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About Deviant Artist oh, youFemale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Years
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Literature
everywhere you are.
        [It's snowing tonight.]
        It's winter again, and she probably already knows it. But what she doesn't know is how I would pay too much attention to the way the thin gold chain necklace her mother made her wear dips between her protruding collarbones and the way she fiddles with the hem of her skirt because I know she hates the way her knees look. And with the winter comes everything else.
        It's that time of year again when everything comes flooding back. It always happens the same way: it's the way the trees cast shadows that seem darker than they were before, and the cold and breathless sunlight that rekindle that frantic, grappling feeling that scratches at my throat and compresses my chest, creating one nervous heartbeat after another, released into the inside of my sweater and coat, going unheard.
       
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Literature
embroidery.
i knew we were unraveling.
i'd always noticed the kinks and imperfections in the fabric but never said anything.
never said anything about the loose ends that were being pulled apart; the patchwork that needed resewing and the buttons that needed refastening.
but neither did you.
so I took my needle and thread and tried to fix it.
i would sit quietly alone with my tools, trying cross-stitch, chain stitch, running stitch, anything, to mend this cloth.
but because i was clumsy; because i fumbled with the needles, i'd always prick my finger; the cloth now stained vermillion, and i'd have to stop and wash it off.
countless bandages covered the tips of my fingers. thimbles were now a necessity, and even though it hurt, i kept sewing.
and one day, when i thought i was finished; when i thought i'd patched up every hole and rip and tear, i sewed my heart onto the front in hopes that you'd see it.
why did i do something so careless?
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dear you, by lightninginabottle dear you, :iconlightninginabottle:lightninginabottle 1 0
Literature
leave me your wake
i keep dreaming of her and the ocean.
and how her legs blend into the sand and begin to wash away, and how the water pools in the dent of her collarbone and trickles down her neck and flows back to the sea. how everything returns and nothing can stay.
and my eyes sting because i'm crying saltwater because the moon won't let me keep her. he keeps reaching out, ripping at her skin. pulling her in and washing her back for only a short while, white and cold, but the constellations on her back and shoulders are still bright.
she keeps reaching up,
grasping at something beyond her skeleton fingers.
'i can't remember what it's called.' her voice is vacant. 'but...it's beautiful isn't, it?'
it's dark and vast, and the ocean can't compare.
she slips from the shore and into the waves, her hazel eyes blinking dully as she watches wish-worthy light break through the steel above her head and fall to the surface, illuminating the ocean floor and awaken the whales who moan with envy that they can't e
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daydreamer by lightninginabottle daydreamer :iconlightninginabottle:lightninginabottle 1 1
Literature
I'm unwell.
        i suffer from a disease with symptoms such as weak knees, scarlet cheeks, broken hearts, and waiting outside the school gate to walk home with a girl who doesn’t like me the way i want her to.
        she’s the farthest star that i can never reach, the gut wrenching stomachache i have every night before i go to sleep, and the incessant tap tap tapping in my chest that i can't seem to quiet no matter how hard i try.
        and i never notice how ill i am until i look in the bathroom mirror and see the bite marks on my lips that kept them from trembling and feel my heart wince at the sight of her face outside the school gate.
        [unrequited love is the worst sickness of all.]
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Literature
speak to me.
        i’d often find you in the graveyard behind your house, sitting atop of tombstones swinging your black converses back and forth and throwing your pretty head back to smile at those who weren’t there. i’d watch you, ever curious as to why you would talk to those who don’t answer.
        ‘dead don’t speak. they listen. who better to talk to?’ is what you’d say to me.
        i didn’t understand. but on sweltering nights when i couldn’t get to sleep because the only thing i could think about was your winsome grins, i’d long to be beneath the cold earth with your words as my only warmth.
        other times you'd make bouquets of dandelions and lay them across the top of the stones and repeat little prayers you heard your mother say. you got mad at me when i told you tha
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Literature
have you seen her?
        Tell me have you seen this girl? This red haired, cat eyed girl with snowy skin kissed with freckles and pretty pink lips that I think about much more than I should.
        
