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Literature
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oh to be the bruises stamped on the white of your neck
impossibly close to the thrum of your tiny-bird pulse
fluttering, excited beneath the greedy gnash of my teeth
your hair, dearest, is choppy in my jealous fingers
grasping, blind, at violin bow strings
can you feel my heart trembling in my chest
pressed warm and squelched sticky between the gaps in your cracking ribs
bursting like july
the idea of you is enough to put white-hot stars behind the thin skin of my eyelids
but your chapped-marble lips send galaxies shooting through my nerves and i am drunk on the infinite sweetness of being
i have flayed myself, laid every bleeding, drumbeat organ out for your careful, cautious inspection
my blood on your fingers is love, is love, is love
you are here and that, too, is love but
if i tell you that i love you,
that i want to kill us both,
to fan my dying breath across the sculpted androgyny of your much-dreamt face
and bury our skeletons in the same six-foot-hole
w
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 2 0
Literature
letters
i would rather wait in agony by the frosted pane of my front door for a letter in your chicken-scratch script
than be trapped in the confines of my head, biding the too-long hours for a text 
or a call;
at least, then,
i might pretend the mail was delayed
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 1 0
Literature
mania
we are god and the universe and everything within us expands into stardust-
david bowie himself told me so, whispered to my soul in a dream that was not a dream.
our joined hands and boozy smiles gleam in the streetlight, badges of honor, symbols of untouchable heroism
we are magic and light and love, the brassy croon of jazz in a dark bar where we stand folded into each other in the corner
our drinks are glittering galaxies, swirling and swishing and filling the hollows between every cracking rib
the city pulses beneath our feet, drumming in time with my heart squished red and bloody against your own
everyone on earth has been waiting for us
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 0 0
Literature
eleven thirty three
why must i be a poet, 
i sigh and drip through the cracks in the window
summer is a blanket, thick and heavy
i will love you the only way i can-
peppered with words like kisses,
laid immortal between two covers
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 2 2
Literature
b side
new york has swept me into its arms,
pressed me to its never-sleeping softly-beating chest
kissed the top of my head and folded me
oh to love and love and love
to be loved without words
to be dangling, spinning, wondering above the thrum and pulse of life and living
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 4 0
Literature
hey - apologizing, other business
i take my job very seriously,
i take my life very seriously,
do not scribble your half-assed apology in blunt pencil
so you can erase it later when cruelty bites your neck in the deep of the night like the lover you left me for
do not think the careless damage you caused can be so easily rebuilt, hurricane girl
you razed my town and smashed its buildings- even the house where i grew up was broken
you passed through my quiet streets and left me to pick up the rubble with my bare and bleeding hands
you say i float through what's left of your dreams, the gentle ghost of christmases past-
i hope i haunt you until the last breath leaves your body
i will not be sorry
and I will not pretend that i am
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon
:iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 3 2
the demon baker of ? by singagainsoon the demon baker of ? :iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 3 0 swilson by singagainsoon swilson :iconsingagainsoon:singagainsoon 9 0
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 5
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 5 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

Favourites

Literature
interest
lovely timbre of hands,
graceful stanzas,
and words like
the world takes notice.
i’m only at the eyes,
only the corners and how
objects are caressed
in space.
placement of angles,
the emanation of self
and effacement of
all other motion.
soft, subtle glow
of warm lips upturned
as the image burns
into welcome ache.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 18 5
Literature
the breakup you see on tv
we are both tired and
rough-edged and broken
and we know we are wrong
i know how to say "i love you
and i love you and i love you, but
this hurts more than i can handle"
but i don't know how to
say "i'm sorry,
i just don't know how
to give you what you need"
this is not the breakup you see on tv
we are far, far apart (no close ups)
we are hanging from our fingertips at 1am
and mumbling false forgiveness
in quick-fingered keystrokes
we are hurting
and we don't get enough sleep
we don't know how to say "i was never
right for you in the first damn place"
and by God
that's what hurts the most.
:iconhypermagical:hypermagical
:iconhypermagical:hypermagical 19 13
Literature
Zealot
there is poetry in brutal efficiency, an art to torment and death.
i swore an oath, in years long gone by,
to carve scars in the skin of the world-
to make them bleed for what they have done to you.
tell me who you wish to kill, and i will eat their hearts.
:iconMercuryStarlight:MercuryStarlight
:iconmercurystarlight:MercuryStarlight 1 0
Literature
reverse renaissance
… and we’re naming our pets after dead luminaries      
biting our lips and suffering
the irresistible bliss of misplaced perspective
                          [yet who could be happier]
living each day as prescribed
by the infinite regressions of infinitely
improbable gods – or the water cycle within          
lop-sided magic 8-balls
iconoclastic
re-wiring our brains to exist
in a vacuum, like savages
tied to a pendulum and told
that the past is our greatest enemy
                                 [and still who could be happier]
than a shark in this shallow gene
pool of vacant deepities
chasing the antipodal scent of fresh blood                  
across boundless horizons
through absolute zero
and far beyond the lunatic fringe –
o
:iconthesquareroot:thesquareroot
:iconthesquareroot:thesquareroot 9 10
Literature
october
fell out of  the window
who hadn't meant to meet
had gone to talk to
   goners of
the elements of
      speech.

