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To the lonely sea and the skyin the dim of twilight
I feel immortal
but I feel blue;
stardust and sun drenched
torsos

watercolor pain

like the desert misses the rain

I remember you:
a sky of smog
coasting on thin ice,
limbs tangled
around the
sextile sun and uranus

bones

dust

insomnia on the silvermoon

but I am the wayward child
and there's a hole in my soul,
so please show me

show me what the stars look like tonight.

SenescenceBefore the rain,
all the leaves are brown.

Here's to green memories -
but the tree that loves its leaves
will never know the art of aging.

You found love in our yellow room,
but winter's holding my hand;
it won't be long.

When somebody says your name for the last time,
they gently take your life.

I should write this down.holy shit I should write this down -

the bad advice kills me;
like self publish WAY before they're ready.
how can we make it better?

you don't write to get a DD;
you write something awesome and then get a DD because you're there.

you don't pay to be published.

publishing isn't the end all be all.

we're ready for you.

Clarity"Come. You be a gear right here,"
she dares and she is tempting. I admit,
enclosed worlds don't appeal to me.
I am embers on the highway.
I'll forge myself into something greater.
The harvest suits me not, so forth I'll go;
judge me not.

Show me how the sun rises.
Even in the dead of winter,
I am scorched like the Earth from the inside-out.
The heat of this nameless, godless desert is trapped within my wounds.

Follow the shuffling feet,
the bloodied shapes
like patchwork hope sewn together from someone else's sacrifice.
Unmistakable, undeniable, guilty;
but the answer will have escaped you.
With the perfect clarity of ragged eyes
all become

UsedA pillow soaked with tears.
My tears.

I cry all the time out of lonlieness now.

When will you love me again?
Or will you just use me?
Really now, be honest.
Truthful.
Hate me? Why? i've been nothing but nice!

And I've always cared.
Now you're leaving.
You don't care anymore.
Try is all I did.
However, you just used me.
I only wanted a best friend.
Now you don't want me.
Good grief!

Tell me what I did wrong!
Oppressed you? Never!

Your ideas were always great!
Ooutstanding, evem! You're gone now. You don't care.
Used me. That's all I ever was to you.

WishesSo many people wish upon stars.
How many secrets do they hold?
Oh, it must be over a million,
Over a billion.
Trillions at least.
I can't even imagine how many there must be.
Not one person hasn't tried it.
Great, dark skies with tiny, twinkling lights.

Stars are trusted by people.
They never tell your secrets.
And they always listen.
Rise of the sun, the disappear.
Set of the sun, they are back to hear.

LonelyBy myself again.
I don't go anywhere.
To do anything. So I sit there,
Twining my fingers together in boredom.
Except - I don't have to be.
Really. I could call a friend.

The answering machine picks up.
Eventually I leave a message to call me back.
And I cry, because I hate being alone.
Rewinding my VHS tape, I play my favourite movie.
Sad one, though. It's Fried Green Tomatoes.

I hate being alone.

Cause it hurts. It's scary.
Radical thought run through my head when I'm alone.
You guys, please don't leave me, I request as tears run down my face...

AvoidingWhen you're not here, I feel empty.
How much? A lot.
You're avoiding me.

And I'm sad.
Remember me? Or have I become invisible again?
Exceptional. That's what you used to call me.

You used to want to hang out all the time.
Outstanding, the way things change so suddenly.
Underneath my covers, I feel scared I'll lose you.

And yet, i don't call you. Because I'm scared of you, too.
Very much so. I don't want to be yeled at.
Only -
I miss you so much.
Do you miss me?
I waant to talk to you! But you're -
Not talking to me anymore.
Good grief, do you not want me anymore?

Maybe you don't. You could have told me, instead of breaking my heart.
Eve

What is Hallowed and CommonI don't know if I believe in love
But I sure as hell hope it doesn't find me.
I've got too much going on to worry about that.
Hell, I don't even want it.

I think.

I see all these other people moaning and groaning about it
Because they haven't found anyone yet.
They use that word for it? "Found"?
What, is it something you just stumble across without meaning to?

If that's it, love sounds pretty damn inconvenient.
I mean, you're not prepared for it.
You don't know exactly what to do with it,
the first time.

And things like that mess up everything.

Those star-eyed idiots say it isn't so.
That it's supposed to be unexpected.
Well, so is a mug

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quatre angles noirs - 3by ~Dosvidania

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hors de lui
hors de sa nuit il espère ne plus se retrouver dans la vie. il lit de la prose inoffensive...

--

out of him
out of his night he hope to don't meet himself again in this life. he read inoffensive prose.

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Submitted on: March 22, 2011
Image Size: 857 KB
Resolution: 1256×1627

Views: 123
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~millionsofwires Jul 15, 2011 Student Traditional Artist

Stunning! Can I ask how you did this one too? ))

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~Dosvidania Jul 15, 2011 General Artist

Ink from a broken stylo. Nails and hands, again.

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Mood: Zest

~millionsofwires Jul 15, 2011 Student Traditional Artist

Your techniques have really inspired me

I think I'm going to try it one day.

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~Dosvidania Jul 15, 2011 General Artist

Well. I usually improvise with what I found on my way. Do the same.

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~millionsofwires Jul 15, 2011 Student Traditional Artist

Indeed I will! What inspires you in your work? I always find myself working around people, and I've never really thought of something different I could happily work with.

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~Dosvidania Jul 15, 2011 General Artist

I hardly "work" "happily" with people. But I supose that you have to find your inner "thing".

End of Transmission.

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