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Literature
Dinner conversations
My stomach turns something fierce. My mom sits across the table talking down on anyone that isn't to her liking and isn't in agreement, and my smile is plastered on. I'm a good actor, see. I can keep all the fear inside instead of letting it leak out of my mouth. I know she knows. I know she does this just so I can hear how much she disapproves but I'm a good actor, I don't let nausea get to me, I keep it all locked up until I can fly.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Loneliness  by GuessMyGame Loneliness :iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 2 0
Literature
A moment
Ever had a moment when you just don't know how you do it? How you keep going? How you made it this far? Ever looked back and cringed at all the years taken from you by depression and thought, oh god, it's no wonder I don't know how to function. I didn't for so long, I'm still getting back on my feet. And that's okay, it doesn't make me incompetent and it doesn't make you weak to have relearn how to live after spending so long not wanting to.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Literature
Night for me
Panic attack night time personal anxiety mental health silence darkness to quiet
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Literature
Almost asleep, but
I hate sitting in my room, in the lap of luxury. I look around and it's like the walls are eating me, it's like some disease and I can't scratch it off my skin. I drag my nails over goosebumps and hate being here. I shake and cry cold and silent tears in a to big house and wish that I could just have a crawl space where the ceiling didn't tower above me like the sky and the walls didn't echo their emptiness. I'm not claustrophobic, I want the stagnant air to close in on me and I want the city to burn, burn the black creeping into my room always, there's just no lamp big enough to light the shadows and make my empty bed seem like home.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Bored in class by GuessMyGame Bored in class :iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 2 0 Maglor by GuessMyGame Maglor :iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 4 0
Literature
sleep
I dont not want to sleep. I know that the tired metaphors will only circle through my head, and that the waves of nostalgia will suck the breath from my lungs. I stare a black ceiling, waiting, waiting... waiting is the worst part of it all.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Minimalist Johnny Weir by GuessMyGame Minimalist Johnny Weir :iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Literature
Songbird
“Is anyone listening?” A songbird cries out,
To a dark night with no moon
As the shadows churn and boil over
“Is anyone there?” The songbird cries out,
To one thousand soundless souls,
Who's throats catch their voices and shove them back in their lungs
They shake, as the songbird cries
But not one lift a finger, there is no sound
As the dark night crawls on and despair gathers
“I know you are!” cries the songbird, his wings are broken
The black tide rises and falls in silence,
No moon appears, the shadows boil over
And the songbird is consumed.
On some road, one soul finds his voice again.
“What a beautiful songbird that, such a pity.”
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Dove by GuessMyGame Dove :iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 1 0
Literature
Her heart
At the age of 10, her heart was gentle.
She cried some nights and loved her mother.
At the age of 12, her heart was hurting.
She cursed and cried and torn up walls.
At the age of 13, her heart was mending.
She carefully stitched but missed some places.
At the age of 14, her heart heart was sad.
But she turned it to art and watched the sunset.
At the age of 15, her heart broke apart.
It was crushed under foot and she had to make a new one.
At the age of 16, her heart wasn't in pain anymore.
But it didn't feel love at all.
At the age of 17, she laughed easily.
However people shied away.
At the age of 18, she left her home as soon as she could.
She took out some string and made a heart that could love,
Since there was no longer anyone around with the power to break it.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Literature
Smile
Her smile was a million mega-watt lie, that she had nurtured since she was 7. But with each passing mirror, it looked more real. With each new dawn it became a reality. She took her destiny and casually threw it into the waste basket. When she smiled, it was real.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Literature
Fine
It had taken him a year to realize that her version of "fine" was "alive".
He would ask her if she was alright, and she would cock her head, contemplating, and then reply only with "fine". At first he thought she was being evasive, but the truth was that in her mind, that was the right answer. Sure, everything had gone to hell and she had a panic attack last night, but she was alive. So she was fine, with confidence that she would get over it. That she would regain whatever it was that she  lost, and all she needed to be was fine.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 1 0
Literature
To late
It's to late at nights
to think about leaves-
soft autumn leaves
falli
n
g
But the stars- I don't think I've ever seen them shimmer with such conviction before, each pinprick of radiance blinding like a flashlight, like the flashlights we use in the woods, when the stars were like a river in the unreachable sky, when the dark wasn't scary at all.
It's to late in the night to remember the meadows I ran through or the mountains I climbed, the people I kissed and who they've become. Little feet on hardwood floors, in a house I half remember.
It's to late for things to start making sense again.
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 0 0
Literature
Over
I think the night is over
because I can see the dawn
A light on the horizon
I think the pain is gone
I turn my words from mouring
I can finally write a song
about the way the night feels
and not about what's wrong
:iconGuessMyGame:GuessMyGame
:iconguessmygame:GuessMyGame 1 0

