Overcast Skies by Chezzy-Am on DeviantArt

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Chezzy-Am

Published: Dec 16, 2011

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Literature Text

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Literature

A Ballad of a Broken Heart, Served With Disdain

A ballad of a broken heart, served with disdain – Here! I curse you thenceforth, playing your wretched tricks. Bon appetit, may you always carry this stain. For every moment you smile, every moment, vain, When love’s labor was lost, with tears counted like sticks: A ballad of a broken heart served with disdain. Remedies not yet present for such who feel pain, The pain of dejection measured with candle wick – Bon appetit, may you always carry this stain. Your fabled ilk served in satin savored silk, lain Upon those beds whose thorns were alive, which would lick A ballad of a broken hearts served with disdain Drama! Forsooth this torture that had broken twain The heart, poisoned, that had endured those needless pricks “Bon appetit, May you always carry this stain.” But all is forlorn, all my words are blown, like grain, Even like autumn leaves blown to serve, strong and thick, A ballad of a broken heart, served with disdain – Bon appetit, may you always carry this stain.

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Impetus

Is anyone there? Can anybody hear me? Are these messages Coming through clearly? Over a year has gone by Since I felt the ground beneath me. How much longer must I wait Till these binding walls release me? There are so many worlds Left to be discovered. My mind is set on new horizons, But you're holding me back. If you are listening to this Than we have reached the other side. We've chosen the path That you so readily denied. Time, time It only takes time Wait it out...Wait It only takes time What– What do you want from me? I refuse to be the coal That burns in your machine. Why– Why do I even try?

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Her teeth are chipped and broken. She wears lipstick in a shade called "Pow!" a bright red to make up for her smile. In her mind, it works because no one ever asks questions. Between her jealous, button down guard dog and her own reputation the world tends to keep its distance. An untouchable beauty with dark hair and wild eyes, she moves like a dancer and a jungle cat and is a casing for a spirit darkened by secrets, sometimes bright and energetic and randomly explosive. She was not made for capture or confinement. He lives with her in a claus

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Idle Hands Without Any Plans

Idle Hands Without Any Plans What a way to waste a day, Watching your own flesh decay, How divine, as you may find, Getting lost in your own mind, If I may share, you're quite the pair, That is, you and your despair, This routine, even unseen, Is constant and unfailing, (but) Not to fear, just rest my dear, Tomorrow is another year.

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to the boy who doesn't plan on leaving

how much of me can you swallow, love before you finally purge? I am a cartographer of bad experiences; I can locate precisely where I see our divergence extraordinaire and I can tell you before I have even met you that the skin on my hands is too dry for the softness you plan on caressing me with. let me tell you how this ends; I will show you all the people I have destroyed - flooded to the best of my ignorance, driven wild with jealousy, had whipped with lust and left smoking pot after four promises stating otherwise. let me tell you how this ends; after showing you the blessed catastrophe it is to be human, you will destroy me. you may

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free bird

it’s a need to feel the suns golden fingers teasing figure eights along my back, & the wind on my cheeks. i must have been a bird in some past life, a swallow or a hummingbird. because, i swear on some nights i can feel the growing pains of an atlas ready to burst through my skin like wings. i just want to be free.

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Boiling Seas

I hope your sails burn When next you set sail And the wind fans the flames So overboard you'll go I hope the sea swallows you And drags you down slowly So you can feel every second Away from the surface I hope when you hit bottom You'll survive long enough To remember what you said When you were intoxicated I hope that once you've drunk Your fill of salt water You die full of regrets For the emptiness in your head I hope the fish feast On your tongue and teeth And the sharks leave you To be broken by the reef I hope you shatter Into a million pieces And your soul bubbles Into oblivion I hope you sail straight to Hell

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My little visitor

In a dream you come to me and I hold you like a baby. You purring loudly in my ear, I sense that you forgave me. I caress your head in my hand and press a kiss upon your cheek. I miss you my little one, is all that I can speak. Thank you for this flying visit, it seems you have no time. Your spirit brings me so much comfort, I know that you´ll be fine. So off you go and leave me, one time more, up over the bridge into the clouds, through the cat-flap in God`s door. 12.06.2016

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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

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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

Featured in Groups

A few terminologies:

Nana : Maternal Grandfather
Nani : Maternal Grandmother
Mammo : Maternal Uncle

...

My Nana died on Wednesday of this week. Its been hectic ever since. Its 12:50am, night-time, here in Rawalpindi and thus it'll be my first night in his house. Uploaded from there. Oh finished most of it at 7:36am today in the morning.

The sketch is by ~JoyDivision4 and its called "Crashing". Check it from my favorites under the folder "Orbitrium". You'll find it there

Hope you like it. Take Care.

Mature

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License

Comments36

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brokengod--veins

Jul 4, 2013Featured

I'm so sorry for the loss, my friend

The format makes my head hurt a little- I'm sorry but can each paragraph be spaced individually? And can '(silence)' be "and there was silence" or anything like that because it doesn't quite fit. Plus the dialogues should be their own paragraph to avoid confusion.

This is really heartfellt ans I love the story, but I'm very nitpicky with prose formats because my eyes suck at being eyes which is why I wear glasses.

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