deviant art

Deviant Login
Buy Art Buy adCast Buy Premium Membership
Shop		  Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour
[x]
Cinderella
Waiting for a coach
and four
that never came,
she realized
a ball gown
won't bloom
out of sackloth;
glass slippers
are not dependable
and mice
are best left
to their own devices.
Midnight was never a friend,
and under that suit
he is the same as any other
man.
IcarusSun girl,

the whispering stars
& feathered clouds dance
for you tonight.

Do not let anyone
clip your wings;

you were made for the skies.
Red DressDon’t put on your red dress
for he doesn’t know the meaning
he doesn’t want the commitment
he doesn’t care for the color.

The red dress you love to wear
that’s stained from wine and beer
but still carries so much meaning
for who could find a second red dress

Don’t go out on your red dress
for the man who wants nothing more
to screw around and doesn’t understand
the meaning behind a simple red dress.

A red dress for when you dance.
A red dress for when you cry.
A red dress for when you need it.
A red dress for when you care too much.

Don’t put on your red dress for him darling
he doesn&rsqu
Definition of a Writerwrit•er

noun     /rītər/

A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery

They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish

A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own

They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone
i got flowers oncei am lonely.
i received flowers once
and i placed them
in a vase til
the petals all browned
desiccated
and turned to dust
on the glass of my bureau.

i have never gotten flowers since.

i spend my days
with a boy
a man
whom i love far beyond reason
and he holds me in his arms
and holds me together.

i bite my nails
and pull my hair
over the moment when he
inevitably
feels the disenchantment
fall over his body,
all clean lines
and smooth shapes,
and realises that leaving
the worst thing
would be
the best thing.

i am lonely
and even with a hand to hold,
and even with a cloak of security
bunching around my shoulders
and hiding my thighs,
i feel
moonshines in georgiaman on the moon:

giddy with lumps of north georgia seas
greased on the crease of my lips
gravity drips from couch-cavities
when tides belch from below --

burst on the water's edge,
earth's bourbon sailors retch in moonshined ripples
trickled blue murder on their crinkled crimes;
raking water wrinkles like a wayward drunk
stuck on sunken bootleggin' dreams.

it's been a long, long time
since I've drowned your hemisphere
for fishing like a moonraker,
swishing my bait-lines like tobacco's
squished in your shallow gums
before you dare to down my air
breathing in this sincere georgia night.
insomnia to keep you closefalling asleep with the windows
open, with morning curling
around you like a drop of blue
ink in a glass of water,
turquoise and unwritten;

remembering when early dawn
was a secret you kept
in a soft, aortic pocket—

your dead lighter spinning
to the floor of Lake Ontario,
a halo of its bygone, synergetic flame.
Blame The ParentsI won't be able to keep a relationship in the future because I'm scared
I'm scared it'll turn out like theirs

I'm a pacifist because I hate watching it
I hate watching them fight

I have PTSD because of their fights
Their fights almost broke up this family

I self harm because they are pushing me over the edge
I was already close to jumping, but they gave me an extra push

I'm always in my room because that's how I run away
I guess that's called "Like father, like daughter"

I only eat one meal a day because he constantly puts me down
Even though he's joking, I can tell he means every bit of what he says

I can't trust anyone because they do
Asperger's SyndromeAsperger’s Syndrome

This is what makes me different.
It is what makes me both distant and compassionate.
It is what makes me both tired and creative.
It is what makes me both sassy and awkward.
It is what makes me both fairly normal and completely insane at the same time.

This is what makes me amazing.
It is what gives me my talents and achievements.
It is what gives me my intelligence and ideas.
It is what gives me my humor and individuality.
It is what gives me my passion and dedication.

This is what makes me flawed.
It is what makes me confused and anxious.
It is what makes me exhausted and frustrated.
It is what makes me uncertai
Missing piecesMissing pieces

There are wounds
that never heal; silences
so loud they  thunder - I stopped
breathing years ago, that night
the ice took my chest. Since then
I walk  in pieces, howling
around my heart.

-SophieCT, 2012, 2013
L.E.S.B.I.A.N.Living on the
Edge of life
Saving myself
Being who
I truly am
As it is all i can be
Never forget that
field notesi read some poetry
just for the sound--for the words lilting up and down
and the thick, honeysepia
polaroids unmisting in my head.
those are the poems i never understand
and the only conclusion i can draw is:
there is apparently
some supernova poetic awakening that comes
with the loss of virginity
and basically i need to get laid.
MorningA black cat sleeps in a ray of sun
My coffee is lousy
Another cardboard morning
The day isn't a blank canvas
Waiting to be painted
Its already scrawled with
Yesterday's mad crayon drawings

Smoke drifts up and out of the window
I drink the coffee
blood-red wine and skeleton jazz i.
the day you left,
your cobweb dress clung to you in ways
that i would dream about for years,
in hot, fevered nights
when the moon thought it might burst
in the sky,
and even the wind wailed your name.

