Login
Buy ArtBuy T-Shirts & Gear Buy adCast Buy Premium Membership
Shop		  Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour
[x]
Origami DependenceWe've paved our relationship with molten brick;
then tied our fingers against thunderstruck trees
while prudent street dogs spat selfish lyrics
and served lightly-salted soliloquies.

I cried starshine into your emerald arms,
so you could become the meaningful whisper I'll never hear.
I fell for faithless, plastic charms
in rooms that smelled like smoke, white oak and beer.

Our hearts became rocket ships tied to ribbons,
one crawling on an overstuffed belly; always too far behind
like the sons and daughters of Elias Fitzgibbons
who said we would wed us on Tuesday, that holy bind.

Wicked felt-tipped pens, forging "I love yous."
wer
Gondwana and LaurasiaI am Pangaea;
you are gravity and tectonics
(but not entirely the push and pull
of the force that assembled me).

You pulled me apart for all
the world to see and
all the scientists to marvel at.

I no longer resemble the beginning.

All you have to remember
me by is a hypothetical map
of a conjectural being.

You have pulled my limbs apart,
stretched me far across the ocean
so that I'll never be
quite the same.

I was an island.
I was Pangaea.

I am whole
and I am pieces that don't
quite match but still fit,
like sawed off arms of
jigsaw pieces.

You are whole.
I was the compass directing you
to my last-chance moment or
c
EchoesShe echoes inside.

Her loneliness leaving her barren and cold,
Her fingertips so bloodied and broken.
She had tried to climb out,
But to no avail.
Her love lay on the earth beside her,
As her tears,
Echoed.

Her eyes are chiseled out stars,
trails of gold carve into green;
wobbly curses splatter the walls
She tries to get out,
She tries to get out.
"Don't leave me," he says
as whispers
Echo.

Trickling water resounds around them,
Its pattering going slower, and slower,
Pounding deep within her.
Her eyes, like chocolate melt with tears,
And as they flow she is immersed in nothingness.
Darkness is her friend,
Her weakness,
The Tails of Falling StarsShe was awestruck by the backs of moons that were
too far away to see with her unaided ocean eyes;
her petal fingers lace around the necks of stars.

Tracing their distant narrative, she becomes
an oracle, picking at Castor and Pollux;
the innards of sacrificial lamb becoming
the threshold of her prophetic quasar.

Always in search for the answers
that remain as churning syllables,
rotting at the bottom of her myrtle lungs.

She harvests the tree-branch limbs of galaxies,
to appraise the fruits of fate;
calculating the depths of nebulae, nuances of flesh.
She remembers how she grew to fear space.
Fractured WingsI bandaged my wings in discarded cocoons,
and pasted sparrow feathers on my arms,
in hopes they would last until the dawn

Fallen angels don't have to work too hard
To break down your hopes or to
tear off your useless wings
After you were done with the surgery
After I've stitched myself together

I knew I'd never be the same again,
as hand-sewn angels who tumble
trying to grasp at the sunrise,
don't have very long to live

I never meant to fall apart
Or tear you down with me
There's no more darkness in the light
No more time left to fight
It's time to say goodbye
This Conversation Took Eons "I can control you," he said, gravitational fingers lurching into my bouldered skin and pulling bits of me away.

I made it rain that day and killed three thousand and forty six people, just because I could.

"What is wrong with you?" his voice sank as the waters became weighted with people. He pulled the tides higher and washed the visible pain into the form of debris.

"They'll never forget though," I used the stars to point out my flaws and my current disaster, "because they're dead."

"Why do you do that?"

"What's wrong with me?" I asked innocently, stirring up another hurricane with my pinky.

It was all some sort of amusement to
because you're now.I want you to know that I think about you sometimes. You're like my escape plan that I keep in the back of my mind. The one that I start to find more and more appealing each time I think about it. And occasionally I think about what it would be like to be yours.

I am unable to understand why I am the way I am, or why you have the ability to make anyone smile. But that's just how it is.

I think that if you were to put your hand between the sheet and the mattress on my bed, you would find all the slips of paper with the pink and purple ink. They're all the wishes I've made and all the bad dreams I wish I never had. Sometimes I wish I was sorr
Thunderstruck SkullsMy spine twists like peeled bamboo;
I am strong but not strong enough
when you come with serrated words
and lion-paws to maul my back.

