Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

Faded Shades

Deviation Actions

Xaathel

Published: Feb 26, 2012

424 Views

Literature Text

The ghostly shades blew through the window;
faded fainted color painted years ago,
desperately trying to live again,
but failing description.

The purple of an aunt's kettle, everyone hated it, always leaked, staining pearly lace
with brown crappy coffee.

The green of hideous grandmotherly wallpaper that all her kids hated but
nobody cared enough to change, why ruin her scheming?
Purple kettle steaming

The red-white-red-white barberpole near Sam's that we
never really went to but it was so familiar till the place burned down
green wallpaper rotting

And this canticle of color did a line-reel over suburbia, blowing nothing
at all with the wind
and filled young hearts with ennui
so rightfully belonging to their elders.
Red and white mixed, peppermints,
roses on a grave.

More by Xaathel

Literature

Head and Heart

My heart is cold but feet are hot to trot The mold around my legs cracks and falls like Eggshells, I crush them with a step. One foot first, the way it always goes, Now the trick, the shift of weight, Shift, weight, shift, weight, shift, weight Wait There are no longer windows in this place Walled up with brick, mortar, think, quick! Too late, momentum gaining, knees-calves straining My opened hand outstretched, I push through Tear through Rip through the wall that divides length from width and time from space My heart is ice, my feet are keeping pace. This was a place designed for transit Made for communication, screaming to Reach out and

Recommended Literature

Literature

Not my Valentine

A day for lovers, a day for her Standing in the shadows I can see A night for two, and a night with you Cherishing now and what is to be... A candle light dinner, made just for two Walking, under the light of the moon Hand in hand, and heart to heart Back to the room, oh not too soon Looking in your eyes, your lips collide The mood is set, a flower on the bed Soft light, music, and her skin of silk A tender sweet kiss placed on lips of red Her dress cascades softly to the floor The air is filled with the scent of desire Red lace and curves she's a lovely goddess Taken with a lust that burns like a fire Her night is so perfect, ren

Literature

A Letter of Understanding

Dear Heart, Let us come to an understanding. Welcome to your wake up call. You are a fool. I'm sorry, but it is true. Life isn't a fairy tale. You knew this, always. There is no such thing as happy endings. The frog you wanted to kissed… he'd still be a frog. And that prince? He was perfect- sweet, smooth talking, a dream come true. Until you found out he was only charming; not sincere. Sitting on the steps as the dawn falls around you, waiting for him like in the movies? Honey, he's already moving on. Those tail lights you see driving away in your mind's eye? Yeah, they're his. Never trust love; never think for a minute it's true.

Literature

Logic of the Heart

It's not easy, looking at a situation in a logical sense. You're left on the outside, watching from a distance Listening to the whispers of regret Trying your hardest to just forget, but Emotions are omnipotent, they fuck with your reason. They cause your mind to commit unlawful treason, Upon yourself. Take the opportunity to dissect your decision:; It was an easy answer at the time But doubt is a rough bullet to chew. A choice is but a momentary instance, The aftermath is what lasts a life time. So you take that split second and record it, Perpetually playing it and pressing rewind. It's a goddamn war inside of your head, Games of the mind

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 favorites

DavidMnr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/davidmnr/art/Floraison-blossom-793735893DavidMnr

Literature

if i could invent words

i would like to create a word for what one feels when they realize: if we were birds, the only cage we would be in are the ones we create ourselves. how many times have our wings been clipped by our own hands alone. christ, i'm sorry. dear past self: i apologize for trying to define you; for definition is the metaphorical cage to change. the only limit the sky has is how far we can see.

Literature

nothing left but the paranoia

they say crows never forget and i am terrified this is true. see, the other week, i hit a crow with my car & they saw. they saw, and if they remember, then they know, and if they know, they will come. here is the thing: i am terrified they can see me & i am terrified they can not. my thoughts lately are a spiral, a maze, with an entrance but no exit. i am lost. i am lost, and they know. last week, i saw a cat, eating a crow, and in my mind, i am the cat, i am the crow, i am the car that hit the crow, i am my thoughts lost in my maze, and what if they see me.

Featured in Groups

Sunday night ennui hits everyone. No big deal. I'm about to go take a nap.

How do you think the stanzas worked in this piece? Weird? Well? Not at all? Kinda?