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About Varied / Hobbyist IsabelleFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 5 Years
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Statistics 408 Deviations 2,696 Comments 15,926 Pageviews

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I still mourn for the kid in me who didn't know better,
the kid who didn't learn better,
the girl whose no
was not stitched into her soul.

I mourn for her. She who preferred a boy to the echoless black,
she who quietly drowned under any touch at all.  

I know her, too, as the ghost who still follows.
A ghost who knows I have left behind that sweat-choked life,
that submergence under sea.

She stands behind my shoulders now, pale, small and smiling.
Glad to see
who I've become.
A Small Shadow
I always want my thirteen and fourteen year old self to know that I'm in a better place now. Sometimes I still feel the small shadow of her, following me.
I had a nightmare of the woods:
a group of friends and I
took a shortcut from the party
in a jeep, in twilight.

As soon as darkness descended,
little children-shaped beings emerged
with old-world clothing, elf caps, rorschach faces.
They shot dead vines from their wrists

binding us to trees, filling our mouths, drowning our jeep.

Once, when I wasn't dreaming, a friend and I got lost in the woods.
I watched the darkness fall around her hair
as we touched the trees to look for markers.
The lights peeping through the branches

told us there would be no snarl,
no chance we'd evaporate, lifeless, into sunlight.

We entered campus from a strange angle--
cars gleaming on pavement, the tall backs of dorms--

and emerged again into what we knew
as the clouds wove colors across the sky.
Friends aren't friends unless they get lost in the woods together. :heart:
holds memories of sickle moons and shining cars.
All day it hears carts rumble, children scream.
It watches bodies carry produce back to the mountains,
the cars following telephone poles like a river.

It might tell you that these people could be in an ant farm,
if the ants were slower, and smoked,
and looked as if they forgot where they were going.

When there are no bodies to hold, it closes its eyes
and imagines better colors for the stretched-out grey.
It knows without looking what smoke coils through its slats,
what stories human weight tells.

It liked things better before it was touched, cut and bolted down,
before the warehouses, and the metal teeth before that,
and the forests before that.

It would rather not have the hollow-tin silence of highway and gravel,
but the silence it once had when it was a whole body, still able to hear the birds.
The Hannaford's Bench
An object poem I wrote for class. I got really into this.


forgetyoself's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States

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Aglyra Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2015
Thank you for your favorites  Black Rose :hug:
Space-khD Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thanks for the fave!I am a dummy! 
Aglyra Featured By Owner Sep 29, 2015
Thank you for your favorite :huggle: :blackrose:
transe Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2015   General Artist
Thank you for the watch! :aww:
LayaAmaranthi Featured By Owner Sep 7, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much for the favorites and the watch. :)
I hope you're having a good day. :D :D (even though it's Monday : p XD )
Ahness Featured By Owner Sep 7, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank You very much for the watch! :hug: :)
CircleDreams Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2015
Thank you for the fav of my poem. :aww:
Sonicgirl582 Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2015   General Artist
Cheers for faving my water lily photo! It truly means a lot, so thank you. :love: :D :)
Aglyra Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2015
Thank you so much for the watch! I really appreciate it :huggle: :blackrose:
Life-takers-crayons Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2015
Thank you so very much for the watch :)
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