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It's About Time. :iconchar-kisses-lotte:char-kisses-lotte 1 3
Literature
Silver Linings
When something breaks, fill in all the cracks with molten gold, and place it on a mantel
Take winter’s chill and pour it into cocktail glasses
Teach children to wish on tear drops as well as eyelashes
Marvel at all the colours in a bruised sky, it is never just grey
Lie awake at night and listen to the birds confusedly sing to the city lights
When you can’t decide what to wear, play dress up like when you were 3 with dungarees and shoes 5 sizes too big
Remember there is a rainbow hiding in every ray of sunlight
Don’t run for shelter whenever it rains, there was once a time when nothing delighted you as much as a puddle
Stand still on bustling city streets just to remind yourself you can
Don’t apologise to people with flowers, ask to meet them in a garden; emersion will always be more healing than a vase
Listen to songs you don’t like but never learnt the words to
Surprising others is satisfying, but surprising yourself is better
Walk along the cracks in th
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Literature
Sleeping Beauty
The breeze drifts in across the drained swimming pool and ripples along the cracks of its tiled walls.
the after effect is noticed enough for shivers to form but doesn't linger into my toes
i sit there waiting for something to happen
for the tension to ebb away or perhaps for it to forget me
it doesn't of course,
and i hear the tick tock of the revolving hands that push me through the next set of open door ways
and close with a bullet prove pane behind me.
silently gliding shut as i watch it all with hot fingers pressed flat against its view. i wonder if it will ever feel the way it has,
the way it does now...
I'm scared it can't.
Thats the thing about breezes; easy to drift onto but not so easy to catch or stop.
i keep waiting now, keep counting and wringing my hands
and forgetting to do the normal things like tidy up or sit with people because detachment does that to you
stretching the stitches your mother gave you that hold you to her;
that thread they call a bond and the needle you
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Literature
The Forget-Me-Not Opportunity.
I want that sky with its clouds scraped back
And cherry trees that keep blossom a while longer.
I want notes that break free of bars when played, and voices that break you out of reality.
I want days of sunshine for longer than two weeks, and not just in a strange place.
I want daisies in my hair, and for love letters to be written by hand, not in ink described by pixels.
I want essays about colour to be in colour.
I want late night drunken phone calls, and sweet nothings to be caught in pages not whispers, so that I can keep them forever…
And for “forever” to not sound churlish or girlish or remotely beyond possible.
I want nothing to seem unreachable; not you, or my dreams, or (god-forbid) the combination of the two.
I want to walk streets where people greet each other like they used to.
I want memories to make me laugh even when I know that is all they can ever be.
I want to get drunk without the morning reflection that greets me with two aspirins and a nau
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Literature
If I Were Human.
If I were human I'd be made in heaven
If I were an animal I’d be made in Africa
If I were a bird I’d be made in the sky
If I were tomorrow I’d be made in today
If I were yesterday I’d be made in memories
If I were love I’d be made in his eyes
If I were summer I’d be made in flame
If I were a dancer I’d be made in music
And if I were to die; I’d be made in life.
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Literature
Seduction's violence
There is a violence to seduction.
The temptation of lips the colour of blood, and pupils that draw him in like black-holes.
There’s something irresistible about the dig of nails in your back, when you are pressed chest to chest,
A suffocation when intertwined in a rhythm you built with him.
Passion is the strongest though; it is love at its most physical.
Passion is the grip with which he pulls your body back into his. It erodes all fear of exploration or exposure.
It leaves nothing but the explosive desire to know all his crevices, and for him to know all of yours.
But love…
Love does not care for herself; she is unflinching nerves, uncoiling spines, and locked eyes.
Love is seduction’s permission.
She may begin as lust, but allow a mouth the colour of a rose – the same rose whose thorn will prick flesh to bleed the same shade – to place a kiss upon his skin and deepened breath, know it shall not stop.
Least,
not until the break of a newly risen sun shri
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Literature
Peeling Crimson.
Today I drove and almost hit the back of a bus on my way to a friend’s house.
We laughed at the time, but my heart felt like it would beat out of my chest and all I could see was red – the windscreen filled in seconds with the peeling crimson of its London paintwork.
We arrived, and I parked as if the road was a playground and the neighbours were bedridden.
We left the half abandoned car and baked lasagne from a pot and told ourselves it was cooking because nothing delighted us more than the faked success we built in an oven we didn’t own.
We talked about her childhood, she answered with restrained memories and a guard that wasn’t sure whether it should relax or stand. Considering her dreams was planned, but considering her memories was not something she had predicted.
I had.
I knew that the sleep deprived girl, whom I adore, would realise that her dreams were not to be controlled.
Perhaps that’s why she cannot sleep the way we do. Her memories are darker
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Literature
The night walker.
I like walking alone at night
Having a thousand imagined conversations
Five hundred of them with you.
I like feeling like I’m running away
And that I’m only ok because I’m doing it this slowly;
Because anything faster terrifies me.
At night the woods are alive. Every inch makes a sound,
Be it in creaking branches or an owl's evening greeting, the sounds multiply
The dark is never silent. Not in cities, nor in wastelands
It waits in shades of midnight and forgotten sunlight
And lingers on the edge of yesterday and tomorrow’s blade.
If there is not a bruised sky, but a starred ocean above then it feels as if the air is harder to catch
If it rains I count the drops that shatter in a single puddle
That sink and melt into its whole, only to expand it by a droplet’s span
so tiny and yet I know it has fallen further through the sky that night than I have walked in my entire nineteen years.
When I get lost in the inky blackness I feel no fear.
I know there is noth
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Literature
Patterns of young wasted minds
Patterns of young wasted minds
Spinning days and ruptured lies
With no word of tomorrow and no space in today
Time has been twisted and whittled away.
Butterfly wings plucked from the sky to go in museums to teach children why
Humanity is older and wiser than that; the freedom of flying without looking back.
But we did look behind us to the dark childhood mess, and the bed-sheets sodden with shame and distress
You remember the fear and horror as well, so you shut back the cover and then you do tell
Me to take it and hide it away, destroy it or keep it, just know that today
You’re not ready to go it alone; to go back and remember the ashes of “home”.
So I took the book, the photos within, out into the woods and found a place to begin
