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About Literature / Hobbyist insomniaplagueFemale/United States Group :iconfrom-minds-discarded: from-minds-discarded
 
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Literature
you can't have it all
But you can have eating wild grapes and their skin like beetle wings
cocooned in bruises. You can have swings that go so high you kick
a hole in the clouds. You can have chickens following you through the front door
and the cat’s gift to say, Look, I am taking care of you.
You can have happiness, but tempered as
your first taste of wine when you hid your puckering face
because you were eight years old and dangerous.
You can have a touch you blush for, ferret hands dancing,
small and terrifying and knowledgable.
You can have an aspiration of “us” held on one stool leg, darting breaths but
never admitting to dreams, to a stew of practicality.
You can talk to her, sometimes,
and even mean something.
You can have the book you stole after she stumbled,
and “that” word sank into your hands. You can’t cure cancer,
but you can have two sets of spoons in the same sink
although she’s only touched the one you lent her,
the one you didn’t expe
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 44 18
Literature
two minutes at the bottom of the ocean
i open my eyes and the room is underwater
a refraction of light--
a trout
tail flicked & then the sediment settles
like dysentery, this narcoleptic soul
to pulse, spin
into a paralysis of the
no--
this is the pressure that creaks in my bones:
this is the space between my mouth and my mind
& the few centimeters between my ears are pulsing
with the things I cannot get to my hands
but my head is not a fucking ocean:
it's a flaw in chemistry
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 55 16
Literature
we can only hurt ourselves
the light from your cigarette was the light in your eyes
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 45 8
Literature
kafka has been dead forever
i.
I am going to cut the veins out of my neck:
pull the stars from the legaments
drown the cities in bruises
ii.
I am going to burn in hell:
tear down the pyramids, the faces, the continents
the weight of the universe
iii.
   (if I live to be 20
    I will know the landscape of my mind
    as well as the bottom of the ocean
    & people I've never met)
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 60 35
Literature
dead girls don't write poetry
dear someone,
there are no funerals
for the flesh
no hospitals
for the mind
no curtains & no cremations
for all our pretty words
paradigm,
you can't save every patient
sweet,
a corpse would warm your bed
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 133 43
Literature
poem for borderlines
if i could concentrate over
seven hundred thousand eyes
thumping
at the roof to the numbers stepping
from the nicities & rows
to go back
recoil
to the shattered surface
& the ripples beating over the hang
halfway between shallow
and shore
biting lips. maybe--
no
she couldn't have known
that it takes a whole three minutes
for the lungs to
well, maybe she
who, oh well
                         oh wait
the white; the haze--
the booming over
the spume and spray
stop changing
disturbing
me get out of my head
just pull up the shutters
step outside
my tongue the weight to talk
it out
but that's all we'll ever be:
a match burning itself out for
fun
under the backspray of someone else's wheels
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 64 38
Literature
you should be home by now
last tuesday the house took my hand & said,
it's more of a hurricane than a fire
since he broke in & burned
my curtains
my floors
my bridges
my self
but sometimes I see her with a lighter
& she finishes what he didn't do
(I think she's afraid
of settling in,
being quiet)
but last tuesday I realized that she kept the lights on
to frighten away the bridges & the people
so no one will come inside
& smash the teacups, steal the pipes
because since he burnt her beds out
no one lives there anymore
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 74 24
Literature
our walls are too thin
sitting together
you can hear my heart hitting
against my chest like a broom to the ceiling
& the neighbor upstairs
begins to scream
the wind breaks a hole in my skull
you can hear my thoughts:
words whispered in paper rooms
& you have a cup to my ear
i am 16 now
but sometimes we forget that
we are not teapots or socks in the wastebasket
& the holes in our heads are not signs of well-worn affection
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 61 18
Literature
every night my hair is falling out
I have heard that in 7 years
every cell in your body
is new
& isn't it beautiful that it will be
a body you have never touched
but I know that when your brain cells
die
fall like ashes through your skull
they stay dead
& I can never scrap the memories out of their corpses
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 74 18
Literature
all of your lives have been addicts
my cat
has turned
my front porch
into a graveyard
as if to say:
this is what we need
but tonight
she tried to lick my claws
back to hands
& I said to her:
"I do not have 9 lives
to spend on the bathroom floor
with 13-hour insomnia
can't we just kill the mockingbirds
pull the concrete
out of our throats
& get this dying
over with
already"
but
she's got 8 lives down
& doesn't answer questions twice
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 209 94
Literature
can you tell me real things
i didn't bother to ask you for anything this year
(even if black friday lasts all week
and dirt is cheaper on christmas eve)
no matter the cliche--
what i want you can't find in a store
the sound of bursting glass
and the strings of light out-of-focus
are definitions
the bleeding hands
the burning eyes
are the
meaning
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 36 13
Literature
Venus in black leather
in '69 furs were enough
after all,
wearing a dead thing is rather indicative of what you're paying for
but we've clipped off the claws & gave the lion a gun
shaved off the mane and the babbling blonde
for a party city costume
a whip
& something just taboo enough to be a bestseller  

