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Literature
within and without
don't it always end like this
blue on blue on blues
hello, river
hello, wine
dear jazz band, sweep me into your arms and far away
lipstick smeared boozy brain,
blurry ride to west end avenue
hello, new york
don't it always end like this?
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 4 3
Literature
trauma is the new trendy
you look g     r     e     a     t
they say, words dripping and pooling at my feet,
hungry eyes raking jutting hip bones
setting their envy on the shelf of my clavicle
and i smile and i smile and i smile through sewn-shut lips
i am crying for Help Me Please Oh My God but no one will let themselves hear me
i replay every shred of evidence like a washed-out surveillance tape,
devour clues that have been there all along for my breakfast-
filigree lies have become afternoon snacks, perfect and polished on silver trays
i am dying and i look great
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 4 0
Literature
oh won't you just look at me
your disbelief picks up pitchforks,
arms you with guns,
gaping barrels pointed at my chest as i fall to friendly fire
dying breath spent, wasted
stuttered explanation falls on deaf ears, hard hearts
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 2 0
Literature
the mess inside
dearest mom: 
they don't tell you how quiet it really is After, or how tempting it is to wander into the hotel pool and stare wide-eyed at the bottom. how easy it is to envision yourself as a corpse when the water is a warm embrace and the overpowering odor of chlorine is mucking up your better judgement. wrapped in a hotel-issued towel, you become a little ghost haunting the linen closet in cedar falls. they don't tell you that you'll pretend it was all a bad dream and that you did not spend hours hiding and crying and trying to make sense of the scrambled mess that was once your brain. and they definitely don't tell you that when you go to your annual family pool party six months later, it will all come rushing to you with the force of an oncoming semi. 
my friends wouldn't look me in the eye for days. they did everything they could not to engage in conversation or small talk or god forbid be alone with me for any extended period of tim
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 3 3
Literature
try to leave no traces when you go
bury me in the folds of first-and-only-love
line my coffin with ribbons of photos soaked in rose-tinted nostalgia
poor strange, fleeting thing-
let distant memories be a fitting eulogy,
tombstone rooted deep in my crumbling hometown where no one will lay flowers at its stony feet
i left my heart in minnesota;
allowed its ashes to kiss lake superior and get swept up in the current
this death has come in waves
the sun can't reach me six feet underground
i have been cold, blue-lipped for months
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 5 5
Literature
denial
we made makeshift constellations of the lights winking playfully on the skyline
st paul city star-substitutes
hello, uptown,
while she was slinking to our bed,
soft in careful thief-feet
and you gripped a knife behind your back,
fingers long and sharp and talons ready to pull my heart from my chest
but i wrapped myself in the cloak you wore,
in ignorance stinking freshly of new betrayal,
banishing the shape of the creature that was devouring me
from the inside out
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 4 0
Literature
star-crossed
david bowie's mom was a narcissist. whether that makes me destined for greatness somehow, i don't know. maybe it links us, soul to soul, or something. since the tender age of four, the ethereal being on my television screen had become my imaginary friend. his voice floated through my stereo and settled in my brain and my wide eyes were burned forever with his image. i'd spent countless birthday wishes on the hope of getting to see him- a glimpse on the street, even, just to be sure that he was real. cd grasped in my chubby-child fingers, i'd sit on the rug and imagine him for hours, trying desperately to conjure him up. 
i wish the goblin king would take me away right now. i wish the goblin king would take me away right now-
he never came. 
my ex was- is a narcissist (but only after she dumped me). i was suddenly a child again, swaddled in unfathomable darkness that used to only come from turning out my night light. the world had morphed
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 6 4
i'm coming for you, pretty patrick! by singagainsoon i'm coming for you, pretty patrick! :iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 4 0
