Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

She doesn't cry anymore

Deviation Actions

AmeliadosSantos

Published: Jun 15, 2012

556 Views

Literature Text

"I guess I just moved on."

More by AmeliadosSantos

Literature

A beleza no triste

Em frente à sua casa, insegura como sempre estive, cruzei o portão que me separava de você. Eu entrei e vi o sorriso da mulher que te trouxe ao mundo, o sofá onde costumávamos conversar, a mesa onde me foi servida aceitação e gentileza, o tapete sobre o qual te entreguei meus segredos mais confusos naquele dia trêmulo de cumplicidade, e vi você ali, parado, o homem feito de mar. Homem este que é meu, até que se prove o contrário. Saboreei a brisa salgada na sua respiração. Afundei no azul dos seus olhos. Senti a vida se esvair do meu ser quando sua mão de rochas toc

Recommended Literature

Literature

My Only Regret is Who I've Become

I wish I wasn’t so afraid. I wish I wasn’t so afraid of love. I wish that it could have been easy, I wish that I could have let him in. I wish that I didn’t have to hide. I run, But I wish that I didn’t. ‘Cause each time I do, I’m throwing away something worth keeping, But I’m just too afraid. I’m terrified of giving someone the power to hurt me. I hate being so weak. I wish I could stand up to myself-make sure that I won’t leave until I have to, I wish I could make myself fall in love again. I wish I knew how to trust again, But it’s hard to do when everyone you’v

Literature

I want nothing but death

After the three hundred and sixty fifth setting sun since everything became undone, maybe now I have gathered enough pieces of my ether and stationary paper to write you a true goodbye letter. I would write you starting with the weather today, where the skies are caliginous and the clouds are heavy basins ready to tip over in tears, much like my eyelids. I dig my toes deeply in the damp terra firma as I remember you. I would write you in snapshot sentences. I would go about how you've converted my vision into a chiaroscuro religion; shifting all light and attention around me to focus in on only you. I would write you in portrait paragraphs

Literature

do not tell me i am not broken

i need people to stop telling me that i am not broken that i am not cracked open and spilling out of the shell they created for me the shell that clings and suffocates me i need them to stop saying that they'll fix the splits that they'll fill them in with concrete and make it better because i am drowning in people who think that they are supportive that think i am theirs to mold and shape i am not a vase, i am broken china smashing against the ground over and over in frustration because i cannot be the kind of beautiful that you want to be you cannot paint over me and expect the sharp tongue and the hard eyes to go away i am broken i am spi

Suggested Collections

poetry

Literature

The Bus Stop Dialogues

I. A young man at the bus stop turns to me and softly asks "Why aren't you wearing shoes?" He taps the faded leather of his suedo-skin and his eyes smile in a gentle lilt before his mouth does. I tell him that I like to feel the earth breathe. That textures keep my mind alive and ticking like a clock. I tell him that I'm trying to grow roots so my pale limbs can twist into a tree (the way L and I talked about it in therapy). I tell him that my soul is lonely and the ground is the only thing that's always there. I tell him that bare skin is sensitive and stroking it with every (twelfth) step is a soothing form of self-care

Literature

Schizophrenia

Voices whisper in your ear; Sweetest nothings, greatest fears. All your life your friend is there, Waiting with a tale to share. Threats are blown into the air, Ever present, meant to scare. Someone tails your every move; A hidden fiend, free to rove. Disembodied voices say: Never dare to disobey. Your friend arrives with a grin, A plan in mind, a great sin. Trembling grips your paling hand. Someone whispers their command. Terrified, you call to me, Hoping I can set you free. But as you point out your friend, Wishing that this all would end, My answer renews your fear: I see no one standing there.

