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Deviant for 9 Years
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Olive Skinned Dream :iconshelovesyellow:shelovesyellow 1 1
Madly Spinning World
The world spins madly ‘round
Continents divide
“A Swiftly Tilting Planet”¹
From swiftly taken lives
The world ‘round madly spins
Beneath a weary eye
An immensity of blue
Swallows anguish with the tides
The world ‘round spins madly
Hope nearly a flight
Chaos rips her wings
While humanity collides
The madly world spins ‘round
Insanity rings true
Here lies Daughter Peace
Mangled, bloody limbs askew
The world spins madly ‘round
Ours, yours and mine
A momentary pause
Will fix it all in time
:iconshelovesyellow:shelovesyellow 0 0
A Thousand Times
She felt it before he even looked up at her.
It crawled through her skin like a thousand tiny beetles; thirsty, rushing to gorge on the sweet nectar that seeped from the core of her being. The nectar was for him, for those long, elegant hands that used to spiral softly down her breasts to the warm, pulsing threshold promising danger and beauty. It had always been for him, since that first day he swallowed her with his deep, inky eyes. His eyes had smiled a brilliant smile in her direction that abruptly pulled her into a swirl of laughing, loving, giving.
They had loved. Yes, he had loved her desperately once. He’d whisper this secret to the stars as they writhed and quaked underneath the night sky. Those nights, she was enchanted by the way the moonlight seemed to caress his skin and send small beams of silver radiance through his fingertips. As he kissed her skin, he’d tell her the secrets of the world; promise her the vast unknown while he trembled inside her. A sig
:iconshelovesyellow:shelovesyellow 0 1

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why didn't you say goodbye?
Love wasn’t in the air the night you unbuttoned my shirt and kissed my skin. No, love definitely wasn’t in the air the night we spent in heat of moments, sweating and tumbling and fumbling on your father’s bed.
It was anywhere but there. Does love go on vacation? I ponder and make fleshy butterflies from my outstretched fingers. Probably.
I can’t remember much but I can remember the beginning. The burn of acid bleeding and gushing past my tongue and down my throat. The noises and then your silence. The clumsiness and then the awkward kisses.
You had a garden of dark hair growing from your scalp and dirt eyes. You had a protruding belly button and clown feet. You smelt like my grandfather in his coffin.
You didn’t ask me if you could take my virginity. You just assumed I wouldn’t mind giving it to you. I always wonder where you put it, if you take good care of it and how it is doing. I imagine you put it in a shiny jar with a sticky label reading ‘Lore
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the fluttered- a collection
Hear my joints dislocate, coming apart at the notion of sunlight. It falls and it settles in pictures of loveliness, golden tree branches and hints of leaves; of autumn, of spring.
I am so tall in the water. My legs are never-ending, crooked lines of peachskin- watching my fingers draw out ripples until they strain and buckle and fall into the cool. I’ll touch my toes and loop my figure and I’ll make giant ripples, abhorring fallen leaves and sending shivers of blue through his legs.
It’s a faded crimson red holding my breasts, tugging my hips and leaving my ribcage bare to the current. It’s smudged lipstick and smeared blood to him; it’s the soft of petals and the heat of summer to me.
With dirt up my thighs and crushed flowers beneath my elbows we sat in echoes of bark; lit with the little light the leaves could spare. We were a picture. We were lovers in the dirt, near the stream, soft nothing above and heaviness beneath us.
It came tumbling down by my
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you make me sick. you make my stomach fold in on itself and press out against the lining of my flesh. you put lumps in my throat and you tie strings to my tear glands and tug until the world is just a panoply of blurred lines, hazy colour and bokeh.
you made me do this.  you put the knife in my fingers and you told me to tear, you said you would care if i hurt myself like this. you said you’d care if i opened my flesh up for you like a gift of blood and flesh and tissue. but you never really did.
i like being small, i like being the blue eyed girl sitting amidst background noise, rubber band arms holding the necks of her legs together. i like being the blue eyed girl with hands holding her from spilling in a mess at everyone’s toes. i like it when they’re your hands.
i try to define you with mental disorders. i say you have schizophrenia and pretend it’s a valid excuse. i’m in love with one of your personalities, but the other doesn’t even notice
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Artist | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Jax
Favourite genre of music: Nothing specific.
Favourite cartoon character: Thumbelina


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Add a Comment:
joeyddizon Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2009
thanks a lot for the +watch :D
Sethyas Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2009   Writer
you still around?
shelovesyellow Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2010   Writer
Yes :)
Rinmaru Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2008  Professional Digital Artist
TY ^^
dayanmari Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2008  Hobbyist Artist
=) thanks for the fave.. see you here in DA =)
Sethyas Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2008   Writer
you and i made our deviant arts the same day >.>
shelovesyellow Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2008   Writer
That's because we're particularly special :P
Sethyas Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2008   Writer
hahahahah, yes,.. we are,.... tell you the truth.. i had the same problem you did,.. with the deviations,.. if you look,.. my first 5 are all in scraps,... >.>


so did you figure it out?
Reenigrl Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2008  Student General Artist
thanx for the watch :D
KittMouri Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2008
Thanks a lot for the :+fav: :)
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