

Copper StormUnder the greying clouds we sit The bare, black trees claw at the violent sky. I can hear the sharp secrets of the wind. Sweeping your dark hair when they speak. Hiding the truth from the dying leaves. As they lie crushed in mock-warmth. Beneath us. While we rest side by side.Copper Storm
In the dull light. And I study the faraway look in your eye. I wonder where you are in your mind. The breeze whips the leaves and they fall like copper snow. A brutal purity of a world of thoughtful silence.
And I'm glad it's just us, alone. So I close my eyes, just for a m


Cold MetalCold MetalCold Metal
She fondles the metal. The barrels are cold and reassuring. For a while, she wonders if she is doing the right thing. A memory slips into her conscious mind, unprompted.
She is lying on the floor, in a tight ball as protection against his fists and feet. He grabs her and pulls her up and shakes her. Her feet aren’t even touching the ground. Her head feels like –
As her hands form fists, she knocks a loose bullet off the table and it clinks on the floor, bringing her back to the present. She looks down at it and doesn’t move. The memory has shaken her. She wants to run. Sometimes she can escape


Darling, You're BlindDarling, you're perfect But you're so blind Why don't you see her the way she sees you? Darling, you're incorrect You're getting what you want Not finding what you need And darling She needs you But neither of you get what you need Cause she needs you Your being And you need her Because that could be PerfectionDarling, You're Blind
Oh, wait. Too late.
Well, thanks for all your support
Anyway...end rambling!
--
Weave a circle round him thrice
And close your eyes with holy dread;
For he on honeydew hath fed
And drunk the milk of paradise.
-Coleridge, S.T. "Kubla Kahn"
Random Deviant Hello
The best thing about being an artist is that you don't have to grow up to be one
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Spread The Love, visit a Random Deviant [link]
"God's the real artist, I just hold the pencil."
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Weave a circle round him thrice
And close your eyes with holy dread;
For he on honeydew hath fed
And drunk the milk of paradise.
-Coleridge, S.T. "Kubla Kahn"
--
When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.
*checks stats*
Ah, right, it's because you're new.
Well in that case... welcome to dA!
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No trees were killed in the sending of this message. However, a large number of electrons were terribly inconvenienced.
Give and receive art: Secret Santa 09
ALL abilities, ALL media welcome!
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I swear! The monkeys really did do it! <.< >.> Maybe...
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