Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

Pack-a-day

Deviation Actions

Nullibicity

Published: Jul 5, 2013

972 Views

Literature Text

A diamond queen
and seventeen,
smoking pack-a-day dreams
for 95 cents more than
zirconium-falls in slim nicotine

(but the cancer in ashtrays never
stops anyone from trying.)

There’s truth in gusts of sleep,
while I struggle in the
security of windbreaking
as heaven opens up to scream.

(OPEN) MLP AI Adopt #97

Soy-Socks

160

Buy Exclusive

More by Nullibicity

Literature

Prefix, Root, and Suffix

We never say "I love you," because since I first kicked you headfirst out of the womb we've been the matches relighting each other's lantern through each power outage. There are some things too powerful for words. We don't say "I love you," because it's too often been used as reassurance after a betrayal of its message, because it has so often been reduced (much like we were from our names to our birth's quantity). It is not our measure. Instead, we've learned to weigh emotion in palms - you, holding the aftermath of my body, while I screamed over tears - a banshee, as I buried and mourned so many realities, possibilities, because

Recommended Literature

Literature

Pack Rats

I want to be that stale as bread, peeling picture of her that you stow(ed) away in the beating of your breast pocket

Literature

confessions of a misguided poet

certain things in my mind would be better left unsaid, such as: i. how I stared at a bottle of pills for an hour as if they would slide down my throat on their own. ii. when I stepped out of the shower with bloody knees and didn't bother to put a band aid over them. iii. why I can't keep a smile long enough for someone to take my picture. iv. who I wanted to be when I was a little girl and who I am right here and now. v. where I tried to jump off a bridge and landed in water deep enough for me to swim in. vi. what I wanted to scream at you that day but I just stayed silent and hoped you would forget. no more pretty words and l

Literature

Aaron Green

He has four patients in analysis, who lie on the couch, and six patients who come in for psychotherapy and sit in a chair. A vivid, impatient, unsmiling face-- professorial clothes subdued tie black modern sofas beige carpets reproductions of modern art, an unswerving classical Freudian sort. I remember the agreeable warmth of the low-ceilinged, dimly lit room. A cozy lair. From these early, unimagi

Suggested Collections

Poems

Literature

The Cycle

Here I am again, aching. My heart pounds to my ribs, my lungs squeezing, my chest tightening, hoarding my tears. When I couldn't take it anymore, I'll run back to your safety (cause I don't feel safe with me); a safe haven that I know wouldn't last - a comfort and joy that's temporary. When everything starts crashing, I'll run back to myself again - trying to recover, thinking that I'm healing - then the aching begins again. It's a cycle; it keeps on repeating.

Literature

Look

Sadness In my eyes Scars All over me Are hidden In plain sight For you to see If you dare To take a closer look

Literature

Reasons and love

Love the one you can't stop [thinking about Like there's no [tomorrow, And let that become [your reason to live

Poems stories ect

Literature

Mermaids

When she was five she believed in mermaids For 95% of the ocean was undiscovered So she went to school and told her classmates how she wanted to meet a mermaid They laughed at her- "Mermaids don't exist." When she was ten she watched those same kids sit in wooden church pews praying to God- Proofless. She laughed at them for being hypocrites

Literature

Average

Once there was this girl Just your average girl Who went to your average school With your average friends And average boys And average school work And every day when this average girl came home She ran upstairs to her not so average room To blast her not so average music To which she would write her not so average poetry Instead of doing her average school work And then she would wonder about her parents Her not so average parents With their not so average jobs And would, every day when they got home Drink more than the average person should And every day her not so average father Would beat on her not so average mother And

Literature

Have I Suffered Enough

Your wounded, Defected, Mistreated, Regretted All things thats second guessed and Nothing less than a human You have Problems That eat you down And Memories Some Profound And hopes and dreams that gleam to reach the stars so very Far...... And i feel, You have suffered enough And have bled out enough And have Problems enough So I understand....... If your feeling down Hear my words as i listen to your problems now I will try to calm you down And I understand....... That you are scared for life But pick your feet up, move alright Cause everything will be alright i promise .... Oh i promise...... And I hope........

POETRY

Literature

2711

You make me ill to my core. It's the way you curl yourself beneith my skin and suck the love and passion from my bloodstream like a sun starved flower. You sit benith the open sky in your flowerpot, adorned with my words. I bathe you in the things you need, but yet you still rob my bones. You betray my trust when I need you most. Then you dissapear, like some godforsaken ghost into an early morning fog and all you leave behind is dew-drops on the lashes that protect my eyes. When you kiss, you consume. You burn like a forest fire, searing and violent, across the tips of

Literature

Untitled

"You left your watch here" This place has become a store house for bad memories Except when it comes to you because the only thing you've ever left here was me and now I'm stuck here waiting for you to take me home But you cant There's a whole lot of distance between us, gaps that not even the sun knows how to swallow up We are mismatched cookie cutter pieces stripped and sewn to the same heart Your patterned like A Clockwork Orange- all violence and vulgar slurs while I'm shaped a little like Happpythankyoumoreplease- all I want is your love. All you give me is your bullshit

Literature

Amongst the Stars

I could always handle you when you were cold water dripping down the curve of my spine and kissing the heat from my shoulder blades but when you wound around my legs and tried to drip off the tips of my fingers I had to stop you and press you back against my sternum Your kisses tasted like flower petals with edges more jagged than razorblades but I never minded when you left me raw and aching Instead I pulled your lips to my throat and let you kiss away the stardust and peel the paint from my skin- You always said I was like an old house and benith the cheep wallpaper that covered my frame were hidden secrets. I told you they wer

Featured in Groups

Edit: 7/29/13 Edited with the help of *ssolaris
Original title: erorr.
What do you guys think of the changes, if I can ask?

Original version:
A diamond queen
and seventeen,
smoking pack-a-day dreams
for 94 cents more than
zirconium themes
and slim nicotine

(the cancer in ashtrays
never did burn pasts...
but that didn't
stop anyone from trying.)

She'd drink her coat or stuff it
while I'm still struggling
in security and raincoats
when heaven opens up to scream

and when I finally tell
the truth, it's that
I can't be meters per second
when I'm too busy
in hearts per breaking

Yes. This piece is basically a big long rant of my ongoing/spurred hatred for love and for bleak futures.
I feel that it's #$%^. However, I liked the idea.

~ Critique is like food to starving men... therefore, it is much appreciated!
FEED DEM MEN! ~