Just because....

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Deviation Actions

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I can't seem to write doesn't mean other folks can't. ;)
Take a look-see, people. Maybe even take a few on home with ya to your favorites.




Hubris.today
we're younger
than we're ever gonna
be.

i. and we finally did it,
drove to the mountains
watched meteors
and let the mattress
grow damp
under our love
under the stars
ii. there are things to
be reconciled
iii. my eyes sting like
chlorine, but from
crying,
I finally disappointed
them;
the highest order of shame
iv. but you cannot put
people into pockets;
good, bad
don't mix
with them

v. and I cannot choose
who I love
vi. your lenses are straight,
elite and proud
mine, open and accumulating
filth
vii. maybe
I should run away more often,
we never talk like this
viii. and you have to realise
that I live in a world
that you don't, and you
live in one I
cannot
ix. the respect is there,
but I cannot
be stifled
any longer.
:thumb319081520:
ListlessIn the mild winter months, I laid
beneath the swamp mud, breathing
in pressure and out space.
Reaching equilibrium, I allowed
stillness, the setting in of rot.
Collapsing lungs, I fall
in on myself
so nature abhors me less.
Wonderingin a bed full of empty
     i stare at the ceiling,
wondering when i stopped having any meaning.
     every day is monday,
every hour noon,
     every moment wasted,
tomorrow won't be soon.
     simple questions i want answered,
simple dreams i keep close by,
     when will it be my turn,
not to have to lie?
     who am i to pretend that i don't see the end?
who am i to feel?
     who am i to decide whether or not any of this is real?
am i alone, like i always was?
     or do i have myself to blame?
i walk this life with open arms,
     yet every day is the same.
i wait by the telephone,
     for someone to need me,
for someone to hear my voice,
     yet no one sees, no one listens;
i don't wish for this by choice.

The First Thunder of JuneI could tell from the way
the truck barreled down the road,
how its motor revved and caught on the air,
that a storm was coming.
The dog shook,
his twelve-year hips aching with the effort
of tucking his tail between his legs
in the hope that such displays of submission
would appease the weather.
They did not.
The sky turned feral and spat on the house.
While my old-hound panted
with his panic-wide eyes,
mine filled with awe and lightning.
Moonlight KayakingDrip.
Drip.
Drip.
You kayak in the moonlight
Black sparkling water
Smooth and easy
I dream of you as the liquid
in my IV slowly drips
My fevered imagination speaks to the moon
And is answered in a strange language
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Waves of silence turn slowly
I see you from the shore
Reach out to you
But you're too far away
The swarming stars are friendly
And tell me there'll be another time
For moonlight kayaking
Sing.
Sing.
Sing.
Love overcomes.
Dream.

:thumb276455385: Wilderness PrancingEarly morning silence
cast into chaos,
red-orange horizon
filled with startled birds.
Knees bent
in muddy field,
sweaty fingers
fold over mine.
"Keep 'er steady,"
tobacco breath
and daddy's aftershave,
"try 'er again."
Gunshot echoes,
rifle kicking
into bruised shoulder,
spine knocking daddy's chest.
"Damn it,
girl,
why cain't you get this right?"
Misty eyes
watch deer
prance from daddy's noise,
wishing feet
flew as gracefully
across brown leaves.