Literature
minneopa
vodka kisses stain my neck
and tighten like a noose
i like you better when you're sober
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 5 6
Literature
november
love lock, lift bridge, beach glass
everything i love is an echo of the past
our ghosts kiss under the streetlamps,
haunt every street in both cities
old apartment becomes a cemetery
your fingers graze my face when i close my eyes
hazy yellow lazy-morning love taunting me
lips like rose petals, teeth like razors,
heart of ice pressed against my chest
my ribs crack every morning-
how can you hear it and let me break open like this?
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 6 4
Literature
curse
when will these memories bleed out,
shutter-speed heart beat pounding in my ears
the creature that devoured me has crawled out through my ears and smeared greasy hands across my face
put me on the shelf-
first place trophy, first heart broken, first life ruined, first kiss, first love, first sex-
first, let me finish
what a curse to love a selfish heart-
crawls into bed beside me to cry apologies abandoned by day's first light 
every kiss lingers on my skin
you burn me still,
these cracking bones a monument to the weight of love-had, love-loved, love-lost
oh my god 
just let me die
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 3 2
Literature
i hope if i find the strength to walk out
i.
i will let grief wash me away-
it comes in waves and i am
helpless
it carries me back east with clammy hands;
this time i do not resist
ii.
shaking hands can't chart a map,
a shaking heart cannot undo damage done
the trees bend their leafy heads to kiss me,
wrap their gnarled hands around mine and lead me
away
iii.
my mind comes lose like a fraying rope,
too much weight, a sudden snap
my feet bid me farewell,
bid me step into traffic or off a bridge
but i lack the decision to follow
iv.
these chapping lips have said goodbye too many times
i left the guilt behind, tucked it softly into bed where you sleep beside her
my fingerprints remain stamped on your skin
just as the wound you caused will never close
adieu
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 6 3
Literature
rest in pieces
how does it feel to have my heart on your hands?
here lies the best four years of your life
finish what you started, selfish heart-
pick up the shovel and bury me beneath the floorboards
the wind blows through my shadow
let me haunt you like you haunt me
cold bed, here lies love
i slip silently through the walls,
through the cracks,
through the days
this house is a cemetary
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 86 30
Literature
godspeed
first of all, forgive the handwriting- i started biting my fingers off when i ran out of fingernails, figuring they'd grow back eventually. they didn't. now i am dictating this extremely important letter to a stranger in a coffee shop, and i don't have time to be picky about who has the best handwriting.
i guess the long and short of it is that i'm leaving. i know you might not be very happy, but you see, you left me exactly four months ago and i have finally gathered all of my things and all of my guts and it is time for me to leave. i tried to tell you last month that i had finally decided to walk out, but you weren't listening. you aren't very good at listening anymore.
there wasn't really one big final straw so much as an unfortunate combination of straws. i am not sorry. for once in my twenty three years, i am not sorry. no, i don't hate you. yes, i took the photos. no, i do not feel badly about any of it. you did not feel badly for putting me in this situation, just as i do not f
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 3 4
Literature
shame(ful)
i have been caught pink-handed
hands and face stained rosy,
love-and-love-lost's juices dried on my skin for everyone to see
no matter how the shower scalds me i cannot come clean
and she has kicked me from our bed to the hallway to the front porch to the east coast
i drag my worn-to-bone feet back home
while another star explodes, another lover takes my side of the bed
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 1 0
Literature
only love is all maroon
goodbye, lakes
every crashing wave i leave behind
every streetlight that has seen us stealing kisses
the cracking pavement aches for your feet beside mine
falling in love, falling in step
now i am just
falling
goodbye, sky-blue-waters;
sun glinting on our love-lock,
mocking this love-lost
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 1 0

