dear sarah, yesterday I tried to swallow the sun. it burned me up on the inside until even my skin was hot to the touch, and I thought of you. I hope you have found better ways than me to feel lighter. heaven knows there are days where I still trade my feet for concrete blocks and try to sprint to the finish line, but at least I have stopped straying towards the riverbanks. at least I get out of bed. most days, that’s enough. but if you tell me that most days life still feels like a choice you’re making every minute, I will tell you that I understand. I have spent years trying to outrun my sadness, sipping sunlight until my vision blurs and looking up only to realize I’ve been going in circles and calling it progress. every escape I ever made is a town I can never go back to and I’m not better for it. I carry so many graveyards around inside of me, and I’ve lost count of how many bridges I’ve burned because I confused loving with leaving. take my sadness away, I don’t
i like to think you think of me by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
i like to think you think of me
you didn’t come to the airport.
i didn’t send the postcard. these
are small defeats. easy to swallow,
easy to look back at, to pinpoint what we
could have done differently, things that
would have yielded a different outcome.
vary the variables, reset the experiment—
you didn’t get me flowers. i didn’t remember
your birthday. paper cuts,
not amputations. too insignificant to be
remembered past the day they happened.
blame is a tricky thing. hard to hold in your
hands. the first time you take cough medicine
that hasn’t been sweetened. a bone that breaks
and heals crooked. a load heavy enough
that holding i
the myths i'll tell my daughters by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
the myths i'll tell my daughters
i like to think eve and pandora fall in love with each other.
and every god in every heaven is afraid of them,
the women who taught men to sin and then get to be
happy in the end. i like to think eve bakes apple pies
to celebrate long weekends, that pandora always opens
her birthday presents too early, that they get to grow
old and stubborn and surly wrapped around each other
with a fire in the living room and laughter just a breath away.
i like to think there’s an after to stories like theirs,
that the gods created them but couldn’t control them,
that we pass our expiration date and outgrow our
purpose but continue existing an
the third time i call, you pick up and i say by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
the third time i call, you pick up and i say
yesterday i walked past the diner where we fell in love,
and i thought i saw the waitress wave at me as i went
by and i realized that the most terrible thing
in the whole world would be you rereading all those text messages
i sent you when i was stupid in love. those weren’t meant for you, okay,
those were for the boy who split his milkshake with me and
held my hand through an entire season of Friends and
sat with me in silence on dirty rooftops while we smoked stolen cigarettes.
look, i didn’t even mean to call the first time, but i was
drunk and high and cold and my old favorite song
came on the radio and i remembered how much
it’s Christmas, so you sleep with him.
it’s Christmas and your family is thousands of miles away
and you’re lonely and it’s snowing ad he drove you home and
he let you pick the first movie and he picks the second one,
a comedy you’ve never heard of before and when he laughs,
he looks at you to make sure you’re laughing too,
so you sleep with him.
and maybe you always thought you would be in love with the first person
to bruise your body in places only you and the mirror ever see,
maybe you thought he’d be younger; maybe you thought you’d be. maybe
you thought the lights would be on or your unde
on the day we are supposed to meet,
i will be too sad to get out of bed.
destiny will knock insistently on my door, will
stick its head through the opening and call my name,
softly and then louder when i do not respond.
it will pick its way through the chaos of
my bedroom, over shoes and socks and sweaters
i haven’t worn in a week and shake my shoulder.
i will close my eyes and roll over.
i will have eaten too much the day before. i will have not
eaten at all the day before. i will feel like my hands
are only good for dropping second chances on the floor next to
dirty underwear and last week’s failed midterm and half full cups
the moment you become more than a one night stand by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
the moment you become more than a one night stand
it’s half gone four in the morning and i should be looking at nothing but the backs of my eyelids
but i can’t bring myself to tear my eyes away from how beautiful you look
with my bed sheets all tangled around your body
and your hair all tangled around your face and your eyelashes brushing your cheek
every time you blink like this will be the last time before you go to sleep,
but our mouths haven’t stopped moving in one way or another since you locked the door for the night,
and the longer you talk about your grandmother's favorite knitting pattern
the more sure i am that it's too late to leave this room without leavin
toeing the edge of the rubicon by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
toeing the edge of the rubicon
freshman year of college,
i break the first rule of dorming with someone else:
i touch her stuff. it’s october, and just starting
to get cold. i wear a sweater and a jacket at all times now,
but i’m always caught off guard by the rain.
