ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
There's a word for what I'm feeling
I could be poetic
I could be romantic
I could be dramatic
But I won't
Because this sort of feeling doesn't deserve fancy words
It deserves hard, merciless thoughts
Feelings, opinions, emotions that would make you scream
I look around and I see blurs and blurs
Colors swirling about
I hear noises that eventually dim to a low background hum
Everything is unfocused
Except
The exit sign
I stare at it
No comprehension
I feel nothing
I just look at it
While everything around me breathes with life
It glows
Bolder and bolder it taunts me
Escape it says, escape
But I can't bring myself to move my feet
I can't bring myself to run away
I'm not ready to face the world
I'm not strong enough to leave it
There's a word for what I'm feeling
Empty
I could be poetic
I could be romantic
I could be dramatic
But I won't
Because this sort of feeling doesn't deserve fancy words
It deserves hard, merciless thoughts
Feelings, opinions, emotions that would make you scream
I look around and I see blurs and blurs
Colors swirling about
I hear noises that eventually dim to a low background hum
Everything is unfocused
Except
The exit sign
I stare at it
No comprehension
I feel nothing
I just look at it
While everything around me breathes with life
It glows
Bolder and bolder it taunts me
Escape it says, escape
But I can't bring myself to move my feet
I can't bring myself to run away
I'm not ready to face the world
I'm not strong enough to leave it
There's a word for what I'm feeling
Empty
Literature
butterflied
it is a snake
coiled in my stomach,
the urge to vomit
everything inside of me, to purge
all the toxic not-
good-enoughs. to retell
the same story and expect
a different ending is
the dysfunction that landed
us in here. I'm sorry
I don't follow you into
your dreams at night. I'm sorry
my smile is not the moon,
I'm sorry I did anything
to make you notice
me at all. no finger
down the throat could ever
take that
away.
Literature
true affection
i. sometimes she felt like a coin,
old, rusty,
flung down a well and
sinking to the bottom, surrounded,
but unable to touch.
and while she was looking at lights
she didn’t know were turned on, a
blue bird laid an egg on her
pillow,
and when it hatched it was just
sunshine-colored seawater.
ii. he was a pair of earbuds,
tangled,
stuffed in a pocket and left to be
washed out, lost
on a train station bench, waiting.
he felt like a crooked picture frame
no one bothered fixing,
a burned-out lightbulb
on the back porch that
never gets changed.
Literature
Distances
There's a little girl made of glass with
Purgatory eyes. She
Can't seem to remember where
She's misplaced all those lovely words.
The mockingbirds and stellar jays, they
Cry out, "Little one,
You can't even recall the color of your
Chrysanthemums.
You've sharks' teeth in your blood and
Sewing pins in between your collarbones-
What do you know of
This world, anyhow?
Perhaps you are simply
Always asleep."
They watch her; she trades butterflies and
Midnight love letters for the
Ability to look without seeing anything.
She gives them one of her ribs
Every afternoon; they can
Use them much better
Than she ever will.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
I had a little awakening of some sort today
© 2012 - 2024 unusedEmotion
Comments24
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I'm speechless