Digging and digging into the roots, praying that burying it would be all it took
To restore your smile, that safety net, the one I need and could never regret
For I could love you and bury your past, every day and forever if it meant you c
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Literature
Dream Ink
So this is the stuff that dreams are drawn in
Fairy-tale ink and the sun-drenched morning
The caterpillar’s wings and the lunar curve
The child’s discovery of its brand new earth
It’s the bubbling over of champagne glasses
The genius work of the unknown artist
The breaking down of fallen leaves
The blossom grown from forgotten seeds
It’s the rush of jumping off the swing
The song that always makes you sing
The morning coffee that you get free
The perks of modern day loyalty
But more than this, it’s simple bliss;
The “every-day”, the “good night” kiss
The running water in the tap
Your mobile phone and favourite app
The cloudless sky, that movie scene
The one you thought was from a dream
The memory that makes you smile
The friend you see once in a while
So should you find you’re feeling down
I recommend you look around
For in every crevice sun can seep
Into every crack of every street.
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Literature
Far Far Away
And when you miss that person, that one person who you let in, who you held hands with, feeling your blood and theirs flow as one between your two bodies and fingertips, well you just, you ache.
You ache so deeply, in crevasses you didn't know you had, in spinning plug holed thoughts and shaking limbs that they are no longer there to steady.
You cannot fathom it, for when it hits you, you can never be prepared, never understand it, but strangest of all you won't mind it.
You won't mind the agony, the splitting sensation, the hollow and the ache, because the only thing you know, the only thing you understand is that you feel this because you (or part of you) did, does, and always will love them.
But most of all you don't mind because the memories of yesterday and the hope of tomorrow let you know that part of them (or their all) did love, loves, and will always love you back. And that is what makes the torture that is missing them 'okay'.
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Literature
Evaporating Armor
I am inside-out
Peeled back
Trembling vulnerability
My blood pumping through raised veins
My pupils huge and lost.
My palms I've read for you
I couldn't see you in them
My sight went panic black.
Can you see me now?
I've scrubbed my face clean for you
Removed my powder-room war paint
You've seen my eyes without their gild;
their smudged seduction gone.
Please see that I am bare for you,
my bones and breath exposed.
For you I am pulling apart the clothes that shield my flesh
removing my shoes to leave footprints for seconds on cold floors
willing you to remember each before they evaporate like my armour.
So here I am, held together by my skin alone.
Please let this be enough, this body and this mind.
Please don't let me fall apart in front of you.
Promise you'll rebuild me if I do.
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Literature
The Kiss that Discovered Sin
These fingers danced down skin
This kiss discovered sin
These thighs were taught to coil
These ripples taught to spoil
This pulse was made to rise
This spine was caused to writhe
This desire was made to pierce
This passion ever fierce
This hold is stuck like glue
This want is just for you
This fear is pushed away
This force pulls another day
These nails dig and scratch
These arms have met their match
These eyes have lusted long
These nerves have felt it strong
These jeans have held their cling
This flesh has found its zing
This kiss has kept its bite
This fire has grown in might
These hands have found their grip
This heart you taught to skip.
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Literature
The Pocket that Knows No Time
We can go and find a place
That the world forgot
And we can forget to remember too
If we ever leave
We can see the sky here
Feel every nerve ending
The electricity in blood
The bliss of being
My eyes can see through your shell here
Pierce the metallic barrier
Revealing moonlit pain
I'll seal fresh wounds with kisses
The night scrapes the ground here
The boundary blurs
No one else can see this;
This pocket that knows no time
The sirens sound here from the depths
They draw breath and us with it
They are this place
The desires we cannot say out-loud
Can we stay here?
Bury our secrets in the sand
Dive to the depths of eternity
And stand with our heads held high.
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Literature
Pouring Suns
Bottled thunder
And silenced screams
Shattered memories
Fractured dreams
Pouring suns
And molten hearts
The quiet dawn
The quaking dark
Widened eyes
And horrors seen
Captured freedom
Ashen leaves
Crushing fear
Held fast in arms
Ending ends
Their bleeding scars
Cracked lips
And broken panes
We shall run
Till terror wanes.
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Literature
Silver
Colour me in
Paint the sky blue
Watch out for rainbows
There's black in them too.
I've searched for the silver
Gone into the clouds
Haunted the angels
Who say it cannot be found.
I'd ride bareback on horses
For miles I would go
But their shoes are all broken
And why I don't know.
Walk on the pavement
Don't step on the cracks
Our foundations would crumble
With no turning back.
I'd delve for hours
Search high and low
To find that rare clover
To the end I would go.
The stars scratched the sky
Bright light across black
I'd wish forever
If it meant I get you back.
As I stare at the glass
Guess I found the lining
It's trapped by the pane
Reflective and shining.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
For me to win, why must you fall?
To free the silver you must crack
Take seven years, not give them back.
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Literature
The Closet
The monsters aren't in the closet.
The monsters are outside.
When we grew up we realized
That in there's where we should hide.
They chased us in here with their knives
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They point and say, "Beware the closet!
Monsters are inside!"
I hear them talk about "my kind"
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How could I ask for more?
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and stalk me in my dreams.
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some nights I like to tear my veins out, individually
like flower tendrils waiting to bloom and
string them up in the sun I never got to see;
violet memories, severe and sharp around the edges
like the day her eyes clouded over. blooming
purple, precious thing, nurtured by her inability to say no;
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Hibernation
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ich liebe dich
daylight wakes me up and i turn into the green moth on the windshield.
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air and listen to the fabrication of your words, your lies like lists of things
you wanted me to hear, essays crafted to the palaces of my mind.
you knew what i wanted because you know the architecture of so many women—
not seeing my poisonous nature, the blisteringly sweet aftertaste that crumples
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Unfurling layers, dark and beautiful
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Blushing in the shady beds of East and West
All summer long they’ll stop and stare
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Activity


