|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Two As One, But Still Just Two ApartThe feel of your skin
is like a drug
We could be closer
We're as close
As is physically possible.
So what more can there be?
Can I satisfy
You breathe a new life
Into this body
And perhaps that
Is what I yearn for.
You're not actually
For this need.
Maybe what I need
Is someone new
Someone I can keep
Someone to be mine
I can also belong.
So I'll keep looking for that person
But in the meantime,
Please give me your skin
If I wear it
I can finally feel
Like I'm close enough
Animal Instincts, Hidden WithinThere's this feeling
A primal instinct
The inner animal
Waiting patiently inside
to bring her out.
I can feel
As she crawls to the surface
To the top.
Covered in fur
Wild and Feral
She grins coyly
And stalks around you
but not in anger.
This is a game to her.
Looking for the perfect window.
And then she springs,
And all is teeth and claws
And a meeting of skin
As she yearns to bite
But this is not in rage or hatred.
She just wants to play
She is the wolf
The animal instinct.
Dare you to play along
Drawing you in
Catching you up
Daring you to let go
As she pulls you along
On this crazy ride.
In a world where all
And a Primal
Of desire to just
Splattered Emotions, Tainting the WorldI want to paint the World
See through my eyes
Feel this color.
Here I stand
In shades of Red
And you don't notice.
And I don't want to explain.
So give me the paint
Gallons upon gallons
And a giant brush.
And stand back
As I splatter
With my emotions.
So you can see them.
So everyone can see.
See the world
Fluffy Bunny FeelingsI've loved you
For quite some time now.
And we've been through a lot together
Through crazy times
Thick and thin
And all that.
I get to hear you say
"I love you"
In a way
I've never heard you say it before.
Deep deep down
I wish you could say it to me
In that way.
But it makes me complete
To hear you tell it to her.
There's a love and a warmth
That make me feel
Is exactly as it should be.
And I still love you
And hope we never part,
But as it turns out,
One of the greatest things in this world
Is hearing in your voice
The love you have for her.
And there's no jealousy
Or pangs of sadness
On my end.
As it turns out
Just the way it is.
And I wouldn't want it
To be any other way.
Poisonous Melted HeartHave you ever felt
Like that single
Running down your cheek?
Like it might eat away your skin
If you don't wipe it away.
What makes this one
From all the rest?
This single tear
It is solitary
The only one to fall.
With no provocation.
Big and Small.
Perhaps that's why
It feels like it is melting the skin
As it falls.
And it slides down
Ever so slowly.
An agonizing experience.
Only a few seconds of your life.
But those few seconds
Are the longest of all.
The Last Piece of FruitHere is my heart
I'm giving it to you.
It's been yours for a while anyway.
Maybe if you're the one holding onto it
It'll stop getting bruised.
You'll take care of it,
I'll cut it from my chest
Sorry if it drips on you.
And I'll try not to cry
As I sit back here
Cradling this bruised organ in my hands
As I watch you
Give your own
I love you both
But that's just it.
You love each other.
So maybe you can keep this.
Put it in a box, if you like.
Out of sight, out of mind,
I will tread water
In this vale of tears
A vast ocean
But I can see you
Both of you
Standing on the shore
Waving at me
To come out of the water.
But I've forgotten how to swim
And you don't have a boat.
I'll just lay back
And let the tide carry me back in.
You don't have to wait for me.
Just take this organ first.
There's already a hole -
Just reach in
And pull it out.
But mind the bruises and the soft spots
It's a little worn, it would seem.
And from what I can tell,
Little Red Robynn Hood Part 14Robynn woke at the base of the tree she'd been sitting under the night before. John was gently shaking her shoulder, and Voss was standing just behind the shoulder of the crouching man. "Wake up, girl," John said softly to her. "We can offer you a bit of breakfast."
"You ought to call her 'my lady'" Vincent sneered as he passed behind them, stopping to leer at Robynn. "Locksley is a noble name after all, isn't it?"
Robynn sighed, and pushed herself into a sitting position. "I won't deny that my family was noble," she told them. "But I do not wish to be called 'lady.' We all know that even a woman of noble blood is valued less than the poorest man, and I do not want to be seen as your superior because I am noble, nor your inferior because I am a woman. I would like to be your equal. And I would like you to call me Robynn."
Vincent laughed scornfully. "Sounds like just the thing
Little Red Robynn Hood Part 13Robynn leaned her back against a tree as she sat before the fire the bandit men had made. They all sat in a circle, laughing and joking and passing around food and wine. She smiled as she watched them. Even though they had lost their homes and their wives, they seemed rather happy. She was a bit startled to see Voss, the boy she had seen at Marian's, run up to hug John Little. "Father!" he cried happily.
"He's your boy?" Robynn inquired as John came over to sit on a log near her.
"Aye," he responded. "This is Voss."
"She scared away Sir Guy, Father!" Voss exclaimed, grinning wildly at her.
"That true?" John asked her, as the other men in the circle, who had been distracted by the boy's arrival, also turned to look at her, waiting for her answer.
"It is," she said with a small, modest nod. "But then again, he seems quite easily frightened. Not my best work, nor the hardest by far."
"And you've done a
Little Red Robynn Hood Part 12Marian sat on her bed, alone in her room, and sighed. It had only been a couple of days since Robynn had left, but somehow, it already felt like an eternity. She wanted her friend to be by her side. There was so much they needed to talk about. Marian wanted to hear about the years of Robynn's life she knew nothing about. She wanted to know why she'd never mentioned a man or a lover. She wanted to be able to talk to her about the feelings she couldn't understand. And she wanted to ask Robynn what she had meant when she'd said that she loved her.
There was so much going through her head, it was hard for her to concentrate on any of her tasks. She had helped the poor who came to her house, she'd worked on a new piece of embroidery, she'd taken her favorite horse out for a jaunt. But it all seemed rather meaningless right now. She felt there was no point to it all, unti
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
Murmurs Of A Sentimental HeartComfort is a warm power brick
A soft blanket
A cup of tea
A good book
Love is a clouded mind
And the occasional broken heart
And feelings without words
And the need for a phrase stronger than
"I love you"
Heartbreak is tears on your pillow
Emptiness within you
A soul without a partner
A hand with none to hold
Only a stuffed bear for comfort
And emotions are what make us feel alive.
Without it all
Life might be
And even though
It hurts sometimes
I wouldn't give up these feelings
For the world.
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More