vespera

Queer Billy Dino Enthusiast

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what matters

There is a beautiful woman asleep in my bed, nothing unrequited here. I am waiting for the sun to rise, there is only so much time and this is a memory I need to keep, to write again and again until you see what I see, your long-legged deer-self, deep breathing painlessly through a steady summer dawn.

Written for me and response poems

Joanna II

Photos and Art

her goddess voice

When you read to me now it’s only Winamp and the hum of your AC, the dripping pipes in the basement where I curl around my computer, marvel over life before filesharing keyboards, instant word-thought- desires. But the echoing leaky pipes have the music of all water, a wandering river in summer, when you read me poetry or sometimes sing in Spanish, your voice shakes off her laughing, human edge. You caress the word, god, as if you knew him and his dark secrets; devil is smooth and fierce. They are players on your stage, this must be what all the texts mean when they grandly claim the big picture and immediately follow with,

Kate

Ryan

Cameron

twenty.

You will never be a teenage mother or a teenage prodigy. No teenage kicks excusing drunken antics; you are no longer a teenage dirtbag. You will never break world records now or have a distinguished academic career. You will never be head girl or swing your schoolbag hand to hand on sticky summer days. You will never again be innocent you have nothing left to learn and you feel you know so little. You don't have the excuse of youth nor the wisdom of age to keep you safe from prying eyes and mocking tongues. You will never know young love again or suffer for sneaking out on schoolnights an

Bella

Devious Journal Entry

I woke up one day and found myself in love again. --- I don't know. I don't know how this all works, to be honest. I've never really done this before. been in a stable, solid relationship, one that doesn't promise heartbreak around every corner. been happy for long enough to know that it ebbs and flows, and that's normal. and okay. and I think I brought it on myself, too. cut my hair and flirted with the cute girls and work and asked myself again and again and again whether I could really be happy with a guy forever, not taking a breath for long enough to realise that I'm in love with a fucking person, not a gender. the

Stephanie

Otherwise Good Condition

I have worn the same dress for four days, because I am sick, exquisitely sick -- black and gold, your drunk dimestore Nefertiti. A white stain announces itself, a muddy star: she coughed here. Undo yourself, those sallow words you drink, let the silk fall loose. I've got a face like dirty laundry and burial grounds -- What I touch becomes unwell. I wear my hair like it pains me, blow kisses like a little girl sucking her teeth at cars, the caked little tombs of sugar that crumble, naked under the hot milk of the sun.

Emily May

Her Catalyst

As she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble. So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together. But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot

Misc Poets

Firsts

I had sex for the first time on a Sunday when October air ate away the blinds and snake-lines of light pressed in at undone corners. I remember less of you, and more of me, cocooned in yellow sheets how you kept mumbling questions and I lay there, still. The prodding, the jostle, are so much less vivid than the sense that I was shedding skin becoming something, tighter, slimmer, more stream-lined. So that later in the bathroom, I saw myself, the mirror twisting my hipbones into shelves that I could rest my elbows on. I was nineteen then, so you, two times my weight, welding my bones into yours, made

Kelsey

Lisa

Rachel

After knowing them

Shane

The Screeching Halt

It all ended so peacefully, Stopped it did like hitting the mute button, or a shoe getting untied below the veil of a graveyard silence. I didn't intend to be accountable or to just let another spring day turn into a waste of time like hay paths irrigating into a sewer pipe headed to somewhere like the cow stench of Williams or better yet, the company of Los Angeles. I just know that I up and beyond the heavens now that hell has blown away Today, for a minute, I think and don't have to rush. Forever isn't usually in a hurry because whomever hoorawed the last hoorah probably forgot to check their calendar and freaked when i

Tones

it's all it took

I'm not an asshole, most of the time. My fingers trace where your hand used to lay to the left of my stomach. Oh how it aches, a slush of shadows lulling around, you tried to say you love me, you tried to say I pull funny faces before I sneeze, you tried to say ohidontknowiwasscared. I felt nauseated. I got up to smoke. There was shrink wrap around my legs, There were mushrooms in my basement, there was a smell coming from somewhere behind my bed. You would have laid there forever if I didn't mention it, but I did, and then my fingers cried when they could not find anything.

inmyroom

Bookmark Pricing - Updated!

