ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
i'll smoke on your love, if you let me.
i'll inhale you whole and breathe you into
my lungs and you'll take the form of a tar
like substance.
when i walk down the road, i'll stroll down
the middle, toe behind heel right down
the
yellow
line
with
you
behind.
i can fold you into every crease of a paper
crane that i'll learn to make at a craft store,
where all the moms hang out.
where i won't fit in.
but i will do it for you.
your love will weave its self into my bones,
color bleeding into the skin that stretches over them,
turning me into a canvas for emotions
you hold near and dear.
but when i stand out in the cold, on the porch, when you're asleep in our bed - i will hold the cigarette up to my lips and inhale the smoke that is not tainted with your love.
i'll inhale you whole and breathe you into
my lungs and you'll take the form of a tar
like substance.
when i walk down the road, i'll stroll down
the middle, toe behind heel right down
the
yellow
line
with
you
behind.
i can fold you into every crease of a paper
crane that i'll learn to make at a craft store,
where all the moms hang out.
where i won't fit in.
but i will do it for you.
your love will weave its self into my bones,
color bleeding into the skin that stretches over them,
turning me into a canvas for emotions
you hold near and dear.
but when i stand out in the cold, on the porch, when you're asleep in our bed - i will hold the cigarette up to my lips and inhale the smoke that is not tainted with your love.
Literature
More
It's the way her hair falls over her eyes
It's the way you know shes empty to the core inside
It's how her knees hit the floor
How she holds her head shaking for something more
As she walks down that street her shadow tips and dips
The truth is more is never enough
What is more to you? What is not enough? Tell her.
Tell the lonely girl with her knees on the floor holding her head begging for more
Literature
Lovegrass
Her grip so tight my knuckles ache
with each pull and swing we bound
off one another,
a twirl here,
and a jive there,
to bring us back around,
(in Time)
to the bass note that I feel to my heel.
It's a Thunder in the chest that leaves no choice
Like muscle m
Literature
9mm
Love is a weapon and it constantly shoots me down.
Bang. Bang.
It's left me beyond repair.
Suggested Collections
even though you are flowing in me, my thoughts are my own.
© 2010 - 2024 MissSarah15
Comments12
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In