Gallery
Literature
Auto-Love
It's the same daily routine,
the same nightly fight,
the same amount of effort
from both sides.
It's one sided struggling,
both sided acknowledgement,
neither side resolving.
It's auto love.
One connected to the other,
struggling to keep it together.
Promises to change,
to "mean it this time".
To get better.
To be better.
To want to be better.
But it's the same routine,
just flipped today,
in a different light,
with a different name,
in a different way.
It's auto love,
and there's no off switch.
Featured
4 deviations
Literature
Trial and Error?
Searching everywhere, looking for The One. Hoping every time today will be the day. Wondering if they are close by or somewhere far away. Am I meant to find them? Will I always be alone? Am I wasting my time trying dating apps on my phone? Should I let Fate be the one to take my hand, letting romance happen entirely unplanned? Is it up to me to find my missing heart? Should I just wait around, hoping for something to start? If I knew what I should do, I'd do so right away. I just know it's scary thinking that I missed my chance. That I overlooked my soulmate at a glance. How I wish they'd find me, that I wouldn't have to search. That I'd find my special person, and they would forever be The One. That they wouldn't break my heart like the others I've known have done. What am I to do about this quandary that I'm in? Should I keep on searching, will I know to let them in?
Poetry
451 deviations
Literature
Checkered Squares: By the Black Petaled Man
By the wailing pool of black, sat a table, a table marble white. As white as the fountain pool, as sinister as liquid black. Upon this table white rested a checkered square, a checkered square of red and black to match the roses there. Many a game and many a night were lost atop these checkered squares, found on table marble white next to a pool of liquid black. And as the pool of liquid black sat on fountain of marble white, so did these checkered squares rest dolefully on blood spilled there. Many a man would wager there upon the checkered squares against the man of petal black. And many a many would lose more than he dared on games of checkered squares. What drove sane men to seek him there, he never knew. What stirred the men to wager more than dare and lose a flower there. A flower just discarded upon a checkered dare. Woe to the poor girls, for this isn’t fair, for they dared to not be there, now they shall lay bare. But a clever man, the petal’d man is, for
Prose
347 deviations
