ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
the worst part about being nothing
is knowing nothing is commonplace
and, even though I thought I was so
special
I was exactly the same
I'll never say your name
because then this would feel real
and I would have to accept
that giving all I had
never meant a thing
does a wooden heart still beat,
or does it only leave splinters?
did you ever even think of me-
the weak girl who believed in
too many broken words?
s p i n e less
I'd bend to any shape
if I thought it would be enough
but when I was finally measured out,
I was found to be worth less
than a lie
I'm one of none, there's a
million voices that sound just
like they're my own. I know,
I didn't deserve the truth.
and I can promise that
however badly you must think
of my needly thoughts
and weary wishes--
I still think worse of myself.
I shouldn't expect answers from people
who cannot even give me
a passing thought
I don't understand this
architect's design [either]
sing me a lullaby
to make the mistakes go away
you'll never remember me.
I wouldn't want you to.
is knowing nothing is commonplace
and, even though I thought I was so
special
I was exactly the same
I'll never say your name
because then this would feel real
and I would have to accept
that giving all I had
never meant a thing
does a wooden heart still beat,
or does it only leave splinters?
did you ever even think of me-
the weak girl who believed in
too many broken words?
s p i n e less
I'd bend to any shape
if I thought it would be enough
but when I was finally measured out,
I was found to be worth less
than a lie
I'm one of none, there's a
million voices that sound just
like they're my own. I know,
I didn't deserve the truth.
and I can promise that
however badly you must think
of my needly thoughts
and weary wishes--
I still think worse of myself.
I shouldn't expect answers from people
who cannot even give me
a passing thought
I don't understand this
architect's design [either]
sing me a lullaby
to make the mistakes go away
you'll never remember me.
I wouldn't want you to.
Literature
Worthless (original poem)
You take me for a fool, a coward in your eyes
Yet take a look through mine, gaze upon what I despise.
A life broken and beaten, used and abused
No worth, no intrinsic value, dazed and confused.
Would you show pity, mercy for this disgrace?
With shame in my eyes, I divert my gaze.
With blood-soaked wrists, I search for a light.
Snuffed out in a flash, leaving me cold in the night.
Should I exist, breathe and love, though it be a lie?
Should I go for the jugular, hoping to see you cry?
Don't mourn for me, you do not deserve
To shed a single tear, and stain God's earth.
My time has come, the hour of doom at hand.
A touching tribute,
Literature
Six Word Story
Memories are for books, not hearts
Literature
lost.
Wandering,
waiting for your voice to
reach out for mine.
Fingertips of satin,
caressing the confines of my
soul;
whispering a thousand constellations to my waning sanity.
Promises upon promises,
mosaic labyrinths etched into mutilated
flesh.
Trembling lips — July's blasphemous sun
lingering above December's intangible moon,
and these looking-glass limbs scream for your
tongue to shatter me into one million
pieces.
Rose eyelashes; iron thorns and liquid petals
flutter open to the dull luster of our
salt-licked sarcophagus—
and in the end, your nebula fades away
in the disintegrating morning, just like my [heart] broken
heart.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
The worst thing about lies is that they make me question myself.
© 2012 - 2024 intricately-ordinary
Comments49
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
This was a well written piece. Emotional and sad and the thing about making one question is sadly right. But I would hope that you do not beleive in lies that much 
and have more self confidence!
and have more self confidence!