deviantID

char-kisses-lotte
charlotte
United Kingdom
have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?
  • Listening to: the script
  • Reading: your thoughts
  • Watching: it fall to the ground
  • Playing: silently

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:iconintricately-ordinary:
intricately-ordinary Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
thank you so much for the fave! :iconlovepowerplz:
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:iconjiali:
JiaLi Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2012
Thank you xxx
deviantART muro drawing Comment Drawing
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:iconjiali:
JiaLi Featured By Owner May 27, 2012
thanks for the favourite babes :heart: :heart: :glomp:
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:iconlookeme:
lookeme Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
thank ye for that fave :)
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:iconlittlefishpenguin95:
LittleFishPenguin95 Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks so much for the fav! :huggle:
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:iconravenwritingclaw:
ravenwritingclaw Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2012  Professional Writer
Thanks for the :+fav: :glomp:
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:iconesther-duraes:
esTHer-duraes Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Hi! :wave:

Thank you so much for adding me to your watch list! :heart: I'm so glad you like my artwork :)

Thank you! :blowkiss:
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:iconawakenasleep:
awakenasleep Featured By Owner Dec 31, 2008
thanks 4 the fave!! have a good year!!
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:iconjin-tze:
jin-tze Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2008
Hi, thanks a lot for the fav :)
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:iconsnghigurashi:
snghigurashi Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2008  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thanks for the fav!:glomp:
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