Look at me, for the love
of God look at me, you say
But I don't believe in God.
How dare you utter love
and God in one breath.

I hate how your laugh echoes against my lips
because that is how you make me watch.
I cry as your fingers drip over her cheek;
iwishicouldbeher.iwasher.idon'twanttobeher.

You're telling her bedtime stories now
and all the while I inhale word for word
dissolving into a ghost and wishing
I was back underneath your skin.

Your raccoon pores and two-day-old cigarette smoke,
Pinky Promising Orion's Belt "They are butterflies with their wingspans sawed in half and I want to join them in holy matrimony. Or not so holy matrimony, since I've always tired from plexiglass lectures given by those past-their-prime ministers. I expect those butterflies to lead me to the edge of the world, granted I have a map, but half-wingspan-butterflies get you there quicker. At least that's what he told me."

"What are you talking about Sarah?" she propped herself on grass kissed elbows and glared at my forehead, "I think you ramble too much."

"It'd be a good place to visit, Charlotte."

"You're right I'm sorry."

She paused to spread her threadbare arms al
Edible EscapadesTiger stripes
are blossoming
beneath his skin;
eyes painted moss,
and layered with
backsides of leaves.
Hands slathered mahogany
slink beneath
a film of twigs,
grappling his despondent
don't fight, flight mechanism.

Following
the path of forgotten
painted-on footprints.
Eyes,
replaced with
leaves and
dirt colored
warpaint.
This is not what I envisioned.

Inaudible commands
braid together
on nets of spider-silk,
while wading through
a wave of lianas.

When silent screams
are not
louder than
our whispered cries.
We hide,
still unable
to see
or be
seen.

We're connected
by elastic bands;
tied about
our wrists.
The Tails of Falling StarsShe was awestruck by the backs of moons that were
too far away to see with her unaided ocean eyes;
her petal fingers lace around the necks of stars.

Tracing their distant narrative, she becomes
an oracle, picking at Castor and Pollux;
the innards of sacrificial lamb becoming
the threshold of her prophetic quasar.

Always in search for the answers
that remain as churning syllables,
rotting at the bottom of her myrtle lungs.

She harvests the tree-branch limbs of galaxies,
to appraise the fruits of fate;
calculating the depths of nebulae, nuances of flesh.
She remembers how she grew to fear space.
Burgundy Hearts + Glass LungsMy fingertips are pressed against the inky folds of your sky
but you were colorless when I met you.
Troubled moons become hung over
on the pot-bellied lies you once condoned.
We watched it rise over the skies;
you painted in deep glasses of burgundy.

Once I asked you,
"Why burgundy?"
and you answered with a rare smile and,
"Because it reminds me of you."
And then I wondered why I
should be reminded of.

Sometimes you would look at me
and smile one of those quirky
you-don't-know-what-I'm-thinking
smiles
and I would return the glance
and reply with a
I-love-you-forever-and-a-day
and-I-wish-you-love-me-too
smile.

We took the
Telling the TruthI'll tell you the
truth. I only loved
you so I would
have something to write
about. I let you
rip out my lungs
so my pencil would
have a reason to
fly across the paper.
I'll tell you the
truth. My writers block
is worse than ever,
and all I get
done is missing you.
So, meet me at
the hospital parking lot.
I'll ask for my
lungs back. And I'll
tell you about the
time I broke my
heart. Just so I
would have something to
write about. I'm begging,
I'm fucking begging you.
I Dont Dot My I's With Hearts Loving you is like trying to accept the taste of aftershave in your mouth when you accidentally take a swig of it instead of the hidden vodka.

You manage to choke back the tears as it slides down your throat, fingers groping the sink while you debate to dial 911 or take a few more sips. The vine-like liquid has only begun to initiate contact with the part of your brain that says itmightbetoolate. Your eyes stagger to the bottle you had wanted to drain a moment ago--it was empty anyways. Fuck.

Fear gets the better of you as your newborn legs manage to ground themselves in front of your cellphone and your fingers dance across the keypad. Yo
Browse More Like This
Download File
HTML, 872 bytes more ▶

More from ~seussical-love

TwilightHis grin was languid as
their legs stayed intertwined and
the rain poured by coffinfuls
from clouds that stayed stronger
than the sun.