Mature Content

internal existenceyes, I sin;
given abound
grace - - -
wait.
longing failed,
sprouting rapture
indecency
fearsome,
am I: taken
by humbly
spoken
I have-
not
fully,
no-never
solidarity,
a blind pressed
still mockery
hear-
devoutly
facing northward
I stammer,
liv-ing,
God.
worth-
self
less
ly-
depravity under
stood, echoes
shameless-
born body,
an eyes sympathy
outside fracture,
burned in summer,
how they see-.
tiding, sea.
compensation,
for the mystery
eluding me.
nuwe are bare in body and nothing else.  
your eyes touch mine, quiet and rare and raw,
perhaps inquisitive.  i like to think i am unknown to you.  
i want you to know me, but there's something about opening
books, opening thoughts and perceptions, that makes everything
easier.  if i keep a pane of glass, thin as film,
between us, then i will be all right.
this glass is unstable, malleable.  it shifts as i do,
becoming new things in silent bursts.  
it is made of my secrets, my hatred, the things
i can keep in my pocket.  it is made of bones
and blood, and some days, my entire body
and its effect, its impact on anything around it,
is merely a defense mechanism that you can see.
but some days i like to think that perhaps you are not fooled.  
you are dauntless, satisfied with yourself and with me.  certain
of what i am, what i would love, what i want.  you, regarding me,
tell me i am strong

Reality TV 5I have not the time, and to be honest, I was immoral from the very beginning.  
There you were, standing glorious and inebriated.  I was ill prepared.
I was a child.
It would seem she lacked organs, substance.
I was without my integrity, so really, what was I supposed to do?
Why even label it as wrong?  I enjoyed it.  I reveled in every short-lived second.
I was a monstrosity, a ghoulish infested fiend.  
I was a wily rat-faced rodent.
I was ugly.
I was free.
CurrentI rummage through the majesty of the mundane,
the water babbling between my fingers,
the creek bed pacing out its portion of river,
holding me back from the cement by a few meters
on either side. I roil the rhythms of earning
and eating, looking up to enjoy the grass by its green
(the unused part of the sun's generosity, the wisdom
it wastes)— or I begin among the haste of buildings,
the people who are wise to the need to forget
those other places, as we count our hungers and toil
our time, and sift our sounds behind our eyes,
and push our bodies past our bodies, trying
to patch together our own ways of believing, while
the water keeps leaving, and the creek bed,
wherever we stand, stands still, ready to hold us
against a moment with more than meaning.

As I inaudibly crumbleThe first thing that I can assure you of is the fortitude of my soul: I am a pact so strong that even the hurricane which caused my house to tear apart couldn't budge me. So strong, that even the earthquake that cracked the face of my school building couldn't chip me. So strong, that no amount of tidal waves could crash and break into my walls, my being. I am a pact made of several precious trinkets, letters and colors bound fervently. My frame has become a watchtower and my spirit, its sentry; I fulfill set duty. I am a pact so strong that I crave for certain commotion over what it is that I am, I wear and bare my vanity. I am a thrill seeker, a bungee jumper. I thrive off adrenaline rushes brought about by the feeling of close calls, the always present possibility of a snapping of the cord, a real potential to, not just fall, but truly crash and burn from grace. I am of a life wanting to be fully fueled, felt and fulfilled. I am a draconian as an experienced freedom fighter.
The last
religiona door might have opened
onto the great void and we might
have held hands and stepped out,
dressed like tigers for the effect
if we hadn't been throwing punches
and excavating black words from our tar pit brains.
so the door stayed closed, we missed
the pristine moment and we never left the living
room that night, never made it to the space
of rational numbers and deathless men
those sunken-eyed spectres with immortality
clutched in bird-bone fingers, clutched
like woman or bottles of brown beer.
I didn't much care, my heart needed
vacuuming and the dogs
would have wrecked the place
if we'd left them alone for eternity
so it was just as well opportunity
passed us by with a wink and a nod,
instead we smoked and swore
and smeared our chins with grease
to prove we were better than napkins,
above expectation, stayed away
from the precipice of your hot breath
along the inside of my thighs
one firm step from the wrong side
of the cosmic jungle, where the tiger babies
learn to hunt and r
:thumb303069606:


p.s.
If I were to host a contest, (of which I have absolutely no details on yet) would you all be interesting in playing along? Or would it be a big ol' waste of time? I'm thinking the big prize, being that I'm broke as a joke, would be a 3-month subscription and at the very least, a feature of the participants. Lemme know, y'all!

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crossing-ariel's avatar
Thanks so much for this, love! :hug: :heart: