|These words are my heart.|
wildflowers in Septemberour gardens will growwildflowers in September by neonsquiggle
with or without us.
The way we tend to beToday, I learnedThe way we tend to be by neonsquiggle
that grief is the highest form of surrender.
I am still learning how to sleep.
but I know the words to every Frank Turner song now,
and I wear them on my shirtsleeves
everywhere I go.
I know that recovery is a long time coming,
but it can't hurt to hope for scar tissue
on more than just skin.
I suppose this is what getting better looks like -
a quiet, fading ache.
reading so many words aloud and wondering
if you are still amenable
to being my friend.
spelling out my own name and
remembering how it feels
to just breathe.
every art page I follow lately
has been telling me
that it's okay to be lonely.
and maybe that works, too.
but recovery has been a long time coming
and I am still terrified of September.
but perhaps there is hope still
for the wayward hurricanes.
perhaps we are all orchards,
still learning how to bloom.
and perhaps the sunlight has been so heavy
if only to teach us
how to bear the weight
don't worry, darling -
this is nothing so empty as
every star is an empty light housethey say saltwater cures anything:every star is an empty light house by neonsquiggle
or the sea.
if you were here, you'd say
we were never sick, we were just
maybe all broken things can be made new again,
put back together with a miracle -
or the sea.
maybe all lost things come home,
and all you need to do is hope.
call out in semaphore.
stand on the pier 'til they make anchor.
come back to the empty lighthouse.
name a star after them
and make a wish.
kneel on the wet sand
maybe all it takes is an ocean song.
maybe nobody has tried hard enough.
or the sea.
stories only keep you immortal for so longsomewhere on the other sidestories only keep you immortal for so long by neonsquiggle
of a town shaped like
a midnight cliche,
you are dying:
it has been so many months
since I last mouthed your name.
I have been dead since August, darling,
but on the sandbars of my memory
we are seventeen forever,
drunk on sloppy kisses
and spoken-word poetry,
throwing around our dreams
like they're fists
and humming the theme song to Rocky,
promising paper cranes for every landed punch
and writing love letters
to the bruises of tomorrow.
we reached our meridian
on a Tuesday,
falling gently into ruin
like statues underwater,
held together with nothing
but a silence heavy as a cannonball -
and even the windstorms we weathered
would leave us only shaken,
we were far too comfortable
in the bedrock,
pressed upon each other,
praying to turn into diamonds
in the morning;
we were fossils, you and me,
the negatives in the film,
the ghosts of u
|These words are my heart.|
apostasybefore he led me like a lambapostasy by moondrums
to the altar,
he got me drunk.
take this and eat, he said,
hands on my hipbones,
soft thighs, soft sigh
for this is my body -
but he gave me no bread, only
bruises, and he gave me
new thorns for my head
and i bled
till sunday morning.
who speaks of resurrection?
are you there,
will easter come?
it's impossible to make me change my mindhe is my black knight,it's impossible to make me change my mind by ithaswhatitisnt
my symphonic remedy -
a coin flip of a man
his 'been there, done that'
more than a match
for my 'consistently
p u l l e d
he is tranquility,
lulling me when
nothing else can
his laugh has
the universe in stitches
and i won't let him go
album artphotography reliesalbum art by lizilicious
on learning to see
the same thing from
and knowing how to
to paint real life.
your eyes are honey-
colored in the sunlight.
and your eyelashes
remind me of paintbrush
bristles, renewing your
vision with every
vertical stroke: i
have learned this
rhythm before, from
heartbeats and cursor
strange ways of passing,
when i’m around you.
your laughter breaks
up your breathing into
stacatto blips - and
your skin turns into
shades of crimson- these
fits have ways of
in their decrescendos.
and your palms make
lightshows out of the
nerves underneath my
skin when your hand
envelops mine- these
ridges want to memorize
the negatives of yours
and imprint these
images with permanence.
i want to make each day
a new canvas to immortalize
our music, love. i want
to learn the art of capture
to keep these snapshots
until they turn the color
of your eyes in the sunlight.
narcissus.daffodil boy—these meadows have alwaysnarcissus. by ohellohara
been yours, ever since you drowned
in that platinum pool and the stars
filled your nostrils: you are
galaxies upon galaxies of light and wonder
and when this planet collapses upon itself
in licks of fire and hatred, you will
sprout wings of justice on those bony ankles
and do the work that the gods intended
|Lovely works of art made by lovely, lovely people.|
all too easy,
forgetting your name,
tasting the starlight tucked
behind someone else's
wisdom teeth ;
our soju-laced smiles
crashing at 90mph
and the memory of you
in the headlights and
wreckage of us,
our 2am laughter
echoing in your bones
from 5654 miles away ;
my hands knowing
the age-old roads
that led to brand new places,
and the faded map of you
folded and kept hastily
in my back pocket.
(I was far too proud
to ask for directions
to come home)
chaos theoryI soaked your butterflies in vodka,
and buried them alive.
I planted yellow daisies in the 20-proof dirt
and waited for the sunshine
to make us all
Sometimes when the winds are angry where you are,
I think of your butterflies and wonder
if we're all still fighting to get out.
If they ever named a hurricane after me
I would call you up just to say
I told you so.
things you should've told me.1. You're going to be okay., a longer version of
2. I haven't forgiven myself yet, but I'm getting there.
3. You can't make homes out of people. You can't make poems out of them, either.
4. Whatever you want to believe, you should know you made me happy.
5. You were always beautiful, even though I never said it aloud.
6. Writing about you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
7. Tucked between my lungs is a memory of the day you first smiled at me.
8. It's funny when you realise that I'm an atheist, and goodbye used to mean God be with ye.
9. I don't know the words for the way I felt when you first called me handsome.
10. Sometimes I started fights just to see if I could make you leave.
11. I stopped loving you somewhere in between the third drink and the fourth.
12. I went home that night and I couldn't remember your face.
13. I never read your letters - it would have been too sad.
14. Boys should be allowed to cry in public, too.
15. I wasn't built to handle forevers.
16. I can't listen
couragethe day I realised, and of course, the title work,
I may never taste your mouth again,
I threw myself
into the first cigarette I could find,
sputtering through the smoke
and greedily inhaling my death wish.
today, my hands smell like nicotine
and lighter fluid ;
and I wonder, if you were aching
would you still let them hold you?
isn’t always sacrifice -
sometimes it’s just alcohol,
or far too much loneliness,
or far too little.
I could have loved you forever,
if you’d been brave enough to let me.
Polaris is Dead.windbound,) as well as a bunch of brand-new, completely unpublished (and probably will never be dA-published) poems! It's not free, but then good art rarely is (and I need to make a living somehow, too). Plus, Leanpub has this nifty feature where it shows you how much I earn, and lets you decide (with a built-in minimum) how much you want to pay for the book. So if you're feeling generous, you can drag that slider all the way to 10! I haven't been super active lately (big surprise) but I've been dealing with school as well as working on some new poems because I figured I needed to gain some traction and write a new book as soon as I could. I'm also in the middle of figuring out the plot of a graphic novel that I want to write and illustrate myself, so that's taking up a considerable amount of time (partially because I also need to learn to draw for shit). All in all, very hectic schedule, but please understand that I do care very much about the art on here and the support you all have shown over the years. The link to the book is over here leanpub.com/polarisisdead . So please go show it some love, and even if you can't buy it, or aren't sure if you want to buy it, it would really mean so much to me if you could talk about it and try to gain it some attention! Every little bit helps. Thanks so much again, you all are lovely. Also, I used far too many parentheses in this journal, whoops.
we were caught and cornered,
underneath the weight
of rocks and hard places
that tore us all but
in this and every maelstrom
we were just waiting
holding hands like they were
and locking palms in prayer ;
we knew an introduction
to the edge of our little world was
and said our goodbyes
every time the ocean's belly
swelled with Neptune's angry squall,
our mouths filled with salt and
all the breathlessness that came
with keeping a weather eye
on that horizon.
you were the light of my life -
every smile a star
and every star a sentinel,
keeping us from keeling over
or charting courses
hellward bound ;
that angel stern,
on every map and
on every midnight journey,
and making sure
we always knew
which way was north,
or a new world,
the storms got the best of us,
our little ship stricken
from bow to stern,
from mizzenmast to bowline,
How long have you been on DeviantArt? - Around 5 years or so!
What does your username mean? - You know those gummy worms from Trolli? I love those. I could eat 'em all day. UwU
Describe yourself in three words. - Passionate. Loyal. Moody.
Are you left or right handed? - I'm right-handed!
What was your first deviation? - Oh, lord no. I don't even remember. Actually, I do. I think it was a song or rhyming poem of some kind and I know I used ellipsis and I am so glad that I've come so far and my soul cringes too much to talk about it any more. *shudder*
What is your favourite type of art to create? - Literature that speaks from the heart.
If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be? - OH MY GOD WATERCOLOR PAINTING. YES. ALL THE WATERCOLORS. YES.
What was your first favourite? - This one! I still love it.
What type of art do you tend to favourite the most? - Literature, because I spend most of my time visiting literature-filled galleries.
Who is your all-time favourite deviant artist? - My best friend, lizilicious UwU
If you could meet anyone on DeviantArt in person, who would it be? - Everyone who's followed me from my first year and continued to support me. I love you all, always.
How has a fellow deviant impacted your life? - A lot of people have given me quite constructive comments on what techniques I should use or given me suggestions to lovely works of art that have made my heart grow. dA always continues to inspire and impact my life, and therefore my art.
What are your preferred tools to create art? - Pen and ink! Or, screen and keyboard.
What is the most inspirational place for you to create art? - My bedroom, in the dead of the night. With a nutella sandwich on a saucer beside me and Coldplay blasting into my ears.
What is your favourite DeviantArt memory? - The first time I ever got a Daily Deviation. It was for Up and Apart I wasn't even expecting it, I swear. I was so happy and so shocked and so grateful. I still am. I will always be. Thank you for everything, deviantArt!