Her lips were pink, blush,
gold inlaid on their irises
in the gray dawn--
her hero had finally come
home, away from selfish
plots that would never give up
their dead.
FairI danced once with the sun and moon
on the mountains overlooking Santa Fe.

The peaks were cruel and jabbed into God's
eyes, and He wept, creating the mist
that laid over the valley.

Wind and rain sang me to sleep
as they caressed sidewalk and
asphalt, streetwise lullabies, night anthems.

But the boy who plays the piano
in the gold-overlaid hotel lobby
down the avenue?

He can't compare to this world.
Meltingthe palace thaws like a diamond
in the heart of god, runs crystal clear
into the snow below--heat is an
enemy not fought with mere swords
or banished by the hands of zephyr
Dragonyou've been lost in sand and pages
a presence fading like ink but
sometimes i see glints in full clouds
or deep below in murky depths
and really, i still believe
Felicitysome nights she'll go out
the balcony of her apartment
and play her cello under an nyc
moon--and once even under
a ufo that shone dully as death
Year's EveOn the night it becomes slightly
okay to be drunk in the streets
and confetti tumbles like little
souls--will God hear me then?

Featured in Groups:

Not currently featured in any groups.

Details

August 9, 2009
872 bytes
Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 28
Favourites: 35 [who?]


Views: 867 (0 today)
Downloads: 31 (0 today)
[x]

Origami Dependence

:iconseussical-love:

We've paved our relationship with molten brick;
then tied our fingers against thunderstruck trees
while prudent street dogs spat selfish lyrics
and served lightly-salted soliloquies.

I cried starshine into your emerald arms,
so you could become the meaningful whisper I'll never hear.
I fell for faithless, plastic charms
in rooms that smelled like smoke, white oak and beer.

Our hearts became rocket ships tied to ribbons,
one crawling on an overstuffed belly; always too far behind
like the sons and daughters of Elias Fitzgibbons
who said we would wed us on Tuesday, that holy bind.

Wicked felt-tipped pens, forging "I love yous."
were like deadswept petals of blueish hues.
:iconseussical-love:
Written 8/9/09 as a collaboration with the infamous *IrrevocableFate, who is a complete total joymaker in all ways. <3

So if you fave/comment this one, please visit her and fave/comment hers when she puts it up. (:

EDIT: Behold! [link]
Add a Comment:
 
Preview   Add Comment
love 3 3 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconpassionsinsanity:
~PassionsInsanity Jun 23, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
Ivejustmetyouandialreadyknowiloveyou.yourockmysocks,yourefrigginawesome.thankyou.

Consider me blessed to stumbled upon people that know ways withs words like you. Consider me a fan. Definitely.

:heart:
Reply
:iconcjheery:
~cjheery Mar 19, 2010  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Nothing cliche about this one. Beautifully done.
Reply
:iconyashaswi:
Mood: Love !Yashaswi Mar 16, 2010
That was beautiful!
Reply
:iconsound-dispute:
~sound-dispute Mar 13, 2010  Student Writer
i love the way the rhyming goes in this :D excellent!
Reply
:iconreanimated4now:
~Reanimated4now Dec 12, 2009  Professional General Artist
mm I love this

I cried starshine into your emerald arms,
so you could become the meaningful whisper I'll never hear
Reply
:iconseussical-love:
~seussical-love Dec 12, 2009
While I thank you very much for the compliment, I'll have you know that my dear *IrrevocableFate penned that couplet. (:
Reply
:iconreanimated4now:
~Reanimated4now Dec 13, 2009  Professional General Artist
fear not I has told her verrmuch teh same thing ;d
Reply
:iconaero5mith:
~aero5mith Sep 22, 2009
This is beautifully written!
I love your play on realistic words in unrealistic situations to represent realistic instances in life! You're poetry makes my brain excited! :la:
Reply
:iconseussical-love:
~seussical-love Sep 22, 2009
:dummy:

I'm glad!
Reply
:iconnataliexcupcake:
!nataliexcupcake Sep 19, 2009
This is beautiful! i love the last stanza. :love:
Reply
Add a Comment:
 
Preview   Add Comment
©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