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Literature
alan.
The nights alone at the edge of the water are often the hardest. I’ve spent many nights here breathing in salty air awaiting an answer to a thousand questions running miles through my head. Water thrashes around me, whispering sweet nothings; suddenly I am reminded of times I spent with Alan, although now it seemed we were living in two different worlds. We often fished here, but occasionally we would lie along the shoreline and have nose-to-nose conversations about everything and nothing simultaneously. His eyes were the most piercing cerulean, and as he spoke I felt them pierce through me like the sharpest of razors. He and I had some
All
39 deviations
Literature
november *
you are a storyteller
and i want to know
everything that
you are willing to
share with me. i will
become a human sponge, and
soak in the words that
spill from your lips. they
are scarred and torn, but
they are yours, and that
makes them inexplicably
perfect, tangible
and fresh. you are young
and unexplored, and i am
a traveler. sometimes
we journey into
places that do not deserve
our presence. this is
expected, and we
must adjust ourselves to the
new surroundings, which
is easier said
than done; my compass points to
an endless plain, marked
with oddity and
a heart made of kaolin.
i promise not to
Featured
1 deviation
Literature
not finished
you're the reason i have to keep click-click-clicking at this stupid on-screen keyboard; after hearing you say all those empty promises and the waste of breath you call love.
my eyes are puddles of noxious gases and steam;
couldn't tell you if i'm angrier or if i'm only telling myself i think i can i think i can i think i --what?
love isn't love when she has your body and i still have your heart.
love isn't love when your arms are wrapped around her and clamped across my mouth.
love isn't love when you're us.
Scraps
1 deviation