ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
You had a butterfly ribcage,
Standing out, proud and lost.
So I painted you;
Crimson and gold,
Bright and black.
With filigree spreading,
Over battered lungs.
I pulled at each,
Skeletal wing,
Bone and acrylic,
And paper soft skin.
With each little tear,
I ripped from within,
The fluttering wings,
Once trapped in your cage.
So the song bird sings,
All crimson and gold, bright and black.
Mocking each and every one, Of your sins.
Standing out, proud and lost.
So I painted you;
Crimson and gold,
Bright and black.
With filigree spreading,
Over battered lungs.
I pulled at each,
Skeletal wing,
Bone and acrylic,
And paper soft skin.
With each little tear,
I ripped from within,
The fluttering wings,
Once trapped in your cage.
So the song bird sings,
All crimson and gold, bright and black.
Mocking each and every one, Of your sins.
Literature
Igbok
To the girl who's "okay"
With the run-away father
Of the baby she's hiding
With goodwill and shame,
You're not alone.
To the boy who's "okay"
With the bumps and the names
And the scars on his wrist
That still won't go away,
You're not alone.
To the girl who's "okay"
With despising herself
Because she's knows she's not strong enough
To starve anymore,
You're not alone.
To the boy who's "okay"
As the voices grow louder
Because soon he'll give in to them
Without feeli
Literature
Depression
This feeling, it pollutes my very core
Leaving it rotted and tearing apart piece after piece.
It is a black thing, corrupting everything it brushes against
Leaving me in a will drained state.
Depression; a tired rage or sadness
No one has come to understand.
A flash of pain follows every thought of family and friends,
Leaving me with my head in my hands begging for an end.
I have not a single word, not a flick of my tongue;
That can even come close to describing how I feel.
My whole body feels like it is cracking into pieces
Planning to leave me as nothing more than a face smiling in a frame.
I’ve turned all that I loved against m
Literature
Imagine
[Imagine a broken figure selling fake pain killers for unbuilt lives. Imagine that picture roughly translated into bittersweet static; sharp and flashing on and off.]
I'll weaken to self-created tricks
Ticked to pay triggered sounds;
Down to take off.
I'll tremble with the rental winds
That brush up against my skin.
For when I'll lie down at mental, sterile lands -
I'll bury myself here.
[Just give me some sleep; sedate me. I can dream that the effect will wear off like a storm of smoke that's fading.]
The dirt tastes like over powered thoughts.
Locked up on the story that became news
Used to affect something within me.
My anger'
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
You had a butterfly ribcage, I couldn't bare to pull apart.
© 2011 - 2024 blood-red-ribbons
Comments10
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
wow...