Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

Don't Be Fooled

Deviation Actions

LMW-The-Poet

Published: Feb 28, 2015

503 Views

Literature Text

I never knew
How much she loved me,
Until the day
I realized why she wanted
To get me out
Of that ~~dreaded house~~ Hell.

More by LMW-The-Poet

Literature

La fantasma

Es la voz que habla en mi mente, The voice that talks in my head... Se enchansa por mis pensamientos, It expands throughout my thoughts... Siempre sabe lo qué estoy pensado, I always know what she's thinking... I promise you that it is about to get me, No soy la fantasma - soy ella...

Recommended Literature

Literature

Real Estate

The cost of intellectual property has gone up. I can already feel the ideas curdling like milk, Strings of silver silk lining Tangling it up so neatly-- A package for the loan-shark in my bed in the morning. A message to my lover, to whom I owe such a debt: All you ever do anymore is take. My poems crumble at the touch, Fading into the clusters of Sunday brunch and Family Guy reruns. What's the price of the two seconds of quiet Without a pile of unfilled lines awaiting my autograph Ruffling through the papers you'll have me sign- What wouldn't I give to sign with the devil, over you... Teetering on the corner of thought, My pen limp and b

Literature

The Best Me

I want to be a better me Someone who cares more Hates less and embraces happiness I want to feel complete Find the piece I'm missing A smiley face jigsaw puzzle I want to look her in the eyes Without a word know, This is true love Her fingers cheerfully nestled between mine I want you to know The best me, is me with you It's always been you, beautiful

Literature

La caja (algun dia)

Tirada en el patio esta la caja, sin etiquetas ni marcas, una simple caja. Todos pasan, pero nadie mueve a la caja, estática e inerte percibe los pasos, esos pequeños murmullos que la hacen recordar que no está sola y aun así el abismo continua. En todos sus años de caja esta ha estado cerrada, pues ningún hombre ha decidido hacerse cargo de la solitaria caja, la cual carga con su contenido en el exterior; una caja inversa quizás será. No tendremos remedio que contar que esa caja olvidada por todos más presente no podría estar, es el ombligo del mundo. Tras de ella se esconde la línea qu

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

A Robot Love Poem

01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100001 01110010 01101100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100101 01100001 01110010 00100000 01110011 01110111 01100101 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01100101 01110100 01100001 01101100 01101100 01101001 01100011 00100000 01101100 01100001 01100100 01111001 00100000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100

Literature

stormchaser

dear sarah, yesterday I tried to swallow the sun. it burned me up on the inside until even my skin was hot to the touch, and I thought of you. I hope you have found better ways than me to feel lighter. heaven knows there are days where I still trade my feet for concrete blocks and try to sprint to the finish line, but at least I have stopped straying towards the riverbanks. at least I get out of bed. most days, that’s enough. but if you tell me that most days life still feels like a choice you’re making every minute, I will tell you that I understand. I have spent years trying to outrun my sadness, sipping sunlight until my vision blurs and looking up only to realize I’ve been going in circles and calling it progress. every escape I ever made is a town I can never go back to and I’m not better for it. I carry so many graveyards around inside of me, and I’ve lost count of how many bridges I’ve burned because I confused loving with leaving. take my sadness away, I don’t

Literature

girls on a roof.

aphrodite passes the blunt to persephone, says you have to tell me how you did that, how you seduced hades and they sit there on the roof, the stars twinkling. persephone looks youthful in a way that’s untouched, as if she’s somehow eternally seventeen or made of sunshine. i didn’t have to do much, she says. and aphrodite who’s spent years reading gossip mags & articles about “ true love ” thinks about how she saw hades take off his leather jacket & wrap it around persephone’s shoulders, easy as breathing. kissed the side of her head. gave

Literature

TheGouldenWay on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/thegouldenway/art/Wolf-of-the-Woods-Link-in-Description-489304572TheGouldenWay

Literature

Uninvited

The storm that raged outside brought droplets of water that dashed against the glass of an apartment window like liquid bullets. Even as the city outside his apartment bathed under the rain that tumbled from the blackened clouds, a tired young man lay asleep on his sitting room sofa, his stomach rising and falling in an uninterrupted rhythm. His only company, a young woman about his age, lay prone on a large cushion with her head craned over a book. The hour would have passed in silence were it not for his gentle breaths, the distant thunder, and the rustle of the pages she turned as she feasted on the strings of words that gave way t

Literature

Integrity

I’ve never turned down a job. Professional integrity, and all that. But even so, when I saw the name in the file, I cringed. At some point in every man’s career, he gets that job he knows is going to make or break his name. I’d been using this name for a while now, and it had started to get a decent rep behind it. People knew me. Not my face, obviously. I was smart enough to use wigs and contacts; prosthetics, if I had to. A face was too damn valuable, and not so easy to change. Especially if you didn’t go in for all that cosmetic surgery stuff. But names? Names were easy. Names were shoes that you could slip on and

Literature and Poetry

Literature

14. Metal Mettle

I was born with a silver tongue, Copper eyes and a gold heart. A grain of salt in my head and skin of obsidian. The silver has tarnished, But it stays slick with lies told , And untold. And retold. My lips seem bruised and discolored, poisoned by the silver within. The copper has oxidized, Turning blues and greens under the force of the salt water of my tears. And all the strife they have seen. The golden heart starts soft and pure Shining in the sunlight. But it is soft. Malleable All too soon it is dented. And pieces taken. It is better known as Fool's Gold, When it glints in the light to attract another. The grain of salt becomes a pearl that is my brain. Over time it shall mold Rolled within my cavity, an irritant until it is beholden as some fantastic beauty of nature. My skin is obsidian. Beautiful and Smooth Shattering off with any amount of force, Sharply cutting to those that try to touch me wrong. I am a treasure trove, Of precious metals and beautiful things. I may

Literature

Making Jam

Poetry is word jam. Boil down the natural sweetness of words And add the sugar of imagery, alliteration, assonance, allusion, figure of speech, meter, and rhyme to taste.

Literature

All's quiet in the deep

Fanged tendrils of forbidden thoughts Twisting with a purpose Squirming to be said, to be made flesh Calling from beyond the veil Moving slowly in the black still water They whisper Fears and doubts, Clouding the edges my eyes in red haze Tempting me with truths And lies. I cannot speak them The words that fester beneath the blade of my tongue Itch for a voice through which to manifest They pester to be named A venom coursing through my veined and slouching heart Daring my lips to part Stop now, cease. You are in violation. There is nothing to see here, Nothing to say. My jaw must stay still And silent Smiling and clenched Do not say the words Do not hint It is betrayal The thoughts have been waiting there forever Wearing me down, Berating patiently Do not speak of them. Their existence is anathema. I have desires I dare not say, Effervescent dreams I could throw it all away I could jump I could fly That was a metaphor That was a lie Never mind, I take it back, Watch my

Featured in Groups

My friends and I had a bit of a cry fest... I've now heard or have experienced pieces of all their stories. I made them feel better with acceptance and they helped me learn new perspectives... *sigh* I had a great time seeing everyone in one place - it was like old times again. Life was normal again for awhile... It was beautiful. Some things aren't meant to change, and the way my real-life friends and I are is one thing that hasn't (and won't).