50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

literature

Letter to a little girl

Deviation Actions

EternalSunday

Published: Nov 30, 2011

377 Views

Literature Text

Disappointed, huh?

Do it better yourself...

More by EternalSunday

Literature

reductionism

1. it makes more sense as a clear cut divide, a neatly drawn line between the one and the other, like oil and water refusing to merge. but truth refuses to simplify itself to suit our whims - it won't bend or break no matter how hard we hammer at it, no matter how much sweat gathers at our brows while we try to reason with it, (while we plead for mercy.) 2. in mirrors i'm faced with two distinct entities forced to occupy the same tumultous space, mind and body hunched in opposite trenches, forever at the brink of war. but in reality. i am not something that can be cut apart so easily. and i know this. i know this. yet the reflection lingers behind my eyelids as if promising triumphant battle. 3. there is no before and after, no sharp contrast that marks peace from war - nor even a timelapse of shifting moments connecting past to present. instead, it all intertwines into a web of tangled knots that i struggle to locate myself within. i ask myself - when did

Recommended Literature

Literature

waterproof

sea foam regrets wash this lacerated heart with saline baptisms of undying love (and etch their wretched revelations on mausoleum walls). your ancient ruins still stand undefeated by impudent waves (like overexposed polaroids showcased in empty exhibitions). and it's futile exorcising my heart of your remnants (because all graveyards need ghosts to haunt them).

Literature

consecrate

authenticity an arsenic in morning coffee, in the smiles pressed like ironed laundry, because I feel like one wrong breath, one wrong kiss between glossed lips and soft jaws and I will be nailed to a cross deception a shame rising like steam, where teeth grind against each other like clockwork gears, tick tick ticking while the tongue kisses the roof of its cathedral like a prayer to gods yet to be named because her face is a mosaic window shining the sin out of love

Literature

snowglobe

we hoped it would get bad enough to break glass that one of our voices would find the note to split the window make a neighbour call the cops that the dishes would shatter into too many pieces to be picked off the floor we wanted glass in our heels a trickle of heat a flicker of colour in the sun-blank snow the pines leaned on our doorframe we waited for them to pressure in and unfurl shower our stunned faces in a rain of needles  knock the teapot off the table in a blossom of shards but the trees stood by  evergreen and identical the same dream of pine repeating behind yellowing plastic we painted shut the door with smi

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

A Robot Love Poem

01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100001 01110010 01101100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100101 01100001 01110010 00100000 01110011 01110111 01100101 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01100101 01110100 01100001 01101100 01101100 01101001 01100011 00100000 01101100 01100001 01100100 01111001 00100000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100

Literature

stormchaser

dear sarah, yesterday I tried to swallow the sun. it burned me up on the inside until even my skin was hot to the touch, and I thought of you. I hope you have found better ways than me to feel lighter. heaven knows there are days where I still trade my feet for concrete blocks and try to sprint to the finish line, but at least I have stopped straying towards the riverbanks. at least I get out of bed. most days, that’s enough. but if you tell me that most days life still feels like a choice you’re making every minute, I will tell you that I understand. I have spent years trying to outrun my sadness, sipping sunlight until my vision blurs and looking up only to realize I’ve been going in circles and calling it progress. every escape I ever made is a town I can never go back to and I’m not better for it. I carry so many graveyards around inside of me, and I’ve lost count of how many bridges I’ve burned because I confused loving with leaving. take my sadness away, I don’t

Literature

girls on a roof.

aphrodite passes the blunt to persephone, says you have to tell me how you did that, how you seduced hades and they sit there on the roof, the stars twinkling. persephone looks youthful in a way that’s untouched, as if she’s somehow eternally seventeen or made of sunshine. i didn’t have to do much, she says. and aphrodite who’s spent years reading gossip mags & articles about “ true love ” thinks about how she saw hades take off his leather jacket & wrap it around persephone’s shoulders, easy as breathing. kissed the side of her head. gave

Poetry

Literature

speechless

and who's to even know if I've gone ghost again together alone skin now silent where once my caress was comfort where once my hands were conductors of symphonies and sparks in the dark I felt you flinch my chest caved in despite lack of intention . we kiss closed off I no longer pull joy from you . it is not my lot to be missed so I'll softly fade while you shift you have taken the moon from my mouth

Literature

Tropical Sunrise

Today the sun rose slowly, Over the steamy sea. There were sounds of water lapping, As the tide crept close to me. Wet sand was intermittent as the water lapped the shore, The seagulls raced the water in Between the shells galore. The humidity is creeping up, The breeze is turning warm, The yachts and cats are still - In the waters, blue and calm. The day ahead is starting, the heat will creep up now, But enjoy the day beginning The night can take a bow! © vanndra 2021

Literature

Time

Today it is a pile of rocks, clay, and sand But once it was a mountain so tall and grand. Now it's just a stump and not much at all Though it was once a redwood so great and tall. Today it's a desert where no water can be found But it used to be the floor of an ancient ocean sound. Today it's just an island with very little to see But once it was a continent with lakes and trees. The waves of the sea turn the rocks into sand As do the glaciers grinding slowly across the land. Wood becomes dirt and rock becomes sand; Ground becomes ocean and sea becomes land. Stone into sand then sand into stone; Bone into soil and soil into bone. Nothing will stay the same; In time nothing will remain.

Featured in Groups

For the

52 Week Challenge - Week 47 - Write a letter to yourself (either younger or older).

I wrote to my younger self.

I haven't written a six word story in ages, and it's just as difficult as I remember...

At least I tried.

Feedback is always welcome!

Comments5

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

DottieOnTheMoon

Dec 1, 2011

Aw, snap. xD

DeviantArt - Homepage

DeviantArt Facebook DeviantArt Instagram DeviantArt Twitter

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