i don’t watch the weather reports anymore;
this has something to do with
why i am on my roommate’s side of the dorm,
but i do not connect the two.
it takes me an hour. it shouldn’t,
but it does. i stop to look out the window, to examine my hands,
to wonder why they are not shaking.
i stop to write, but i don’t get much farther than
“dear mom and dad” before
why i do not know how to introduce ed by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
why i do not know how to introduce ed
some days i wake up and my stomach says, “i am hungry.”
and my brain says back, “good; eat.”
and i have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and my brain says,
“you are human, you are human, you are human, and this is what humans do.”
and i feel okay and i do not think much about why this is strange.
it is cereal at nine, a sandwich at half past twelve, and supper at
a quarter to seven. on these days, my stomach is quiet and
polite. my brain is also quiet, but with the intensity
of one who is preparing for war. still,
i never see it coming.
then some days, i wake up and my stomach says, “i am hungry.”
an hour after losing by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
an hour after losing
when i walk into the bathroom, with dawn
breaking her fingers to squeeze her hands through the windows
at the end of the hall, i am surprised to see a girl at the corner sink.
i expected to be alone to wipe at my face, to press gentle fingers
against the tender skin of my neck, to pull up my shirt
and check the visibility of my ribs
and the flutter of my heart, to stare at my eyes in the shitty mirror
in the shitty lighting and calculate all the little changes that a boy’s hands
can wreak on a body in under an hour. but she
is there at the corner sink, scrubbing at her red and irritated cheeks
like she is lady macbeth trying to eras
dear sarah, yesterday I tried to swallow the sun. it burned me up on the inside until even my skin was hot to the touch, and I thought of you. I hope you have found better ways than me to feel lighter. heaven knows there are days where I still trade my feet for concrete blocks and try to sprint to the finish line, but at least I have stopped straying towards the riverbanks. at least I get out of bed. most days, that’s enough. but if you tell me that most days life still feels like a choice you’re making every minute, I will tell you that I understand. I have spent years trying to outrun my sadness, sipping sunlight until my vision blurs and looking up only to realize I’ve been going in circles and calling it progress. every escape I ever made is a town I can never go back to and I’m not better for it. I carry so many graveyards around inside of me, and I’ve lost count of how many bridges I’ve burned because I confused loving with leaving. take my sadness away, I don’t
i like to think you think of me by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
i like to think you think of me
you didn’t come to the airport.
i didn’t send the postcard. these
are small defeats. easy to swallow,
easy to look back at, to pinpoint what we
could have done differently, things that
would have yielded a different outcome.
vary the variables, reset the experiment—
you didn’t get me flowers. i didn’t remember
your birthday. paper cuts,
not amputations. too insignificant to be
remembered past the day they happened.
blame is a tricky thing. hard to hold in your
hands. the first time you take cough medicine
that hasn’t been sweetened. a bone that breaks
and heals crooked. a load heavy enough
that holding i
the myths i'll tell my daughters by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
the myths i'll tell my daughters
i like to think eve and pandora fall in love with each other.
and every god in every heaven is afraid of them,
the women who taught men to sin and then get to be
happy in the end. i like to think eve bakes apple pies
to celebrate long weekends, that pandora always opens
her birthday presents too early, that they get to grow
old and stubborn and surly wrapped around each other
with a fire in the living room and laughter just a breath away.
