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English RoseA pressed blue sundress adores your body.
You are as delicate as the china tea cup before you,
Painted with purple and yellow pansies.
Your hand cups a flawless chin,
Perhaps you are contemplating
What shade of blue the sky is today.
Or listening to the pitter-patter of raindrops
Splashing against sun-baked cobblestones.
But it is what lays tucked under the teacups saucer
That explains your almost wistful expression.
A small stack of letters tied together with twine
Is just to the left of your teacup.
Maybe the reason for the downward tilt of your chin,
And the slight pout of red lips
Lies in the empty seat across from you.
You are contemplating the lack of love in your life.
I can observe it in the way your eyes glide over handsome mens physiques.
You are the single red rose in a garden of weeds.
A Black HeartYou are so beautiful
That it almost breaks
As people pass us by,
I can only hope that
They have caught a glimpse
Of what lays within.
An angel carved from
The finest alabaster,
But your heart is black
Winter’s chilling grasp
That creeps around our
You are so beautiful,
I gaze upon you
As if you had gone
And hung the stars.
It is a sure possibility.
But the inside cavities of
Your chest are plagued with
Is that blood on your hands, beloved?
You are so beautiful,
With a heart of stone,
And a thirst for blood that
Could chill any heart.
Baby BirdYour heart has packed its bags.
Luggage sitting beside the door,
Coat and scarf gone from the coat rack.
It is time to say goodbye,
But his heart is wounded.
It is the bird with a broken leg
That we found in the forest just yesterday.
He said, “We should take it home and nurse it
Back to health.”
The inside cavities of his heart acting on impulse.
But she had become disoriented in where they stood,
And the soft kisses that he pressed into her back
Felt more like licks of flames than a token of love.
So she packed away her heart,
And responded to him, trying not to break the one thing
She had loved most.
“It will die anyway. “
Significance Of YouPieces of you
Are still here residing
Underneath my personal
Perception of reality.
The way you took your coffee
Is still ingrained in my mind.
As is your God-awful shower singing,
But I think it all just made me
Love you more.
You would dog-ear brand new books,
And I would say that you were ruining them.
But you always smiled
And said that you were
Giving it some character.
You always had to have peppermint tea
While reading a book,
And I thought you were the world to me.
Pieces of you
Still appear in my memory.
The way you would chew the
Ends off of all of our pens until
I had to go out to the store and buy new ones,
But I didn’t mind,
Because you were the earth
And I was your moon.
Pulled to you in every sense of the word.
For Just A SecondIt is as if
You have already fallen.
Arms spread wide,
Breathless lungs still fluttering
Like butterfly wings,
From the lack
Your eyes see what is
Going to happen.
Two sisters laying in the grass
On a summers day.
One closes her eyes
For just a second,
Long eyelashes flutter against
Freckled dappled cheeks,
Before the other has
It is as if
He has already taken you hostage.
A muffled scream is your only response
To the large dark figure whose
Hands are rough against your skin,
But he gives out sticky sweet promises,
“You’re sister will be alright, darling.
You need not worry about her.
We’ll take care of her.”
One sister lying in the ground.
The other has dried tear tracks
Down her cheeks.
She has a dirty white handkerchief
Twisted in her small palm.
Bottom lip trembling,
Dark blue eyes full of tears,
And many lonely years ahead of her.
Afghanistan or Iraq?Here you stand alone.
Facing the oncoming storm.
Forecast says there will be bloodshed,
You prepare for battle.
Horses will be saddled up,
And hearts turned to stone.
For we are the knights galloping into battle.
Fast-forward a couple millenniums,
Bullets will tear through our chests,
A silent cry of help as you bled dry.
John Hamish Watson,
Deceased on November 4th, 2010.
Here you stand alone.
Elegant hair curls down around your ears,
And you clench your fists around the paper,
It crinkles in your grasp.
You are silently crying.
Beautiful DawnYou smiled at me on the trail this morning.
Red lips parted,
As if you were holding back
All you had to say.
And your eyes were twin lakes,
Twinkling in the light of dawn.
The noise of the train tracks rattling
Beneath our feet was the only reason why I told myself
"I'll get up the nerve to talk to you tomorrow."
It had been two weeks since you first turned
My life upside down,
For you were Beauty,
And I was the Beast.
Instant MessageIt is five in the morning
And dawn is just beginning
To caress the sky.
Your placid body lays
Bathed in the faint glow
My back is pressed up against
A polished wood headboard;
A guardian angle watching over you.
The rise and fall of your diaphragm
Reassures me of your permanent existence.
You are here, really here.
After every letter we’ve sent,
Every tear shed,
My love through the Internet,
Is here in my arms.
Chasing The RainIt is raining outside
When your car pulls up.
Raindrops cascading down,
Puddles wet and soppy.
The thick whole of your coat
Keeps the chill from escaping inside,
But your hands still get wet.
Gloves forgotten at a home far away,
Prior to the seven-hour flight,
Stale airplane food,
And a faster heartbeat.
The sound of your knock is faint,
As if you wished you hadn’t come
All this way,
Just to say goodbye.
Heart in my throat,
Feet frantic on the stairs,
I wrench open the door separating us.
No one’s there.
Just the empty porch,
The cheery porch swing I
And the rain falling from the sky.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More