ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
The world could never comprehend
how much your love means to me
how every ounce of your being
makes my heart race everyday.
The world could never understand
the love I have for you
how you soul helps me cope
and even when the world falls
and the sky burns with flames
I'd still be here.
And you could never know
how one caress of touch
sets me on an eternity of ecstasy
just from one word from your mouth
to my skin.
You're my galaxy
and even with your black holes
I'd rather be sucked into that darkness
and feel your warmth
then to have never felt it at all.
how much your love means to me
how every ounce of your being
makes my heart race everyday.
The world could never understand
the love I have for you
how you soul helps me cope
and even when the world falls
and the sky burns with flames
I'd still be here.
And you could never know
how one caress of touch
sets me on an eternity of ecstasy
just from one word from your mouth
to my skin.
You're my galaxy
and even with your black holes
I'd rather be sucked into that darkness
and feel your warmth
then to have never felt it at all.
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
Literature
Angstxiety
I am work weak on Wednesday
in a heap of hangover and hesitation
with fingers on a phone haptically
actively anticipating feedback—
I need that why do I need that.
My angst and anxiety
is constant and courses
and throbs with a pulse
that demands concern
of a baby boomer crooning poetic
in the distance to call me antisocial, or you know,
you could just call me.
If being this busy in an age
of constant communication
feels like having slept
but not feeling rested,
I'd rather cancel my plans
like a responsible millennial
and go to bed.
Literature
more
never was a dreamer
i'd just sleep till morning came
the sun rising too slow
myself rising too slow
as i fell out of bed
but something changed
and last night i dreamed
that i was something more than
me.
Suggested Collections
© 2015 - 2024 MysticDeviant
Comments2
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In