Favourites

Literature
virgin thoughts
i. i hugged him from behind in the darkness: 
i was groping sturdy skinny stomach
and fantasized about slitting it open-
becoming the huntress,
and he was my half dead doe 
whilst his hands calmly rested on my own.
ii. she's hearing silenced voices, but she is not ill
like she made me feel.
within our suffocating sick talks
i forgot how to breathe-
and now she is struggling to do it through concrete. 
iii. you make me feel like shit,
and then yell at me for feeling that way.
your candycoat is becoming more diabetic and thick
every fucking day-
if you had testicles, i would have already made rings from them.
:iconAlessiah:Alessiah
:iconalessiah:Alessiah 21 6
Literature
hammocks, hikes, hands, hues (of you).
dreaming of hammocks
and hikes, hand-holding
and your hips pressed
against mine, 
i am dreaming.
i am dreaming.
dreams floating,
sleepwalking into
this domain
that is so strange
and so new,
but so you.
hold my hand
into the forest
where you are king,
where i am foreign.
lead us into this space,
and let us dream.
a quiet testimony
to lie awake
in this lucid place,
where we control this,
finally hold this.
a place where my
reveries are delighted
by your face.
my dreams have missed
this place. and they've
missed you.
:iconchromeantennae:chromeantennae
:iconchromeantennae:chromeantennae 10 0
Literature
shaky vibrato
anxiety looms
while i am nude in my bed,
ruminations of you stuck
in my cagey head.
"what do you want me to be"
in a voice lilt instead--
i don't know about you,
but i think i wish i was dead.
a childhood cadence
falls back on mine,
how could i ask you back
in this strange of a time?
but you're the keep-coming-back-to
-kind-of-person i can't ignore,
the human i miss most,
when your form walked out the door.
but your silhouette always teased
around the frame,
if you listen closely, you can hear my pleas
around your name.
:iconchromeantennae:chromeantennae
:iconchromeantennae:chromeantennae 14 15
Mature content
rapture :iconphantomtigers:Phantomtigers 3 5
Literature
weltschmerz
/eins/
i won't forget lips,
nor tears
nor everything else
that had You on my cheeks,
but i'll do my best.
(because love,
you're the howling in woods of lunacy)
/zwei/
i will forget your astrology talks,
how you explained my whole self
just through stargazer's midnights,
and the tiny fear in the eye
when you realized that i have a Pluto in the 12th house:
the best paintings are never painted,
and some words decompose better in saliva
than in brain.
/drei/
i won't forget
those endless lines of fruit of having a lot to say:
doubts and thoughts,
pseudonyms and asterisk-less cuss words:
because it was the only friend i needed,
and yet i never gave it chance
to start breathing.
:iconAlessiah:Alessiah
:iconalessiah:Alessiah 13 13
Literature
easter driving
and i’ve been thinking about the
final breath too much i’ve been
      (dreaming about it)
wondering how to google it without
throwing up red flags
i remember graffiti on a
billboard i saw last year—
      “humbled by the idea of death”
it said
i think about that too
crushing blow to the head i
marvel at the violent ones i
wonder just how long it takes i
ponder the pulsing blood i
push it out with my fingers i
wrap it up in neat bows i

crave it, lacing up my
arms with it

tight rows little red life
grows from it — i wondered about the
      pills yesterday — my phalanges crawl
      through my nails and over the counter
      return with bottles to swallow whole
i am branches made of glass
soaking up the sun and slicing through
 clouds, absorbing the sleet within and
  diluting the mind with it, godlike arsenic
   sliding along th
:iconand-speak:and-speak
:iconand-speak:and-speak 22 6
Literature
callegrafia
they gave me paint for this reason—
plastic wires tangled with good luck charms in her pocket,
empty handed but for a sketchbook (one page
a tribute to van gogh's blue, the rest stained with gray)
the dusty jeans and tattered shoes
mark her as a
rebel, reveling in the un-knowledge of the flawless.
here's what it means to have scars:
crouched on an uneven platform, holding
half-recklessly to a metal gutter and
marking feathers on tarred dust
tal vez todos los artistas son
delincuentes / maybe all artists
are criminals &
maybe my meaning gets lost in translation
(but that's the point of being flawed)
from this low on the ground it
doesn't seem so new
where new is a synonym for what's left without you
no hables esas palabras / it's all third-person now
the second i saw _ _ _ i knew i had never escaped
there has to be some reason i love the sound of the word ayúdame
:iconPatchworkLynx:PatchworkLynx
:iconpatchworklynx:PatchworkLynx 69 34
Literature
nervous tick
i. i curse you some nights, kicking the soil around your grave and daring you
double fucking daring you to be alive somehow
somewhere.
ii. i heard you at my grave. my god your face has lengthened, your jaw was so slack and wide and i nearly lost it
lost it like you clearly already have.
i want to tell you i do. i'm alive, in most ways at least
but
no.
iii. your mail still rattles my door of a morning hiding in with mine like it can sneak past me
past my dulled senses and weakened barrier.
everything is numb.
vi. a shadow. thats all that i am now, friend.
i have tried dialing numbers or scrawling words but they don't come.
imagine that, me, out of words.
i am not myself anymore
v. solitude will be the death of me.
i'd swear to god, but you've ruined that too
you logical bastard.
:iconohsparrowsong:ohsparrowsong
:iconohsparrowsong:ohsparrowsong 32 39
Literature
what you sow
            (one)
I was genetically (pre)
disposed of, my common senses
the first to go
looking for my glasses
(which were sitting on my face)
            (two)
I'd been told of time:
    "for the love of God
    can heal all wounds,"
but I had to learn for myself
that borrowed faith
will tear the stitches in it
            (three)
they say the fruits of labor
never fall far from the womb
that bore them, and I am nothing
if not my father's daughter
so I am the hypocrite v2.0 &
I fall far short of my mother's pious soul.
:iconhypermagical:hypermagical
:iconhypermagical:hypermagical 8 3
Journal
April 2017 Literature DD Roundup
Congrats to all that got one!
Keep supporting your community by commenting on DDs and suggesting them! Thanks!
:icondoughboycafe: Features by doughboycafe