ii.
i remember how you called make-up war paint,
and you drew it across your face like a message
i could never decipher;
i remember how i got goosebumps when i heard
your heels clicking across the floor at 3am
when you finally got home and slipped into bed;
i remember longing for you with every fiber of my being,
feeling separate from you even when our clothes lay on the floor
and your fingernails dug into my shoulders
and your toes curled
van houten must be godi. you know how in embroidered cloth,
from the bottom under the design,
all you see are knots? her honey-like,
crying
voice lulls me to sleep,
that's what we see of God's plan.
just the knots. when in reality,
it's the design on top;
beautiful and flawless that He
has in store for us.
bullshit.
i learnt that word
when i was three
but every time i said it,
my face hurt and mom's hand fell.
God will put you
in hell.
do you want that?
i knew better than to say it again.
ii. you're an estimated
fallacy, the perfect
misconception.
you don't need to exist
for people to believe.
they make you real with
dancing tongues behind
a crowd
of murmuring lips of
god's will.
iii. of the rain,
i sang songs, whispering
prayers only you
could hear.
if you truly are
what they say for you to be,
then there are no secrets
between you and me.
mother still sings
the same songs
in the rain, hoping
you'll hear her the way
i thought you would.
but she doesn't know you died long ago
with chiv
Browse More Like This
Download File
HTML, 913 bytes more ▶

More from ~Panther-Nora

Cheese
Hard or soft,
Or in between
I come in many guises
But underneath
Basically the same
Despite all my disguises.

Spicy sharp
Or subtle and mild
Or very very bland.
Just milk made thick
By whey removed
And cultures added in.

You may eat me on bread
You may eat me with fruit
I may be sprinkled on your soup
But please pause
And appreciate me
And all the things I do.
Buzy
I'm busy, it's true
But when I've a minute to think, I think of you.

My sigh when I finally go to bed
The first half, true is tired,
But the second half is lonely for you.

I remember what you say about clouds,
But to me they never look painted
When I look at them
For a minute
Before getting back to work.

I feel the touch of the wind and sun,
And it's nice,
But I want your touch.

My fork traces your name on my plate
At dinner.

I shiver into my chilly bed,
and wish you could help keep it warm.

My muscles ache,
but my heart aches more.
It misses you,
And the muscles just have an unoxidized buildup of acid.

In a room
VERSUS   Summer
To stop, and be cradled in the arms of the trees. Lean against one and feel her support.
  VS
They claw at life, desperate to live, to survive one more year, one more day. Lean against one, and feel your energy begin to drain away, sucked up by the tree's enourmous need, it's desperation.
  VS
  Fall
The sensual, full-bodied celebration of season's end. A fiercely friendly competition of hue and vibrancy. Flamboyant laughter and color in a drunken dance across the sky before winter's sleep.
  VS
Defeat. The frost has won and stolen the summer away.
  VS
  Winter
Sleeping – waiting.
  VS
...we will all die...

Featured in Groups:

Not currently featured in any groups.

Details

November 24, 2003
913 bytes
Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 8
Favourites: 0
Views: 63 (0 today)
Downloads: 9 (0 today)
[x]

Fears

:iconpanther-nora:

It’s been a long time
So I guess I was unprepared
When you took my heart by storm
Ran your fingers through my hair
Told me that you loved me
And never would let me go
And I wonder if I can trust you
Though my heart tells me so

As I sit here waiting for you
I wonder if it is true
Or if I’m only dreaming
And in the morning it’ll be through

Please tell me I’m not sleeping
And that you’re really here
Tell me again you love me
And there is nothing to fear
Cause my little pessimistic heart
Tells me this cant be
And that you’re only a part of a dream
That in the morning you wont be
Lying here beside me
Holding me again
Tell me that you love me
Because I love you my friend
:iconpanther-nora:
This is something I wrote while trying to write a short story for a writing class. It's just some of my feelings and how they sort of jumped onto the paper. If you're looking for realy good writing, I dont think this is it.
Add a Comment:
 
Preview   Add Comment
:icondarkfaerie33:
~darkfaerie33 Dec 31, 2003
this is a great peice! i feel like this a lot- like wondering if their love is real n stuff- great job!!! :D
Reply
:iconmelanophrionsa:
*Melanophrionsa Dec 14, 2003
Hm... Love is such a thing to try to understand, no matter how deep into it you go, your always too shallow to bridge the gap, and too far out to reach back to the reason that comes with dry land...
So many doubts and fears, and poetry seems to be an effective way to relax thoes doubts and fears... (HintHint-Da-wont-let-me-submit-poems-fo r-some-reason-no-wonder-im-such-a-wreck. )
Your poem expresses thoes fears and doubts perfectly... (aka its good-)
Reply
:iconbooshnoodle:
~BOOSHNOODLE Dec 13, 2003
.........*sigh*....i sooo remember feeling like that....on a couple of different occasions..


this piece is so good..write more and hurry. :)
Reply
:icontiger-queen:
~tiger-queen Nov 26, 2003
ah that is so gud. it's raw emotion. :)
Reply
:iconchains:
~Chains Nov 24, 2003
I think you might be a little harsh on this poem. It says what you want it to clearly and with emotion.
Reply
:iconkylere:
~kylere Nov 24, 2003
Ahh the doubts of being loved. Nice simple clear clean way of expressing them
Reply
:iconpanther-nora:
~Panther-Nora Nov 24, 2003
Yay!
Reply
:iconramuel:
~Ramuel Nov 24, 2003
Dont worry, I love you.
Yay...?
:explosion:
-ramuel
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