| Deviant Login | Shop | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
Collection It was a truly great collection.Collection by ~Morphing-Time
So lovely, in fact, that it made my skin crawl and I wanted to cry.
Also I wanted to fall in love, but not at the cost of my genuinity. (And not alone.)
Funny how these things break me down.
It wasn't all about love, though. It talked about politics and sexuality and justice.
Idealism? Maybe.
But show me a real individual
who hasn't heartbeated to an idealistic blood flow.
Repetition Want to dance?Repetition by ~Morphing-Time
I'm not wearing the right wrong write shoes.
Link up our modern lynchers. Link by link until thinking for yourself is a cliché and following yourself is like locking your keys in your car; think if you were a car with the keys inside of you. If you swallowed your orgasm and it's stuck inside of you until you get plastic surgery to give you a new one.
A new orgasm. Is it fake and plastic, being not the first? Is the second one made of silicon? Will people look at your silicon orgasm and wonder where you got the money? Did you sleep with the medical staff?
Are you an old guitar? Do you crack with age or repetition?
These Are My Friends The girl who learned to dance for the first time in the back of a used bookstore.These Are My Friends by ~Morphing-Time
The society that put the "double" in double-standard.
The teacher who really just wants to learn.
The boy that said, "I'm sorry," to the families of all his friends.
The earthquake in the sky, his wrath as unsatisfying as all the lives he didn't take.
The soldier who painted his toes purple in the Winter.
A music video that talks until the very end and you realize you've just heard the most beautiful melody.
The teenage woman who wants nothing more than to be happy and understands the weight of her wish.
The priest who comes home one day,
Disposable Crumble me into geometric shapes.Disposable by ~Morphing-Time
Stamp out my fire before it transforms into a flame capable of burning.
This would burn you.
We believe in love. More, we believe we know what love is.
We feel an attraction. A tug of souls, we believe.
Call it a connection, if you would.
This connection we believe to be the source of life itself.
It is disposable:
Regenerating as if to say we are but starfish.
No brains, no guts, but five or so "connections" which we find to be replaceable one day when
| My name's Kip. Fifteen. High school student. I do photography as well as writing. My photography deviantart account is The-Yellow-Ranger. |
Sta.sh
--
Activism is my rent for living on this planet. --Alice Walker
--
we'll fill the m e t r o skies with c o u n t r y air...
icon by the amazing ~Sunny-Winter-Star
--
If I happen to fave your work, please don't have to comment on my page, thanking me. If I liked it, there's no need to thank me, right? Plus, that's what dA is all about.
Thnx =]
--
If I happen to fave your work, please don't have to comment on my page, thanking me. If I liked it, there's no need to thank me, right? Plus, that's what dA is all about.