Hozan (Sadness) by shehrozeameen A Brave Climber's Drive by Kadreshi
Love through a Veil by BornWithTheSun Moving in the Same Direction by SykCyn Day 3 : The road side shrine by DeniseCroy
:iconbeccajs: Features by BeccaJS
a new play list by sithwolfThe Master is Not a Good Man by FragmenteDreamson florida, after the fact by successwithhonorInspector Wolf and the Disappearing Dancers by Tobaeus
x by days-be-strangefortune bonsai by silverniumWhere There is a River Bent by Time by justbthe gestalt laws of grouping by scheherazades
Gray Mood by zippip
     
:icondoughboycafe:doughboycafe
:icondoughboycafe:doughboycafe 14 5
Literature
matchless
sometimes people leave and you just
can't do anything about it.
they leave behind a chill in the air where
their body warmth used to be
and you can light fires and candles and
shine spotlights in place of them
but it will never feel the same.
i learned that the hard way.
he decided one morning that he was ready
to leave,
and i saw it in the shadows in his eyes and
i decided i wasn't ready to let him.
he brought kerosene in
water bottles and hid
matches in his jacket pocket and tried to burn the bridges
but i put them out with extinguishers and
painted over the burn marks so i could pretend
they weren't there.
he felt bad because he didn't want to hurt me and
i felt bad because i didn't want him to be hurting but
i didn't want to be hurting either even though i knew
one of us was going to get burned by the end of it
(there shouldn't have been any question of who
it would be, but
i was desperate and i didn't want him to leave)
so there was no communication.
he did all he could to bring i
:iconcatloversjt:catloversjt
:iconcatloversjt:catloversjt 29 9
Literature
an atheist's guide to grieving you
i.   let your soliloquies be private,
a prayer to trees and trees alone--
cargo shorts,
baby hairs,
everywhere soft.
tuck it away:
that song by the kills,
muffled sex under blankets,
apologies through gritted teeth
ii.   when the news arrives,
remember this was not special.
a hundred other girls spoke
sottovoce
into his mouth,
felt the blue valley
of his collarbone
iii.   watch
but say nothing
as they stumble over his pronoun
& still pinch tiny rainbow pins at his funeral.
iv.   flinch every time you see an ongoing truck
v.   remember him at all the wrong times:
drunk with friends,
making breakfast,
masturbating
vii.   put that record on
& pray
too
loud
:iconignotism:ignotism
:iconignotism:ignotism 23 4
Literature
every stranger wears a crown
every man believes
himself a lion
                   (an expert
                    and conqueror)
master of some empire,
forever the subject of his own sentence:
to live life from the inside out.
:iconhypermagical:hypermagical
:iconhypermagical:hypermagical 5 0

