ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
There was a Korean refugee
standing outside
of my window that night.
He held no weapon but the dark stars in his eye against me and I knew
he was a pulchritude
sent from some sky to curse me.
I could have turned him in,
even had him killed but I let him stay for dinner in the living room
of my chest and the hollows of my head.
That boy was gone the next day
but I swear I still saw his foot prints
burned into a patch of grass
in the front lawn and every night when I looked up to the sky
I felt as though I was going
to be struck down by his armed eye, twinkling and born against me.
standing outside
of my window that night.
He held no weapon but the dark stars in his eye against me and I knew
he was a pulchritude
sent from some sky to curse me.
I could have turned him in,
even had him killed but I let him stay for dinner in the living room
of my chest and the hollows of my head.
That boy was gone the next day
but I swear I still saw his foot prints
burned into a patch of grass
in the front lawn and every night when I looked up to the sky
I felt as though I was going
to be struck down by his armed eye, twinkling and born against me.
Literature
L over
Time passes and I still end up saying your name, when I told myself I wouldn’t let it slip out of my lips.
Memories are still clear as ever, painfully so, although they’re starting to merge into one colossal dream that managed to become a nightmare in a matter of seconds.
I wonder if you wonder, the way I wonder.
I wonder if this is just a writers mind.
Lost, confused, scared, hurt, sad, lament, pain, excuses, replaying, broken, worthless.
–– These are just some of the words that come to mind, when I think of our final chapter. They taste rancid in my mouth, and I spit them out on days I remember our story.
Your f
Literature
he saved me
, but he killed me.
_
i. first light- i met you in a crimson forest.
it was a rose garden summer, and out of a black mercedes
you walked out, your five year old eyes greener than
sunlit saplings
you reached up to pluck a rose from its stem, and offered it to me.
"what's your name?"
daddy told me that i couldn't tell strangers my real name.
I looked at the rose in my hand.
"Rose."
you smiled, you were a seastorm of now long-gone innocence.
i didn't understand
but I knew.
ii. i forgot about you for
1562 days, 11 hours, and 22 minutes,
you shouted
my name, but i didn't recognize you
until i saw your
Literature
Storm Ravaged Hope
Petals are a scatter
Across rain torn grass,
Vines caressing leaves
Fallen from bare trees
To the right, the garden
Holds a scene of crush -
Remains of rose petals
Create a scene of red
Shimmering beneath
Lightning strikes
One blood red petal fallen
For every death occurred
In this unknown village
But there in the midst
Lies a rose of black,
Drenched in sorrow
From its very tip
To the loose roots
Remained in the soil
A few darkened petals
To remember our losses,
But a living death
Meant for true hope
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
I think there exists a powerful magic in the way everything in the universe connects.
© 2015 - 2024 TheStoyTeller
Comments3
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
There is no magic and yet there are many things magical.
I think the Universe is one living thing. Without even a single god of any description, but godly in its careless powers to make and unmake constantly as each part dies and becomes something else. Even the rocks live.
I think the Universe is one living thing. Without even a single god of any description, but godly in its careless powers to make and unmake constantly as each part dies and becomes something else. Even the rocks live.