Why?
Why aren’t I coming up for air?
I can swim
I know how to swim
I’m supposed to be floating up
why aren’t I floating up?
I’m not moving
my arms and legs are flailing
I should be moving
my leg!
I can’t move it like the rest of my body
A chain?
it’s heavy
my chest
the water
everything’s crushing me
Why are you all staring?
help me
don’t just watch me
why are you laughing?
why are you walking away?
no no no no no no no
It hurts
my throat
I’m being strangled
please, please make it stop
I can’t hold it anymore!
From the surface, a bubble pops
and the party goes on
I wish I took more time to notice how lonely Isaac was. Loud and witty, one would have thought that he would constantly be surrounded by hoard of laughing friends. In a way, he was… but they laughed at him more than with him.
People made fun of his reactions more than anything. Describing him as expressive just covered the surface of how he showed his feelings. When he was surprised, everyone knew he was surprised. He just had this way of saying, “What?!” that made it seem like it was the first time he’d ever heard of what he just did. His laugh was just a bit too boisterous for anyone’s taste, whether the actua
Deviating from the dread of despondency
to dabble deep into the darkness
disappointing defeat becomes disproportionate
to the diabolic divinity of daydreams
Irrational impulses irritate idealists,
an independent ideology is impudence!
ignoring their infinite, idiotic inputs
an inspiration ignites the impending insurgency
Acclaiming the abysmal amplifies anomie
so against the assimilation of arrogant antagonists
an army advances, arms ablaze
aiming to author an active age of art
The Girl in the White Dress by RoamingShadow, literature
Literature
The Girl in the White Dress
She is gorgeous; everything about her is magnificent today. Her hair, her make up, and her dress – all perfect! As it should be on her long-awaited wedding day. Everyone is surprised that she has not shed a single tear, and frankly so is she. Some say it is because she is an ugly crier, and the mascara trails would ruin the cream and roses look she has painstakingly aimed to achieve. Others think she is overwhelmed by emotion, feeling far too much to bawl. The outburst will come later when the ceremony is done, they believe. But they are all wrong. Her fiancé has always hated seeing her cry, so she will not shed a single tear. Ther
Holiday Horrors: Mothers' Day by RoamingShadow, literature
Literature
Holiday Horrors: Mothers' Day
Mom said all she wants is to hold her baby’s hand again. So on the morning of Mothers’ Day, I visited the child cemetery and chopped the hand off my little brother’s corpse.
Life is about abandoning hopes and dreams
it is a mistake to believe that
the most childish wishes will come true one day
Ambition can get you anywhere you want to go
that is a lie
“You have to throw away impossible goals, and accept reality”
Those toughened by the world will tell you
Be everything you want to be
Express yourself
Seek fame, fortune, and love
Thoughts like these will only limit you
You cannot save a life
You cannot change the world
You cannot be special
You cannot be who you want to be
Happiness will come
but
Life will take everything away
No matter how much you think otherwise
The same fear has always been at the back of my mind, a recurring nightmare from long ago. It wasn’t my eventual death that terrified me, but the slow and agonizing torture before the end.
The desperate struggling, the begging. The pleas left ignored as I’m held back by hands… by chains. The pounding of each nail on the lid, sealing my fate forever. The banging and yelling, calling for help from anyone who could hear me. The scraping, bloody fingernails on wood. The drop, the heavy thud landing six feet below. Each shovel packing more and more of the earth, burying me alive. The suffocation and claustrophobia… oh god,
When her mom went to check the mail at breakfast, she returned with a thin box in her arms.
It was a package from her father.
Her dad was sort of like a traveler... at least, that was what she assumed he was. His job always had him jumping from city to city, country to country. He'd been to almost everywhere around the world, and every few weeks, he would send her a letter with a little souvenir from his stay. This time, it was a miniature Eiffel Tower.
So he's in France again, she mused, studying the two-foot tall replica. A small chuckle escaped her lips. It was about time he remembered to get it for her! He really should've thought of b
Hello people of dA! I've had a good run on this site; I've made a lot of good (and not so good) memories here over the years. However, deviantArt just doesn't have the same feel as it did when I joined more than half a decade ago. That said, I'm officially moving to AO3 and Tumblr as I'm doing most of my writing for Yuri!!! On Ice at the moment. I may move my current works there too.
If any of you want to find me on AO3, Tumblr, or Twitter, I go by cROAissant in all of them :D
It's February 13th which means it's that time of the year again and your special day is here! We hope you have an awesome day with lots of birthday fun, gifts, happiness and most definitely, lots of cake! Here's to another year!
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