A Sigh Is A Groan Is A MoanA Sigh Is A Groan Is A Moan by PossumFan
I don't want to tell *you face to face how I feel about *you. How I just. I just *want* *you. Nothing else. I *want* *you. It's almost maddening. How *you pulse through my veins without a cause *you're just there. I would be forever warm in *your embrace. That's why I write about *you. It's because I'm way too shy to say all this to *your face, or even on the phone. *You *captivate* me, Sonny, so very much. *You make me shiver, make me feel indescribable emotions. I'm *glad* *you think me crazy, because in that we have a common factor. We understand, both *you and me, we *get* that I'm not (wri)gh(t(e)) in *my* head. Then again, *you make me this way. *You creep up in my mind late at night, and make me fondle my body in such a way that is taboo in some secret circles. Not mine. Not ever mine. In whatever ways I can express the passion and the dirty sinful hot moaning lustful mess that I am way too horny to clean up for *you baby I'm gonna do it. With every thought of *you, every
Notebook writing 27I think of *you in notes that don't exist. The way *you make me feel everything at once without actually being here, and being all the way over there, is utterly astounding. My dear if I could just write out my love for *you in a way that *you could comprehend and understand, maybe I finally would. Finally would stop all the wishing and daydreaming and longing to be within those arms of *yours. Maybe one day I'll conquer my fears... But not today.Notebook writing 27 by PossumFan
A Strong RevelationBeing with *you in the silence was the most prettiest thing ever. The most serene thing ever. If I could do it in reality, and not in a dream, I would. Hell, maybe we will be able to. No sex, no kissing, no making out. Just simply existing near each other. Sitting near one another and me leaning my head against *you. Would it be wasted if there was no making out involved? Honestly, no. That dream I had of *you was the most beautiful one I've had. If either one of us took the initiative to act any physicalities out, then so be it. There we would be. Of course, I doubt I could control myself around *you, alone, for more than 5 minutes. That would be torturing my poor heart and that's not really okay. There is this inhuman passion for *you that burns within my soul. I long for *you and I've said that more than once. I long to be with *you physically, not have *you on top of me fucking my heart out. I thought that's what I wanted. I thought I wanted *you to fuck me. (I do, but only when I'A Strong Revelation by PossumFan
Mind mumblingsTrying to sustain myself from *you is going to be so difficult. How my head is screaming all these things to *you, and I can do nothing but keep silent. Even then I know it may not be enough. Even then I know *you can't help but wonder, "What in God's name is she thinking?" I will never tell... Or maybe I will. Maybe I'll get brave. Brave enough to look into those gorgeous green eyes of *yours. Brave enough to grab *your face, gaze into *your soul, and tell *you that I love *you. That I want, and need *you in *that* way. Telling *you the truth about my heart. How I want *you to kiss me longingly and hold me tenderly and make love to me because I can't think of anything else that I'd rather *you do...Mind mumblings by PossumFan
heaven on earthGod moves in next door, which is unexpected. After the removals van is gone, she pops round to knock on the door with a plastic box of homemade cookies and asks if He needs a hand with anything.heaven on earth by wildfirepen
Sure, He says, looking at her and crinkling up His big green eyes in a wide smile. That'd be great.
They don't spare a glance for the cardboard boxes lying around, don't even consider unpacking – just sit on the sofa that barely fits into the hall where it's been dumped, laughing.
Three or four cookies later, she asks Him what He's doing in these parts.
Nothing much, He says. Just thought I'd come see how you were getting on.
Any plans? she wonders aloud.
God strums His lip a little. The gesture is such a ridiculous one that she laughs. Well, He admits, the Internet is pretty slow in Heaven.
She fetches her laptop from next door. God checks His Facebook and pauses briefly as his phone buzzes to answer a text.
So, she says. I was
saturnine"poetry doesn't get pussy anymore."saturnine by UnspecifiedUnknown
instead, us poets are thrown out of William Blake's door
casted out and isolated outside while the steady rain pours
and all we are left with is a bottle of Jameson and a pack of cigarettes
which you paid for.
we are quite content to sit and listen to you mention your admonition
about how our certain and particular profession is foolish.
you feel the need to remind each and every one of us that being arbitrary is not just;
you continue to construe that we are not good enough for you
and that no one can make a decent salary quoting Shelley, too.
you ask us constantly how much whiskey we drink in a given week, but
it's not the whiskey you should be worried about, honestly.
it's when we wait for winds to knock out your electric wires and return
your shitty modicum suburb complex back to reality is when you should worry.
but please don't mind me, love.
after my drink i will be walking home obliquely,
down nostalgic paths where my mother would push me on
I hope you say goodbye... If you should ever decide to deactivate your deviantART account, won't you please let some friends (or all of your Watchers) know first?I hope you say goodbye... by Edges-to-Everything
Is your deactivation temporary or permanent? Your friends and watchers would like to know if you'll be returning!
On the Literature side of , there is a group which is attempting to keep an eye on departures from our Friends lists. The group needs our help to report those deviants who's names suddenly have a 'strikeout' through them, signaling their departure.
Where Did They Go?
Please visit the Journal above and see if you recognize any of these deviants' usernames. Do you have any information on their departure? It is
Mansions of The MindWatch depthRADIUSMansions of The Mind by techgnotic
“Some use Ink, I confide in Silver”
— Lauren E. Simonutti
Quote by Lauren E. Simonutti
“ The misfirings of my beloved/despised mind that conspire to convince me to destroy all have rendered me housebound and led to a solitary life. A creature of past, proof, memory and imaginary friends, I am aware enough to know the things I see and hear are not real, but that does not mean I do not still see and hear them.”
For a very lon
Current Residence: LA... For now...|
Favorite genre of music: Anything Indie (except Indie Rock), Classic Country, Classical
Favorite photographer: None.
Favorite style of art: Literature
Music player of choice: iPod touch
Favorite cartoon character: None.
Personal Quote: You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. - Ray Bradbury
What I'm here on DA to do: Spill my heart, spill my mind, spill my soul to those willing and able to listen. To make friends. To read, and be read.