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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
April 13, 2013
Part-Time Hooker by ~slowslicksnails had the suggester saying: It's like thoughts, the poem can be interpreted in so many different ways which makes it even better.
Featured by Nichrysalis
Suggested by panicphotoofyou
Literature Text
I inhale smoke and dirty thoughts
(sleeping with a waste-of-calories
with no sex appeal. her heart
doesn't beat
the volume of
smell increases as it's
getting hotter than a
fever heat
I don't mind her
cold hands around my --
burned out lights form a
silhouette; film this on
screen like a dream
you can watch or hear.
but she doesn't scream;
her bones suffocate me
as she's wrapped around
my body -
she's stiff, cold, dry.
sleeping with a waste-of-calories
with no sex appeal. her heart
doesn't beat. )
Until I can't breathe.
(sleeping with a waste-of-calories
with no sex appeal. her heart
doesn't beat
the volume of
smell increases as it's
getting hotter than a
fever heat
I don't mind her
cold hands around my --
burned out lights form a
silhouette; film this on
screen like a dream
you can watch or hear.
but she doesn't scream;
her bones suffocate me
as she's wrapped around
my body -
she's stiff, cold, dry.
sleeping with a waste-of-calories
with no sex appeal. her heart
doesn't beat. )
Until I can't breathe.
Literature
I Call Him Compulsion
Three. Four. Five. I like five; it feels complete. Okay, one more time. Six
Seven. Done.
"How long does it take to get a glass of water?" my husband calls from the living room.
"Sorry, I'm coming." I resist the urge to rinse the glass a few more times. Cleanliness is not a factorit's the numbers. The completion. The habit. I take a sip of my water and force myself to stop asking if I should just run the water one more time.
I join Sam in the living room and sit in my usual spot: the center recliner. He always lies on the couch to watch TV. It works.
He hits the play button, and we watch ten minutes of reality before the demon
Literature
Burning Out, and Falling Fast
You're sitting in your parents' old corvette (if you had bothered to check, you'd know it was older than you), flicking your eyes between a lighter in one hand, and a box of matches in the other. You forget when fire became such a need, a distraction.
Spencer is right beside you in the car, his fingers stroking idly at your forearm, watching you with hooded green eyes.
"If you want to die," he says, "then just kill yourself, but do it with style."
Pause. Rewind.
You met The Boy Under the Sycamore Tree when you were four. Your mom encouraged you to go see the lonely boy, and when you
Literature
Through the Light
The cancer took Mary on a Friday, just after three in the morning. She was laying in bed, sleeping. I sat in the chair near the window, reading something, I forget now what, trying not to think about the moment, only thinking about the moment. It had just finished raining, and I had the window to the room cracked, the scent of fresh condensation floating in from the garden outside. The air smelled pure and relaxed. It was lovely.
I was dozing slightly when the EKG started to beep. It took me several seconds to realize what exactly I was hearing, not that it mattered much. By the time I was out of the chair, the nurse had walked in. She move
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I thank Betty Blowtorch for the inspiration to write this. [link]
Edit: First ever DLD! Thank you all for your support.
Edit: Wow, first ever Daily Deviation... Thank you so much for ~panicphotoofyou & ^NicSwaner for featuring my piece. You both made my day! Wow, this is unbelievable...
(took off mature content warning...not sure if it needs it? If it does then tell me and I'll put it back)
Edit: First ever DLD! Thank you all for your support.
Edit: Wow, first ever Daily Deviation... Thank you so much for ~panicphotoofyou & ^NicSwaner for featuring my piece. You both made my day! Wow, this is unbelievable...
(took off mature content warning...not sure if it needs it? If it does then tell me and I'll put it back)
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Comments248
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Omg I love it.