Favourites

Kisame Itachi Attack by lamwin Kisame Itachi Attack :iconlamwin:lamwin 2,420 242 Two Kings page 15 by Doublethickcustard Two Kings page 15 :icondoublethickcustard:Doublethickcustard 229 17
Literature
Silence
Silence is golden, no sounds are in sight,
Nothing is heard that sheds any light;
Movement turns dark, then quiet comes near,
Listen to stillness and watch dreams appear.
:iconForgeAus:ForgeAus
:iconforgeaus:ForgeAus 153 15
Literature
on florida, after the fact
they say the tallest thing in the state is a landfill.
fitting, for what are we all but used up things rotting in the sun?
this gilded cityscape even Mike Bell couldn’t escape, the king of
running, the concrete kiss that kept him still.
say this is for the ever expanding list of obituaries i recognize
in the paper, not sure whether to mourn or make note,
we, just a bunch of rich kids with nothing else to do but die
and once, summer was just an afternoon thunderstorm,
just a parade of bicycles in the cul-de-sac
and, back then, we didn’t really know cool
till we heard it on the bus radio, know how to
keep ourselves out of trouble, or at least from
getting caught, say this is for those that did;
for dada and gary, i hear they both in the pen now,
better that than the ground, though, i guess
and for bradley, who hasn’t said dead just yet,
just ain’t been living right lately
see these days, those of us that made it out
be lookin back, how suburbia can swallow you who
:iconsuccesswithhonor:successwithhonor
:iconsuccesswithhonor:successwithhonor 52 8
Literature
under the floods.
when i was born,
my mom used to listen to me breathing, she used to
smell me deeper than addiction; she would count my fingers and toes
so carefully, eyes wider than wonder. she reminded the others
that, a little sister did not mean casualty,
a little sister did not mean a coupe on the love surrounding you,
did not mean terrorized territories on white castles
on the empires you've bordered & volumed in the inventions
of your dreams. she gave them simple instructions:
follow yourselves to the end of the edges
of your thereafter,
do not get choked on the rough sentence in between.
they did not know she had just prophesied
her extent. by "sentence", her children were too young to understand
she meant where our father would end up— twenty five to life—
how it would force us to hunt the breakneck rivers
of life, desperately pleading for gospels of growing up
upon its shores. she meant, growing up was often deeply scary.
that sometimes, it doesn't involve god.
so she taught this
:iconsimilar-singularity:similar-singularity
:iconsimilar-singularity:similar-singularity 113 31
Literature
Umbrella March
One, two, three, four
Hear the coming uproar
March! (two, three, four)
See the mighty downpour.
Weapons out, banners bright
Every shape, hue, height;
Rain barrage and passing spray
Remember this Umbrella Day!
And yet! (two, three, four)
This is anything but war
Hup! (two, three, four)
This is earth and sky rapport.
Waterfalls from building tops
Ripple-watching, puddle-hops
Heavy awnings, glowing shops
... But we're all glad when it stops.
:iconEmily-Byrd:Emily-Byrd
:iconemily-byrd:Emily-Byrd 64 22
FACES by Min-Nguen FACES :iconmin-nguen:Min-Nguen 1,255 30 CindyM by avvart CindyM :iconavvart:avvart 2,026 77
Literature
October 19th
October 19th
I arrived at home a pure soul
but I retreat a mosaic of soles.
Yes, I have been stepped on,
I have been led and brought on, spat on,
had the rod on, been beat and been broke.
At least you like my lyric.
At least your bootmarks no longer ache
and glow hurt-red. Marks, my words
when they pelt the ground, raindrops
falling but not on my head;
they cool my wounds. Even nature
is sympathetic. It gives you a sun today
and an excuse to burst from your dungeon.
I say take that chance. There is a want
for freedom there. Boot-march is a twisted
soundtrack there and it has gotten old;
the bright thoughts of bright leaves
and the dear faces of the strollered children
all wide-open and enamored with everything,
are writing you a new set of lyrics.
:iconSpiderMilkshake:SpiderMilkshake
:iconspidermilkshake:SpiderMilkshake 45 18
Frodo Baggins. Dark Forest by NellMcGooffin Frodo Baggins. Dark Forest :iconnellmcgooffin:NellMcGooffin 203 28 Indestructible... by Dark-Indigo Indestructible... :icondark-indigo:Dark-Indigo 781 116 White Winged Lion by anna-lakisova White Winged Lion :iconanna-lakisova:anna-lakisova 2,473 92
Mature content
Grief Monger :iconregal-pinion:Regal-Pinion 29 22
Maglor by EKukanova Maglor :iconekukanova:EKukanova 1,861 246 Turandot by KibiQeQ Turandot :iconkibiqeq:KibiQeQ 1,020 33
Literature
30 sad quotes
Sad Quotes
~I don't run from you, I walk away slowly, and it kills me , 'cause you don't care enough to stop me.
~When you walk away, I count the steps that you take.
~"I love you" is eight letters long, but then again so is "bullshit".
~I wish I had saved all the tears you made me cry, so I could fucking drown you in them.
~Who do you turn to, when the only person in the world who can stop you from crying, is the one making you cry?
~I run in the rain, so that nobody can see my tears.
~Maybe when he broke my heart, he forgot I could feel.
~They say that loving you is my biggest mistake.
But how can it be wrong if it feels so right?
If I ever make a mistake,
It's not that I love you…
It's thinking that someday you'll love me too.
~Giving up doesn't always mean you're weak, sometimes it just means that you're strong enough to let go.
~The saddest thing in the world, is loving someone who used to love you.
~Pain doesn't hurt… when it's all you've ever felt.
~My heart was taken
:iconMai-Taniyama-anime:Mai-Taniyama-anime
:iconmai-taniyama-anime:Mai-Taniyama-anime 441 122