I throw down the newspaper--
porn just isn't classy anymore
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 44 16
Literature
things stay the same
Stripped tinsel
crushed beneath;
warm lights and
the red-gold glow of
reflections
Crepe and cellophane
drowning in
half-empty wine glasses--
tape hung over
under trash and
the re-gifted morning
afters
Tree-lights and ribbon-frays
tracing paper and
curled to
remember resolutions
crawling beneath
the bows
of years to come
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 38 39
Literature
I filled the sea with dirt
selfish & humble
waiting for sin
as the best years of my life
crawl into the sea
[the wings left no room for ribs]
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 49 35
Literature
I do not like you poets
I do not like you poets
breathing into my sorry head
like the air hasn't been wasted a half-a-million times
folding up my lungs
to place them neatly into a wastebasket
how can you make me stop hurting
& then just leave me
a limp lettuce leaf
on the backside of some dirty napkin verse
I am not the jealous type
but I'm going to call up Melpomene & ask her where she's been
send her drunk texts
all night
because I'm too tired of filling up my skull
with cicada skins instead of led
while you make it all too easy
to sleep through a heartattack or two
my pygmalion, my god, my thing of legends
tell me
when you were being taught the siren's song
was I writing myself a migraine?
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 211 125
Literature
From Mia, With Love
last night i caught her with a finger so far down the back of her throat,
she pulled up her thoughts
into all the water
a refraction of light &
a trout
suspended until suddenly all the water in her head sloshes
(a faint inner ripple
as the pain leaks out her ears, her nose)
she was gasping to throw herself onto the next comma
but no
she sinks or swims [the cliche, a baracuda, drags her down]
but if this was a love song
she'd hate it
because she's already written 46 on her hand
to remind herself she's only human & a weak gag reflex runs in her family
so walk straight in, my love
& sink to the bottom
six feet under these bulimic stars
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague
:iconinsomniaplague:insomniaplague 65 49

Favourites

See No Evil by stevenrussellblack See No Evil :iconstevenrussellblack:stevenrussellblack 150 14 (Runa) THROUGH THE GLASS by M0THart (Runa) THROUGH THE GLASS :iconm0thart:M0THart 507 15 Robot 92 by MattiasA Robot 92 :iconmattiasa:MattiasA 78 5 214 / 365 by OliviaRosePhoto 214 / 365 :iconoliviarosephoto:OliviaRosePhoto 114 3 life and death of a popstar by eikoweb life and death of a popstar :iconeikoweb:eikoweb 112 5 Dead eyes by Alienmainen Dead eyes :iconalienmainen:Alienmainen 1,134 49
Literature
can you remember how it used to be
i.
when our world shattered, i wasn't
old enough to know. i knew our
mother cried at night and clutched the sheets
until her knuckles
turned white; that you shut
yourself in your bedroom and turned your
back on what was breaking;
i only knew for sure the day he
said it's only temporary, kiddo, that it
was done, a permanent fracture
in glass already strained. my world was ending,
and i could only watch.
ii.
our father didn't count as
home for the longest time. he wasn't a
replacement for the
mother we missed during the days, and he knew
it, i think.
i think it broke his heart.
that first christmas was half a tree because
there wasn't enough room
in the duplex for a full one, decorated
with bud light coasters
and tiny ornaments strung on with unfolded paper
clips. a lot of them broke when
they were flattened, and i never saw the
symbolism til my childhood was gone.
iii.
i think mother lost
herself for a while, there. i knew she
wasn't sleeping, but an eight
year old doesn't know h
:iconKhaimin:Khaimin
:iconkhaimin:Khaimin 36 15
Forest by No87 Forest :iconno87:No87 45 3
Literature
the dead and the dying
the funny thing about
humans is that
we think we are
invincible and immortal
gods.
no—
we're all
roadkill,
living in
a tainted world
where cars drive
too damn fast.
and me,
well,
i just try to
get by without
being hit
more than once.
:iconlupus-astra:lupus-astra
:iconlupus-astra:lupus-astra 410 80
Lady with Red Hair by AnjaMillen Lady with Red Hair :iconanjamillen:AnjaMillen 236 18
Literature
I need no more acceptance than my words on a page
I want my poetry to speak-
turn on its headlights,
shine stark and revealing through the windows
of your soul.
I have no desire for a following
or a faithful group of admirers,
lining up to
tell me
what a good job I've done,
tell me
how clever a mind I've got.
I don't need you to speak-
my poetry speaks for itself.
I just want my poetry to breathe-
drink in the swirl of your thoughts
the hail storm of your emotions and
exhale
sweet
relief
for your own lungs to draw in.
I don't need your admiration-
my poetry sustains me.
:icondaybreaksmiles:daybreaksmiles
:icondaybreaksmiles:daybreaksmiles 27 20
Duch by Katari-Katarina Duch :iconkatari-katarina:Katari-Katarina 367 14 Vylin by DemiseMAN Vylin :icondemiseman:DemiseMAN 1,897 60
Literature
Family Reunion
"Family Reunion:"
"Come downstairs and say hello,
for here are your Aunts and Uncles--
Jane and James, Milly and Moe."