an abreaction to clouds
and wind, the sound of birds;
it used to be a lightswitch
that ends the universe
  and begins it again.
it used to be atmosphere
in this cupboard, --
      of old wounds
--labyrinthian, utopian
         dreamcity.
(i fell into a garden
     did
statistics on the streets
to find which one
 was traveled by
statistically the least)

i found an unmappable hell
of what becomes and dumbly disappears,
that which impossibly lives
               within the light.
 in oceans of portals,
to violence and nowhere.
I bought minutes for my phone.
I wandered around main street.
   It was a slow day
     and I am tired.

i'd fallen
:iconmuteloop:muteloop
:iconmuteloop:muteloop 9 6
Literature
east hall
& they’re paying me dust
in this checkerboard city
but i don’t mind;
our steps land hard
in harbor like
we mean more
than we are.
& they’re baying; i rust
with the porcelain pity
that they can’t find
so they stand, starred
but smarter:
oh, i bleed more
than i scar
:iconpeaseblossoms:peaseblossoms
:iconpeaseblossoms:peaseblossoms 19 7
Journal
My Daily Deviation Highlights XXI
Mrs-Durden started a project to share our favorite DD's and feature them in a journal. Something we volunteers can do and everyone else who would love to join in to show our love of Daily Deviations and fellow artists.



Full Fathom Five by MattDixon Zilit by Pechschwinge
Victorian lady by corsuse The Great Houses - Ashlander by Isugi Whitby Abbey by michael-d-beckwith
Gray Mood by zippip GHOST IN THE SHELL by RUIZBURGOS rest in pieces by singagainsoon
You can find the original journal here and remember to use the hashtag #DDHighlights so we can find your journals!
My Daily Deviation Highlights by Mrs-Durden
:iconmorbidman187:morbidman187
:iconmorbidman187:morbidman187 3 3
Mature content
virgin thoughts :iconalessiah:Alessiah 22 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 13 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 16 15
Mature content
rapture :iconphantomtigers:Phantomtigers 4 7
Literature
der 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 14 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 25 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 75 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

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if you wanna keep up with me on twitter, follow me @/mooneyscatpies and comment ur twitter username (handle ?? idk) and i'll follow you

oh to be the bruises stamped on the white of your neck

impossibly close to the thrum of your tiny-bird pulse

fluttering, excited beneath the greedy gnash of my teeth

your hair, dearest, is choppy in my jealous fingers

grasping, blind, at violin bow strings

can you feel my heart trembling in my chest

pressed warm and squelched sticky between the gaps in your cracking ribs

bursting like july

the idea of you is enough to put white-hot stars behind the thin skin of my eyelids

but your chapped-marble lips send galaxies shooting through my nerves and i am drunk on the infinite sweetness of being

i have flayed myself, laid every bleeding, drumbeat organ out for your careful, cautious inspection

my blood on your fingers is love, is love, is love

you are here and that, too, is love but

if i tell you that i love you,

that i want to kill us both,

to fan my dying breath across the sculpted androgyny of your much-dreamt face

and bury our skeletons in the same six-foot-hole

would it become a weapon?

218 deviations
i would rather wait in agony by the frosted pane of my front door for a letter in your chicken-scratch script
than be trapped in the confines of my head, biding the too-long hours for a text 
or a call;
at least, then,
i might pretend the mail was delayed
we are god and the universe and everything within us expands into stardust-
david bowie himself told me so, whispered to my soul in a dream that was not a dream.
our joined hands and boozy smiles gleam in the streetlight, badges of honor, symbols of untouchable heroism
we are magic and light and love, the brassy croon of jazz in a dark bar where we stand folded into each other in the corner
our drinks are glittering galaxies, swirling and swishing and filling the hollows between every cracking rib
the city pulses beneath our feet, drumming in time with my heart squished red and bloody against your own
everyone on earth has been waiting for us
i said i'd stop spending money but i'm going to see mst3k live next month oops

deviantID

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


my insta is beadlesbamford

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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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