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Activity


My stomach turns something fierce. My mom sits across the table talking down on anyone that isn't to her liking and isn't in agreement, and my smile is plastered on. I'm a good actor, see. I can keep all the fear inside instead of letting it leak out of my mouth. I know she knows. I know she does this just so I can hear how much she disapproves but I'm a good actor, I don't let nausea get to me, I keep it all locked up until I can fly.
Ever had a moment when you just don't know how you do it? How you keep going? How you made it this far? Ever looked back and cringed at all the years taken from you by depression and thought, oh god, it's no wonder I don't know how to function. I didn't for so long, I'm still getting back on my feet. And that's okay, it doesn't make me incompetent and it doesn't make you weak to have relearn how to live after spending so long not wanting to.
Panic attack night time personal anxiety mental health silence darkness to quiet
Night for me
Sometimes it feels like the darkness is pushing back. I recently got the itch to turn on a nightlight, a sentiment that I haven't felt since my years were in the single digits. I pace the halls at night in a sleepless fervor, I feel the panic set in. It's something I can't place, it's like it crawls from the shadows and eats me. It's not the dark that scares me though... it's the quiet. It's to quiet here. It's to lifeless. I pace, I get the urge to draw but nothing comes to mind. I get the urge to write but my hands are still and then the world turns into a glass ball and I can't decide if I'm inside or out. I panic. I have to be working towards something, my head says, because if I don't I'll be stuck in the silence forever and I try to scream but I don't know how to break the spell and the quiet won't shatter around me. I panic. I pace the halls. I make pancakes at midnight. I paint. I drown it all out with music. But the the dark is still outside and it wants to get in.
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The horizon is laid before me like misplaced lighting in the chill of the night. It's splayed like a cat, toes curling as my do in the grass of the ledge I found. I look out, the lazy horizon so far as I watch it fall asleep . I stay awake on the ledge.

Pride

I AM PROUD

Made with pride by the DeviantArt community

The horizon is laid before me like misplaced lighting in the chill of the night. It's splayed like a cat, toes curling as my do in the grass of the ledge I found. I look out, the lazy horizon so far as I watch it fall asleep . I stay awake on the ledge.

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Kurina
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.
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:iconquiestinliteris:
QuiEstInLiteris Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2017  Professional Writer
Thank you for adding The van Helsing Legacy to your favorites!
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:iconkittysib:
KittySib Featured By Owner Jan 26, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
:party: Welcome to DA!:party: I hope you like it here!
Thanks for the insightful comment!:D
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