Ma said while clenching her knuckles
Skipped down the stairs, I gave a hand
To my elderly kin and folk
Uncle's skin shriveled up like sand,
Auntie's hair grayed like thick smoke
While Ma and Pa set the table,
Moe and I would sit on the porch
I rolled my eyes and moped at stories
Told millions of times before
Though, one peaked my interest
About "a lonely man,"
He wandered a house for years until
He left with a penny at hand
When James and Jane, Milly and Moe
Told Ma and Pa goodbye,
I asked about "the lonely man"
Where he'd been since that time
Pa pointed to a mannequin,
His smile growing wide
"He looks just as great now
As when he was alive." 
:iconMiellat:Miellat
:iconmiellat:Miellat 14 7
Hope by LeslieAnnODell Hope :iconleslieannodell:LeslieAnnODell 356 8 Martyr by JasonEngle Martyr :iconjasonengle:JasonEngle 464 9

Activity


I'm going on a permanent hiatus. Just thought I'd let anyone who cares know (if you already haven't detected that.) 

I'll probably make a writing tumblr or something. I'll update if I ever move my poetry back to the internet. :p

deviantID

insomniaplague

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I like poetry, long walks in the woods, and poking dead things with a stick.

Dark and Girly Stamp by StampMakerLKJcomputer stamp by Kataang-furubastamp by alwaslgirl:Sexuality Stamp by Ryugexu:Stamp - Cat Lover by MauserGirlFav and RUN 2 - stamp by JWiesnerMusic Stamp by Taylorinchains28:06:42:12, 'yo. by walruskungfu

Comments


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:iconiwanttobeemmapeel:
IWantToBeEmmaPeel Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2014
I miss you.
Reply
:iconseilf:
Seilf Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Your poetry slinks like a cat in the back of my mind. I keep setting out disks of cream.
Reply
:iconithaswhatitisnt:
ithaswhatitisnt Featured By Owner Sep 11, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for everything.  For every single little fave or comment or anything. :iconglomplz: I'm gonna miss you. :heart:
Reply
:iconiwanttobeemmapeel:
IWantToBeEmmaPeel Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2014
I look at my 39 watchers and feel happy. Then I look at your 313 watchers and feel bleh. :-P You deserve every last one of them.
Reply
:icongammagyro:
gammagyro Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2014
In a murder trial, the defense attorney was cross-examining the coroner:

"Before you signed the death certificate, did you take the pulse, listen to the heart or check for breathing?"

"No."

"So, when you signed the death certificate, you weren't sure the man was dead, were you?"

"Well, the man's brain was in a jar on my desk, but I suppose he could have still been practicing law for a living."
Reply
:iconamour-raven:
amour-raven Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2014  Student Writer
I just wanted to stop by and thank you for your support. :love:

Your fav on my newest literature feature: Literarily Speaking v.I means a lot to me. 

I hope you remain interested as the series progresses. :heart:
Reply
:iconkhaimin:
Khaimin Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much for the favorite! It really means a lot. c:
Reply
:iconinsomniaplague:
insomniaplague Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome. ^^
Reply
:iconscheherazades:
scheherazades Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
thank you for the llama c:
Reply
:iconinsomniaplague:
insomniaplague Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome! :)
Reply
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