i like to think there’s an after to stories like theirs,
that the gods created them but couldn’t control them,
that we pass our expiration date and outgrow our
purpose but continue existing an
on the day we are supposed to meet,
i will be too sad to get out of bed.
destiny will knock insistently on my door, will
stick its head through the opening and call my name,
softly and then louder when i do not respond.
it will pick its way through the chaos of
my bedroom, over shoes and socks and sweaters
i haven’t worn in a week and shake my shoulder.
i will close my eyes and roll over.
i will have eaten too much the day before. i will have not
eaten at all the day before. i will feel like my hands
are only good for dropping second chances on the floor next to
dirty underwear and last week’s failed midterm and half full cups
an hour after losing by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
an hour after losing
when i walk into the bathroom, with dawn
breaking her fingers to squeeze her hands through the windows
at the end of the hall, i am surprised to see a girl at the corner sink.
i expected to be alone to wipe at my face, to press gentle fingers
against the tender skin of my neck, to pull up my shirt
and check the visibility of my ribs
and the flutter of my heart, to stare at my eyes in the shitty mirror
in the shitty lighting and calculate all the little changes that a boy’s hands
can wreak on a body in under an hour. but she
is there at the corner sink, scrubbing at her red and irritated cheeks
like she is lady macbeth trying to eras
1. “so have you, like, ever fallen in love with a straight girl?”
she asks. “i bet it’s like, totally awkward.”
i laugh and stutter through a no that comes out
sounding too much like your name, and then you are there,
slipping into my mind without knocking, like you have any right
to come back unannounced. it has been months since you called.
i suppose that counts as awkward, but when people say awkward,
i think of teenagers skinning their knees tripping after each other,
of the sound of knives scraping dinner plates during sunday supper—
i do not think of your voice when you tell me you have found
the
i have heard that every woman
is either ophelia or the queen,
either too much or not enough,
either drowning or swimming, either
dying from grief of living with guilt.
but i have run past enough finish
lines in my life to know that sometimes
you give up and sometimes you keep
going until your legs hurt and your
lungs bleed.
what i mean is that i used to forget
that there once was
a version of me that did not
know the twelve shades of blue in
your eyes or what words to use
to describe them.
what i mean is that i still catch myself
thinking about that time i saw
you singing in your kitchen with your
hair down, dancing around to the radio
what willy loman said by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
what willy loman said
i keep trying to tell you that
the woods are burning, the ocean is flooding,
but you think it’s the summer heat
and the summer rain and you think
this is how it has to be
but it doesn’t it doesn’t
it doesn’t—
and you don’t leave
because you think we have time, but the smoke
is a noose i could hang myself with and
we got jewels and riches and coins but
we don’t got a damn second.
an open letter to my twelve year old self by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
an open letter to my twelve year old self
one day you will cut all your hair off,
and hang up a map of the world in your
room and you will look at it on days
you think your life is going nowhere.
i hate to tell you this, but this isn’t
your worst year. it also isn’t your
best.
one day you will cut all your hair off
and realize that some poems need to be read
out loud, to an audience, so you’ll take a hammer
and some nails and build yourself one
out of a girl whose veins look fragile but
whose bones are strong, a boy who isn’t as tall as
he thinks he is, but whose lifelines are the deepest
you’ve ever seen, and a girl whose eyes remind you of the
east
i think you are lovely.
but i am not in love with you,
and by the fifth time you catch my eye and look
away just as quickly, i realize
that i cannot will myself into being so.
if love were as simple as a field of flowers,
i swear i would pick you a bouquet
of daises, and make sure that every petal you
picked off ended with ‘she loves me’.
if love were as reliable as the sun,
i would never stand so far away from you that our
shadows did not touch.
if love were as predictable as the weather,
i swear i would spend every storm
kissing you in the rain.
if love were as fair as Lady Justice
i would tie a scarf around my eyes
and sp
In the Weekly Spotlight by LitRecognition, journal
In the Weekly Spotlight
This Wednesday, LitRecognition (https://www.deviantart.com/litrecognition) will be featuring the last week's Daily Deviations. They are wonderful pieces, and deserve that little extra boost of attention so READ THEM ALL!! Take a look-see, and give these wonderful people the Literature Community Love, if you haven't already!