        Tell me have you seen this girl? This girl who sits in narrow alleyways and draws crooked hearts on the chipped walls with the eyeliner and red lipstick she likes to keep in her pocket to make her feel pretty.
        Tell me have you seen this girl? This girl who sprints barefoot down the hot pavement until her feet begin to burn and bleed and leaves scarlet footprints in her wake and I like to think she's leading me to her.
        Tell me have you seen this girl? This girl who doesn’t know the English language and only speaks in riddles and rhymes and poems because she thinks normal conversatio
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Literature
hey you.
hey, hey
        remember when we were little and we’d scatter glass marbles across the playground concrete and play for keepsies. i was so upset the day you won my cat eyes that i wouldn’t speak to you. but you were too cute to stay mad at. plus i won your oxblood.
hey, hey
        remember when we accidentally broke mrs. mellans window with a baseball. you grabbed my hand and led me into the garden, shielding me from mrs. mellan’s yelling like they were arrows. my face matched the poppies, and i was afraid the black eyed susans could see.
hey, hey
        remember when you told me you liked girls with long blonde hair and pretty skin and eyes. i tried to bleach my hair the next day alone in the bathroom. i burned my scalp. i sat in the bathtub that night and tried to scratch away my blotchy red skin and rubbed my eyes so they’d look like diamonds
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Literature
melt my heart.
you're such a heartbreaker you blonde haired blue eyed boy
when i see you, my chest softens
and begins to slowly drip like a forgotten popsicle
and plummets into my stomach
no
to me, you're a heart melter
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again and again. by lightninginabottle again and again. :iconlightninginabottle:lightninginabottle 2 2
Literature
no blinds no alarm clocks.
        I used to lie awake with the sheets bunched and twisted around my legs, watching dawn creep in through the window and run up the walls and along the floor, robbing the room of the dark. I’d listen to your wind chime-like breathing; breaking for only a moment then dying away and the world returning to mute. You’d be drenched in early morning sun, your back glistening like pearls, your golden hair ablaze and your eyelids fluttering erratically like broken butterfly wings. You were a flickering candle in the dawn, just waiting to be extinguished by the following day. I lie there, happy that you didn’t believe in alarm clocks.
        [“do you feel alive?’]
        I don’t sleep with sheets anymore; I got tired of waking up in a maze of cotton. The sun doesn’t visit much either, only between black bars as I pull the comforter ove
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sometimes I forget. by lightninginabottle sometimes I forget. :iconlightninginabottle:lightninginabottle 0 0
Literature
Letters for Laurie.
Dear Laurie:
        I just wanted to let you know that your skin looks beautiful tonight. Scarlet and ivory always did look better on you. I wish they’d make pianos that way instead of with ebony, but I want the red and blue lights pulsing like heartbeats in the midnight sky to go away. I want the stars back.
Dear Laurie:
        I found scraps of paper under your dresser the other day in a tin box with the word “confessions” written across the lid. The words “I used to rip the wings off of gnats and butterflies” was scribbled onto one. Before you get mad at me, let me just say I’m sorry, first for going through your things and second for staining your confessions with tears.
Dear Laurie:
        I never told you this, but I used to play songs backwards to try and find hidden messages. I’d discover secret poems between the distorted
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Literature
Silver Coins.
        I hated the smell that coins left on my fingers
        Musty, bitter, and dirty like blood
        You said that blood didn’t have a smell or taste
        If that were true
        Then why is it that every time I see you
        I bite my lip and my mouth floods with silver?
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Literature
4 Brothers.
        Winter is tall with icy blonde hair and eyes made of coal that smolder like embers. His voice is versatile; soft one minute, abrasive the next with cold sighs that escape through ashen lips that soon turn into screaming. His hands are like knots; his fingers forever clenched with the fear of being alone frozen in the back of his mind with white knuckles showing through.
        [I didn’t like Winter because I couldn’t hold his hand]
        Spring has porcelain skin, not yet kissed by the sun except for the rosebuds in his cheeks, and flaxen brown hair pulled back in yellow ribbons. He has a fragile frame and skinny wrists and ankles that he likes to adorn with woven flowers to cover rusty scars. He speaks softly like warm wind and flashes midnight blue eyes and winsome smiles to anyone who asks.
        [I did
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Activity


deviantID

lightninginabottle
oh, you
Artist
United Kingdom
hi, my name is reb and i drive with no shoes on.

Current Residence: Where soul meets body.
Interests
Lol wow three years late but whatever

GUESS WHO'S BACK

Comments


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:iconscarletdevil1503:
ScarletDevil1503 Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
:iconhello1plz::iconhello2plz::iconrose-plz:

Thank you for adding "I'll Remember You" to your Favorites! Have a nice day. :heart:
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:iconpieceocake:
pieceocake Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2010  Student Photographer
Thanks for the fav!
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:iconpieceocake:
pieceocake Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2010  Student Photographer
Thanks for the fav!
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:iconmaiwenn:
Maiwenn Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2010  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks a lot for the watch! :hug:
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Jotaku Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2010  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav! :'D
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dreamsinstatic Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2010
Thanks for the :+fav:
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Only-Another-Wraith Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2010  Student Writer
hi there. thank you for the fave (: have a nice day!
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ArcheroftheDark Featured By Owner May 6, 2010
Thankyou for adding 'Apology' to your faves! I appreciate it muchly!
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1121113 Featured By Owner May 1, 2010
thank you..:heart:
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LuciaConstantin Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2010   General Artist
thanks for the fav on Derelict VIII
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