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rose-colored glasses The wind was icy, bitter cold. But she rolled the window down anyway, turning up her collar to the air and wrapping her clear blue scarf, taken from the dirty streets of Paris, tighter around her neck. She reached into her glovebox and pulled out a beat-up red and white pack of cloves and matchbox. When she opened the pack, a wave of spicy sweetness filled the car - myrrh-like in its heaviness. Placing a clove in her freezing lips, her cold fingers pulled out a match, and in one smooth move, dragged it across the box with a quiet growl and it came to light, a solitary flame in the dark night. Cupped irose-colored glasses
by ~jessfiness
anyone you know?the sway in their walk the smirk in their smile the curve of their wrist and arch in their backanyone you know?
they avert their coy little eyes lean in with a lasting smile drop ideas of interest to remember and a scent never to forget
with Lolita as their model
and Salomé their guide they see the world through a seductive gaze and leave an adder in their wake
are they innocent in their weavings? or are they conscious of their trappings? do I despise them
or do I long to be a Magdalene at heart?
by ~jessfiness
happinessit’s warm chai on a cold day the smoke of cloves on a park bench his smile and his laugh a hug from a favorite friendhappiness
it’s a day without harsh words embarrassed laughter, loneliness, or the harsh sun beating down on your back
it’s an unexpected message a returned greeting solitude the cooling sand of the beach at sunset
it’s knowing exactly what to say the perfect song soft sheets surprise kisses the touch of his hand
it’s driving a winding road at twilight
freedom
by ~jessfiness
drowningplease rescue me the liquid weight of my insanity is dragging me down, down through the reality in which I am founddrowning
I can't breathe, I can't see the darkness is velvety-thick soft to the touch and addictingly sweet as it seeps in my mind, my body, my soul filling the absence, the empty hole
and I scream burning my lungs tearing my hair claws of madness scraping the air
and it's silent, achingly so the cry that rips from my lips and bursts from my soul falls silent upon the ears of the masses,
by ~jessfiness
Favourites
The keepersThe Keepers Keeping something that isn’t really there.The keepers
Aya’s lilac eyes shot open and franticly darted around to see where she was. There was a oversized redwood desk in one corner of the room with three chairs around it, padded with a soft velvet. Smiling diminutively, she realized that she was in the study. Her favorite room in the whole house. She was once again at the window watching the black snow fall from the blood red sky. The infatuation of it was so intense, that everything else seemed unimportant and it wore her down rapidly. The very way that the snow fell was astonishing.
Aya was one of the Keeper
by ~0-bunny-0
An Existence Rendered ObsoleteOne time I could just look you in the eye and speak to you endlessly... That time is gone Would you do me this favor and keep your distance?... I need this nowAn Existence Rendered Obsolete
Seems as though once is too often for a troubled wanderer; to gain peace and unity throughout his cold journey I accept this, but wish that everyone put it in perspective
Sometimes we have to separate ourselves from the ones we love... In order to progress Seems almost disgusting to think I could once look at you in good light... I do not see how
Seems as though once is too often for a troubled wande
by ~inflames05
WinterdeviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Current Residence: the center of all that is dull
- Interests: laughing, sleeping, designing, photography, reading, writing (always writing), movies, tv...
- Favourite movie: donnie darko, eternal sunshine, requiem for a dream, kill bill, hero...and on and on...
- Favourite band or musician: okkervil river, modest mouse, damien rice, death cab, eric clapton, eisley, bright eyes, coldplay...
- Favourite genre of music: indie
- Favourite artist: da Vinci, Stephanie Pui-Mun Law, van Gogh...
- Favourite poet or writer: Emily Dickinson, J.R.R. Tolkein, J.K. Rowling, Poe
- Favourite photographer: my dad
- Personal Quote: it's sneaky as hell when you're out on your own and you've already labeled yourself: not breathing
- Tools of the Trade: inspiration, pen, notebooks, prismacolors, imagination, you
- AIM: laughingmongol
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--
Oh my god you've got to tell me
with stainless steal agaisnt your head
I'll paint this barrel blood fucking red. We've all been scratched. We've all been tainted.
--
Noli me tangere.
--
Oh my god you've got to tell me
with stainless steal agaisnt your head
I'll paint this barrel blood fucking red. We've all been scratched. We've all been tainted.
--
~::huggs::~
--
~::huggs::~
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