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Activity


220 deviations
i said i'd stop spending money but i'm going to see mst3k live next month oops
don't it always end like this
blue on blue on blues
hello, river
hello, wine
dear jazz band, sweep me into your arms and far away
lipstick smeared boozy brain,
blurry ride to west end avenue
hello, new york
don't it always end like this?
within and without
may or may not have had a nice saturday with a for real actor and he was wonderful
Loading...
you look g     r     e     a     t
they say, words dripping and pooling at my feet,
hungry eyes raking jutting hip bones
setting their envy on the shelf of my clavicle
and i smile and i smile and i smile through sewn-shut lips
i am crying for Help Me Please Oh My God but no one will let themselves hear me
i replay every shred of evidence like a washed-out surveillance tape,
devour clues that have been there all along for my breakfast-
filigree lies have become afternoon snacks, perfect and polished on silver trays
i am dying and i look great
sweeney was PHENOMENAL 

norm lewis yelled at me. carolee carmello held a butcher knife to my head. truly the best production of sweeney todd 

i already have tickets to go back and i'm looking into going a second time this is the only thing i care about

norm is the first truly angry, raging sweeney i've seen and i LOVED it. he's a big, imposing guy up close (but so sweet when he's not in character, i've never met a man with a kinder heart !!) and even more terrifying when he's an inch from your face going "HOW ABOUT A SHAVE". the tiny space rang with his angry screams while he fought to keep mrs lovett in the oven (a gruesomely wonderful little addition, imo) and wow he's just perfect

carolee is by far my favorite lovett. a lot of actresses tend to overplay the comedic aspects of the character, but she allowed this subtle emotional vulnerability that just really got me. mrs lovett is such a complex character, and carolee really blew me away with her portrayal. she let the comedy come naturally and in the delivery and never once overdid it, which is something i can't say for most lovetts. it wasn't like "oh, that's carolee carmello playing mrs lovett", it was like "no that's mrs lovett herself" and i am beyond impressed

john-michael lyles is the sweetest toby, he's such a precious ray of sunshine!

jamie jackson was a horrible terrible judge turpin- as he's meant to be! the way the candles cast shadows on his face during mea culpa chilled me to the bone and made my skin crawl. after the show, however, he was so sweet and lovely, and i'm so glad i got the chance to talk with him.

they had the audience go into the lobby during intermission and began act two by having toby jump onto the counter, bang a spoon on a pot to get our attention, and burst into God That's Good and usher us back into the new-and-improved pie shop. speaking of the pies, they're to DIE for (lmao) and the entire experience was so immersive and so unique. i'll never have a better experience as long as i live
i said i'd stop spending money but i'm going to see mst3k live next month oops

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singagainsoon
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Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind


my insta is mrslovettts

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Add a Comment:
 
:iconhypermagical:
hypermagical Featured By Owner May 2, 2017
Thank you for the recent faves! :ahoy:
Reply
:iconpatchworklynx:
PatchworkLynx Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2017   Writer
Happy birthday!!! (\(^.^)/)
Reply
:iconsingagainsoon:
singagainsoon Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
thank u!! :la:
Reply
:iconithaswhatitisnt:
ithaswhatitisnt Featured By Owner Apr 17, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
happy birthday, beautiful!! :tighthug: :heart: :iconrainbowcakeplz: i hope you have a lovely day because you deserve it!!! <3 <3
Reply
:iconsingagainsoon:
singagainsoon Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
AH thank you so much :heart:
Reply
:iconcatloversjt:
catloversjt Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2017   Writer
thank you so much for the fave on my poem!! I really appreciate it :heart: and I hope you enjoy the rest of your week <3
Reply
:iconithaswhatitisnt:
ithaswhatitisnt Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
i thought i was watching you and i wasn't D: i'm so sorry about that.  

thank you ever so much for the watch and llama, and i'm so sorry i wasn't watching you sooner! :tighthug: <3
Reply
:iconsingagainsoon:
singagainsoon Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
oh that's perfectly alright! i've seen you around and i always just assumed i was watching you too! :hug:
Reply
:iconmagnoliabirch:
magnoliabirch Featured By Owner May 31, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I love your icon! So cute! :heart:
Reply
:iconsingagainsoon:
singagainsoon Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you :heart:
Reply
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