Literature

Schizophrenia

Holding on to a thought has always been... difficult for me. They're so rarely interesting enough to hold my attention for more than a few seconds. Quite often, I'll tune out what someone is saying because something they said sparks a thought which leads to another thought which leads to another thought... No, I don't get distracted by shiny objects. I'm a human, not a magpie. I never really cared that I wasn't listening to what people were saying. My thoughts, as cascading as they are, were always more interesting than they were. Eventually, I did away with people entirely, living in my own stream of consciousness. Even now, it is difficul

Poetry

Literature

Where the Sun and Moon Meet

Title: Where the Sun and Moon Meet Fandom: None Character: None Genre: Angst, letting go Warnings: Suicide trigger (attempted) There is a street in front of me. Cars speed past me on their way to the festival that is just across the road. If I time myself right, I can walk into oncoming traffic… and see my brother again. I can give him these years back. I don’t want them; they aren’t mine. I take a small step forward, and then shuffle across the cement until I am standing in the middle of the road, waiting for a car. As one approaches, I wonder what will happen. Will th

Literature

true love is slow to anger.

Her grace was an enigma, a fog. Leaving him completely lost when it came to how and who she was. And yet, she adored him. This woman, whom left him completely dumbfounded, stars in his eyes and all. This woman— Loved him. He pressed his fingers to his lips and mouthed the words, just so he could feel them against his skin. ‘she loves me’ ‘she loves me’ --loves me --loves me Love. Drives everyone, whether it be for good or ill. The love he and this woman shared was a good love. A true love. ‘my dear,’ she whispers, touching his cheek. ‘my love for you burns brighter than the sun.&#

Literature

i hear the thunder rolling in

sweet smell of cut grass floating through the window, soft sound of cars passing by and distant music pumping through speakers strong and quick, the backbone of the wind, carrying voices and laughter from three floors down; and i can't see it but i imagine the way the world is turning, churning, people moving like ants - so insignificant but so significant to me, a nail in the coffin of the universe and the a holy grail of what is yet to come. hot tea and beeping microwaves frame the day and soft blankets whisper gently over bedsheets, sleep-time now, phones down eyes closed, take a moment to lose yourself in the beauty of the day (sun

Favourite Writings

Literature

Thanks for Nothing and Everything [Izark x Noriko]

The world Noriko had accustomed herself to had strange holidays that made no sense to a modern, Tokyo-fuddled mind. Festivals for spring, summer, for winter... they were similar in some ways, but generally based on concepts completely unique to the culture. Especially the fall Harvest festivals rampant the continent over; they were quite kin to the American "Thanksgiving," but still celebrated differently. The thought of "staying home with family" was absurd. Every man, woman and child was out and about in town, hurriedly preparing for a massive celebration; the food, the drink, the fellowship with friends and comrades, the overwhelmingly

Literature

Happy birthday Adrien

Another day, another akuma purified. Like Clockwork almost, Ladybug and Cat Noir worked together to defeat the "Collector" who had wanted to shrink landmarks and people for their collection. After the token fistbump, they prepared to go their separate ways, but before she could swing off, Cat Noir grabbed Ladybug's arm. "Say, doing anything tomorrow, m'lady?" She looked at his hand then back at his face, "Not in particular, why?" Cat let go of her arm, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Well, if you're not busy, I was wondering if we could hang out or something." Ladybug frowned, crossing her arms. "Asking me out on a DATE?" C

Literature

Miraculous 16

Marinette couldn't believe it; she would be turning sixteen soon. A lot has happened within the past year. Meeting Tikki and becoming the hero of Paris, Ladybug. Gaining a fantastic, albeit annoying, partner in Chat Noir. Meeting Adrien and forming the biggest crush on him but having a hard time speaking to him. It did get better though; through her best friend Alya's encouragement and a few partner assignments, they have a more comfortable friendship but she still was afraid to tell him her true feelings. Well, that will come when she's ready. Right now, she's trying to decide whether or not she wanted a party. She went to Chloe's Sweet 1

Featured in Groups

another six-word story. hope you like it as much as the previous one! (they're not a sequence, obviously)

Comments27

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

FaeLuna13

Jun 28, 2012

It's very peaceful and serene, with that dark tint to it. It also is so very common. I know so many people who can relate to this.

DeviantArt - Homepage

DeviantArt Facebook DeviantArt X DeviantArt Instagram

About Contact Core Membership DeviantArt Protect

Developers Advertise Terms of Service Etiquette

Careers Privacy Policy Copyright Policy Help and FAQ

Watch Team and join our Community Group for the latest updates and activities.

Join Community