2/7/19
Mercury-the-Queen (https://www.deviantart.com/mercury-the-queen)
2/8/19
MisfitableGrae (https://www.deviantart.com/misfitablegrae)
2/9/19
LaurenIpsome (https://www.deviantart.com/laurenipsome)
2/10/19
Kurt-Jarram (https://www.deviantart.com/kurt-jarram)
2/11/19
Atomograd (https://www.deviantart.com/atomograd)
2/12/19
InkyPages (https://www.deviantart.com/inkypages)
2/13/19
LiterarySerenity (https://www.deviantart.com/literaryserenity)
never say goodbye, only see you again :) by similar-singularity, journal
never say goodbye, only see you again :)
i've been on this site for 8 years, various hiatuses/different accounts. these last few months, i started a journey i never thought to endeavor before (in terms of spirituality) — and so, here i am.
dA has been the greatest tool in developing my writing style. i couldn't be more blessed. writing was never a hobby for me, it was always a means to an end. and that end is still a goal/dream i am working towards. but somewhere along the way, i stopped growing here. i found my style, became comfortable with how i wrote, and stopped growing. i'm still writing (and will be for as long as i'm alive), but i won't be posting anymore.
there is a
february in retrospect (2017) by and-speak, journal
february in retrospect (2017)
some gorgeous work this month <3
inthespacebetween (https://www.deviantart.com/inthespacebetween) we breathe indigo.bluejayandbutsoaquarius
drowsydoe (https://www.deviantart.com/drowsydoe) bloody bleeding beautiful
MisfitableGrae (https://www.deviantart.com/misfitablegrae) toeing the edge of the rubicon
peaseblossoms (https://www.deviantart.com/peaseblossoms) an issue of perspective
pansydiv (https://www.deviantart.com/pansydiv) cynical, arsenical, typical.
runaway.
sapphic and starwoven girls
angelserum (https://www.deviantart.com/angelserum) empty self evaluationimpatient, irrational (rashes)
gliitchlord (https://www.deviantart.com/gliitchlord) aphonia
aflail
we become clouds
capital punishment
thebalefulprimal (https://www.deviantart.com/thebalefulprimal) the end of an era, the beginning of a dynasty
BleedingProphecies (https://www.deviantart.com/bleedingprophecies) Encore.
RJBG (https://www.deviantart.com/rjbg) KICKING UP THE DIRT
Orphically (https://www.deviantart.com/orphically) black girl magic.tiny, sideways infinities.
Exnihilo-nihil (https://www.deviantart.com/exnihilo-nihil) Aux
november in retrospect (2016) by and-speak, journal
november in retrospect (2016)
i've decided that at the end of every month i will put together a compilation of works that i've saved to my "best" collection. they are works that deeply resonate with me, works that i feel deserve more attention. i will feature them here.
here's to the best works of the month.
utopia is a synonym for dystopia.
by inthespacebetween (https://www.deviantart.com/inthespacebetween)
living proof
by celestialparanoia (https://www.deviantart.com/celestialparanoia)
art history boys
by pansydiv (https://www.deviantart.com/pansydiv)
jarring clay
by gliitchlord (https://www.deviantart.com/gliitchlord)
spades
by celestialparanoia (https://www.deviantart.com/celestialparanoia)
an hour after losing
by MisfitableGrae (https://www.deviantart.com/misfitablegrae)
ethanol
by pansydiv (https://www.deviantart.com/pansydiv)
keep making beautiful work my friends <3
&
Daily Lit Recognition for May 9th, 2016 by DailyLitRecognition, journal
Daily Lit Recognition for May 9th, 2016
Daily Literature Recognition for May 9th, 2016
Featured Author of the Day
Suggested by: comatose-comet (https://www.deviantart.com/comatose-comet)
Our featured author of the day is: MisfitableGrae (https://www.deviantart.com/misfitablegrae) :la:
Suggester says:
Narrowing down three poems from the superb gallery of MisfitableGrae (https://www.deviantart.com/misfitablegrae)
is no easy task. A tremendous writer with a mastery of imagery and emotive language, it is difficult not to 'feel' along when reading one of her poignant explorations of the self. In particular, her writings about love and
sexuality stir the heart but her entire gallery warrants close reading.