[EDIT] Hey all :) If this looks differnt than you remember, that's because I've been re-vamped my prices again. I'm also updating to write that I'm now accepting PayPal! :la: I've done my best to still keep the prices fair, especially considering that I've spent a small fortune accumulating materials for this hobby. Please see this page for the bookmark request guidelines, and this folder to see all uploaded examples. In pricing, please keep in mind that 100 points is equivalent to one dollar. If it weren't for the fact that I have to mail these, I'd probably price it lower, but I have to keep stamps and envelopes in mind, especially bec

Tutorials and "Lists" for inspiration

risk.

you choke on it; you raise the lip of the glass to your own & drink until you drown, swallow the loose ends down. cutting back on romance, like people swear to do away with cigarettes. crumpling packets, pressing one more to my mouth and swearing alright, one last time. you can't help it, when everyone's so willing just to hand you one, in a bar or a backyard, sneaking around corners to indulge and crushing out the evidence; we leave lipstick ash between the sheets. i held your hand; your fingers grazed the small of my back in a gesture so intimate i had to stop myself from getting too attatched, from stitching those small wrists

yousaid

supercell

this is how tornadoes pass- suddenly; a stillness in the air and a particular odd bruise-yellow of sky. the drop in my stomach, ache in my joints. clouds piling up to flash and raising up a furious cry. you arrive. you've been a cataclysmic catastrophe. i should have known better-- bolted my cellar doors and prayed for you to blow over, like a hang-over or bad dream. but your finger-funnel finds me and rips apart the tenuous boards of my body. (my heart, which i thought so sturdily patched,

jes gonzalez

Reality TV 6

Resilience? Hah, don't make me laugh. It's turning into dreamland again. A blur of I-don't-care-what-the-fuck-happens. Sidestepping reality. Ponderosa pines, mountain's misery Manzanita. Shockwaves, thresholds Log cabins. Stare into me. Grisly And shaken. I feel her reaching for me. A scream Sonic booms The speed of sound Emptiness unfurling from my fingers.

Am-eh-lee-ah

Amelie

Natalie

Mantis

I thought I was a kaleidoscope of euphoric perceptions, a sensual overlap of sixteen color-receptive cones on the acid spectrum, creator of words to describe what only I could see when those sinews melted, and the ocean waxed at my backdoor. I was bottom-feeding, heat-seeking, capturing bent men like stunned seahorses boiling in the rainbow coral, blinking wake of sonoluminescent dazzlement: tight jeans wrapped around their ankles, faces blue but bubbling dank blood to their lips that sealed a pseudonym— Then I was tongue-tied like a victim complex: always the receiver and never the sadist of an infliction self-invented. I was word

Kevin

jorge

Ringing in the New Year

I wanted to do a really fun end-of-the-year feature like I saw so many other people doing...but I just flat-out do not have time. There are so many people I've met through the Glory-Be-Project (https://www.deviantart.com/glory-be-project). I mean. I've just grown so much as a writer this year, and a lot of it is thanks to that group. So I suppose, above all else, I really and truly have to thank vespera (https://www.deviantart.com/vespera) and FuzzyHoser (https://www.deviantart.com/fuzzyhoser). Seriously, Glory Be has been kind of life-changing for me. Maybe that's corny, but it's very true. And while I'm on this tangent, I definitely have to thank Nichrysalis (https://www.deviantart.com/nichrysalis) for allowing me to be a part of Multhaiku (https://www.deviantart.com/multhaiku). And I promise that in another few days or so, when th

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