ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Shut the door and breathe a sigh,
Not many understand
How truly vital is this time;
I take my pen in hand.
I lock myself inside my brain
And tuck away the key;
And finally I open up
Into a writing spree.
Sunlight rushes in upon
The cobwebs of my soul;
The stale air is swept away
My thoughts can now unroll.
Scattering mosaic words
In frenzies on the page;
My spirit soars in victory
Like swallows from a cage.
Not many understand
How truly vital is this time;
I take my pen in hand.
I lock myself inside my brain
And tuck away the key;
And finally I open up
Into a writing spree.
Sunlight rushes in upon
The cobwebs of my soul;
The stale air is swept away
My thoughts can now unroll.
Scattering mosaic words
In frenzies on the page;
My spirit soars in victory
Like swallows from a cage.
Literature
Wind Chimes
I am reminded
that even solid metal
breathes
Literature
Stop wishing
I want to stop wishing upon every shooting star
and counting down to 11:11. I want to stop hoping
my wish will come true with every silver penny in
the lake and every wishbone broke. I want to stop
blowing dandelions and candles as though they hold
my future, I want to sweep away my fallen lashes
without closing my eyes so tight that they hurt
just to hope for another silly wish to be granted.
(G.L)
-Stop wishing
Literature
They sing 'one for sorrow' and now you know why
A fortune-teller once told her that she had
eyes made for crying and that there would be
sparrow-boned boys with fledgling sharp beaks
who would smell it on her. And they would peck
peck peck kisses on her eyelids and leave claw-prints
on her palms, leave tears welling in her eyes as they
soared.
She would forever be the branch, never the bird. Spring
could paint her sakura-pink and summer could coat her
in honey-amber sap but there would
always be an autumn, a winter, when
the geese would mark out arrows over
head, calling the birds to migrate to tropical
freckle-faced girls and pebble-beach-back
women, all sunshine all the time. But she wa
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Comments24
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I can relate to this so much. For one, my writing process is quite the same. I just hang out in my room, with my window open so I can feel the open air, and just let my thoughts flow. I also felt deeply the thought of not many people understanding how vital this time is for writers. My family always asks me why I sometimes lock myself in my room when they come to visit. It's because I have thoughts in my head that might not come back if I don't get them down in time.
Great work, wonderfully written.
Great work, wonderfully written.