ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I'd rather be the girl
waking you up
with coffee
on a Sunday morning,
than keeping you up
with vodka
on a Saturday night
waking you up
with coffee
on a Sunday morning,
than keeping you up
with vodka
on a Saturday night
Literature
a girl at the airport
when she eats cake
she presses a napkin
to her lips with each bite--
frosting smears are impolite
murderers of good,
faraway first impressions.
when she sees someone
beautiful, she hides her face
behind a book, book shelf, closed door
like a pious man hides his eyes
from god.
when she has something
important to say among a crowd
she utters it like the bah
of a vulnerable lamb--
a fragile thing, a hesitant mantra
to be drowned and consumed
without thought or care by the sound
of louder others.
when she falls in love
she looks around
to make sure no one saw
and when someone sees
she refuses to believe
their eyes tried to catch
hers.
Literature
poem for the girl who told me life was meaningless
every winter, it freezes so unforgivingly
that i can never believe that next spring
there will be flowers bursting from the soil.
but i know you don’t care
about that. you want footprints in
stone, but all your shores are filled only with
sand and i understand why you said what you said but
i know a man who drove trucks in Vietnam
and now drives a bus full of children to school
every morning. don’t tell me that doesn’t mean
anything, not when i’ve seen the way his hands
grip the steering wheel, knuckles white tight.
not when he carries pictures of his grandkids in his
wallet, like dog tags around his neck.
we have
Literature
sunday girl
i watch you shuffle through the kitchen
and i can feel my fingers softening
and my mind crashing but there are so many
things i want to scream at you, like:
how on earth did you learn to love me
when there are continents forming between my ankles,
when i'm stuck in the middle of a road and there's
a car coming right for me and i just stand and wait,
and how on earth could anyone
have so many freckles between their shoulder blades and
why is it that when you nestle your stupid head into
the spaces between my ribs all i can say is
that your hair smells like September 25th, 2012,
or how your eyes look like pages of an atlas
and that i want
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
I hope I can be this for you. I hope I can be this for myself.
Inspired by a work of prose by Nikita Gill: untamedunwanted.tumblr.com/pos…
Tumblr- boomingdreams.tumblr.com/
Hope you all are having lovely weeks!
Inspired by a work of prose by Nikita Gill: untamedunwanted.tumblr.com/pos…
Tumblr- boomingdreams.tumblr.com/
Hope you all are having lovely weeks!
© 2015 - 2024 Tangled-Tales
Comments39
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Yaaaaaaaaaaas!