Newest
Love is irrelevant.I've written a dozen poems like this they make me feel sick, they clench my ribs searching for the words to match.Love is irrelevant.
I start them same, the kindness in your hipbones, your heart swelling in my gut, the swallowing of each other with water or a cold drink. Not to be chewed.
I continue with the distance, drinking wine from a plastic bottles and clutching a telephone on Rue de Foch. You talk to me for while and hang up, you cycle around Canada for hours,
searching for something that may or may not be me and I wait by the phone, by the keyboard, clicking my mouse
by ~inmyroom
if onlyhey you, it has been a while since you pushed your face against my chest and told it things like i don't love you anymore.if only
it's been a long while since you thrusted up towards somebody else and opened your heart towards him.
it's been a long while since i told you something new, something you knew, something so obvious, you could have held me, you could have kissed my nipple and clinged to my ribs you could have climbed into my clavicles and sat there forever, all foetal like.
you could have been safe.
by ~inmyroom
When Sarah left.We did not speak in volumes, we had quiet mouths that were infant-likeWhen Sarah left.
in their crawl towards the matching loudspeakers we made from plastic cups.
It was a year ago today. It was
a hot day and I sat on a Union Jack, clasping ski goggles and suntan lotion
like they could save me from things that grow
and swell inside
or things that make you ashamed to be in love or things that make you blinder the sadder you get. I sat as two men spoke of a man named Clive. He would come and reuse bricks and bits of bones to rebuild the wall
we kicked d
by ~inmyroom
Another statisticToday I went to work. I smiled while I asked for extra time for my exams, what I really meant was extra time for my heartAnother statistic
It is malignant, you see, and lately it's been telling me stories that swell
and will result in death.
Stories of when I fell in love with a narcoleptic girl,
in a pub where we clung to psalms and souls like I was about to move to the other side of the world and pray with my chest
tucked safely into calendars.
Stories that would unfold when I got on a plane all foetus-like and frightened, stories like this,
of secre
by ~inmyroom
Random Favourites
For You - 21Come on Baby, and undress my skin, like a parasitic lover, slip your hand right under and make my muscles dance. Your finger nails are tiny ticks.For You - 21
The dawn comes and I simmer coffin dreams, the light oddly warming my windshield blind, I wretch another night of loving you too much without touch.
The pendulum swings. The paradigm is cemented like a bad mob knock-off; these things all drown in the subtle rhythm of primordial soup.
Either way, I live with the itch and ritualistic bleeding.
Leach on
by *vespera
Reasons Why I Will Never+Reasons Why I Will Never
Because it does not matter - eventually, a woman will be listening to me talking about love and lust and the way
my husband and I used to curl into each other as if we were eggs. The woman will like this, touch her facial bones lightly.
Thunder will rise on her cheeks like embarrassment or love. And at that moment,
there is a motorcycle driving slowly onto her driveway and she will not hear it because I am saying, "love is craving
that muscle to be worked over like dough," and this man is breaking the glass
by `queenhrosie
ON GRIEF+ON GRIEF
Elizabeth jars the persimmons with salt. She screws the cap. Her nostrils open. Close. Open, like a dog stretching after a long day. Or, wings. Elizabeth's husband is also pretending that nothing happened. That they did not go to the doctor's office. That their baby wasn't dead. That their baby's head never formed in the way babies heads form, quickly and then the shoulders sprout. The shoulders seem to grow so quickly in photographs as though babies are quick to know there are things in this life that will weigh them d
by `queenhrosie
engracedby ~flappability
Twittering! 
PridedeviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: university in yorkshire
- Interests: I am interesting
- Favourite movie: Little Miss Sunshine
- Favourite band or musician: , Trouble over Tokyo, Kate Rusby, Sufjan Stevens, Feist, Bright eyes, Death Cab, Snow Patrol
- Favourite artist: painty paint paint
- Favourite photographer: *briefrespite
- Shell of choice: she sells sea shells on the sea shore.
- Favourite game: peek-a-boo
- Favourite cartoon character: The Little Mermaid
- Personal Quote: You must be having a giraffe
- Tools of the Trade: Microsoft Works Word Processor, Photoshop CS, PaintShop Pro 7 and Fuji S5600
- Website: http://corinneinfrance.blogspot.com/
- Email: inmyroom@hotmail.co.uk
- AIM: don't aim that thing at me
- MSN: inmyroom@hotmail.co.uk
- Yahoo: ding ding.
deviantART Community Board
Webcam
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
--
Don't look ahead, just run to me
Each step will find the next one, recklessly
We'll find ourselves on the safest ledge
Well pardon me, I couldn't help myself
-- Copeland - On the Safest Ledge --
*Letters-Words-Write ~writeaway
--
...be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger...
a lot.
--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.--
< primus>I just can't get enough sausage in my mouth, no
[link]
--
It seems a fantastic paradox, but it is nevertheless a most important truth, that no architecture can be truly noble which is not imperfect.
(:
--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.kit.
--
my face
kitskids.com
kitskids market
mythicnorms market
--
Support Literature! *The-Novelist-Club *Adopt-A-Writer *Prose-R-Us *WordCount *writersunknown *getLIT *litNEWS
Previous Page12345...Next Page