An honest and free-flowing
exploration of asexuality.
"you were
all my poems"
A line t
Welcome back to SeniorSelections (https://www.deviantart.com/seniorselections) with its 83th week of selections featured by Senior Members!
Please show your support by :+favlove:'ing this news article. Please also comment and :+fav: on our wonderful features!
exarobibliologist (https://www.deviantart.com/exarobibliologist)
LiliWrites (https://www.deviantart.com/liliwrites)
spoems (https://www.deviantart.com/spoems)
Stygma (https://www.deviantart.com/stygma)
Please note: We are still accepting admins to join our team for further information refer to this journal, and we take feature suggestions from the community just send us or a team admin a note!
Thank you for supporting this group and project from the SeniorSelections (https://www.deviantart.com/seniorselections) team!
801 watchers?! Okay that's a crazy number - I don't think I've even met that many people in my life :faint:
So again, thank you to everyone who has watched me since way back when (Iloveyouall:la:) and a big welcome to my new watchers - it's my final year of uni so uploads and replies will be a bit sporadic but I promise I will always get back to any notes or comments at some point!
Anyways, here are some of my fave literature pieces I've come across on dA in the last few months as a massive thank you gift :dalove:
dear sarah,
i wonder
if sometimes you can still feel the weight of your bed sheet
around your neck. heaven knows there were days i could count every thread.
last night i was cleaning up my desk, and i found the scissors
i used to crack my skin open four years ago
and when i went to throw them out, it felt like moving mountains
or graves. if you don’t know yet, you’ll learn that some types of grief
leave scars—some ghosts don’t know how to stay buried.
you will stumble through the rest of your life wondering if you will
one day forget how it feels to toe the edge of the cliff and turn the other way.
the answer is no
wow do i vacillate between taking myself too seriously and not taking myself seriously at all. i'm from the south of USA, moving to the northwest of USA asap. the only pictures i like of me are profiles in bad lighting so u can only see half my face, apparently. i periodically submit poems. it might just, you know, take a little while, but apparently i'm always coming back. i'm eighteen now, graduating high school in a couple of months. um. i appreciate all of you guys so much i could never tell you enough.
lovelovelove gm
Favourite Visual Artist
Bill Watterson
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
lmao one direction who am i kidding
Favourite Books
Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
Favourite Writers
ok sorry fanfiction writers are so underappreciated i could go on and on about this
good evening guys!!
So I recently took down two of my most recent posts (I screenshotted every comment though, don't worry, I keep those always and forever) because I've started seriously looking into publishing. If I'm being honest, I have no idea where to start or what to do, but I think it's about time I learn how. Part of this is trying to find a wide and new audience for my writing. My friend months ago suggested trying to use instagram as a way to get more people interested and at first I laughed the idea off, but today I ended up going for it and creating an Instagram account for poems and poem pieces. I'm not sure how well this will
well, more like this week. and like, i'm scraping the bottom of the barrel on songs to listen to for exam studying and just for driving and things!!! please please please give me a couple of your favorite songs i really wanna talk music with someone!!! i'm like getting desperate now. support your local poet pls!!! i'll even like clap back with one of my fave songs or something :< pls thanks i love you so much
from one poet to another I have to say that out of all the poems I've ever read here or anywhere yours are the most compelling and profound. i cried reading them and that usually never happens. your writing is so raw and so beautiful and I can feel everything through your work. It's unbelievably powerful . Please never stop