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Deviant for 8 Years
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Literature
Poison
God poisoned my mother
twice. Twice -
also the number of
times she gave birth.
They ripped out
a piece of her, ensuring
I’d be her final child.
Then the doctors
poisoned her, too. Her hair didn’t
fall out, but her kindness did.
I swear I heard her
retching it up at night.
It frightened me.
How could God do this
to her? She has a son,
a daughter. Oh, my poor father.
Act Two – a few
years after, God was a vampire.
He attacked her throat.
“Not this.”
“Not again.”
“Not now.”
Radiation didn’t make her
Spiderman, it just
dried her up. And I
died watching.
But she lived.
I still haven’t forgiven
God.
:iconTheSilentSerenade:TheSilentSerenade
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Literature
Eating Alone
In the dim dawn of autumn
I glimpse a baby raccoon.
Night-coloured, she scratches at trash bags
so she may eat. Her clawed feet
shuffle. She has no mother
to nip her and nag her,
“Don’t touch that. Slow down.”
No people to harm her
(Except for me).
Alone, she is safe;
independent and free.
I turn from my orphaned friend,
unsure if I feel sadness,
or jealousy.
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Literature
The Brutal Classroom 2.0
His French accent was as
heavy as the words he
dropped on my head.
I dreaded
each day in that room.
Sarcasm dripped
from his lips;
some of the students laughed
along. I tried to be strong -
Don’t cry.
Don’t fucking cry
, I thought
as I was taught
by the bully:
an unusual school scenario.
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Literature
The Brutal Classroom
I feel I’m in a King’s Court.
I’d like to be a knight,
but I am as useless
as a depressed jester.
False royalty looks down on me
but heavy crowns don’t compare
to the weight
of this burden I bear.
So I wait.
Will I pass this test?
I would guess
not.
The ugly princess has no thirst
for mercy. I watch her golden eyes
and speak to her old, sour soul.
Give me a sword. I swear
I could slice so easily.
Yet I’m kept in a cage
while dragon slayers play
outside. I tire of hiding,
though I know the king
wants to hear my blood sing.
I have no noble armour
but the bones which guard my heart.
Now, the next lesson:
I’m not as fragile
as my foes.
I have no want for glory and gold
I only need my soul.
Before my neck is severed
from my ever-stubborn shoulders
I say, “I do not deserve this.”
:iconTheSilentSerenade:TheSilentSerenade
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Literature
Rich
I always had such intense love for the rain.
The smallest of drops would catch my eye
and I loved the feeling of water on my bare
skin. But such things change with time.
I even stopped reading the morning paper.
But Mom still wants me to marry someone rich.
Instead, I met a man with the name Rich.
He also liked to chase the rain,
and wrote me love poems on pink tissue paper.
He had one green eye and one blue eye.
We fell in love after a short amount of time,
and danced in thunderstorms; our feet bare.
Mom treated him with as much kindness as a grizzly bear.
He was too gracious to act in return, my Rich.
He always said, “I’ll make her like me this time.”
I said, “She thinks she’s queen. Not until she ends her reign.”
He’d laugh but wouldn’t look me in the eye,
I’d give up and read the morning paper.
I wanted to stay in and watch some pay-per-
view, but Rich told me he couldn’t bear
being inside. “Well, go out, then,
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Literature
To a Former Friend
You are second hand smoke
tearing your way down my throat
You are that pesky fruit fly
floating in my class of coke
You are the eyelash in my eye
and the ringing in my ears
You’re the words that form a lie
and you’ve caused so many tears
Keep your poison, you venomous snake
I won’t let you touch my skin
You’ve haunted me like a dream -
but the nightmare’s over, I’m awake
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Literature
Ekphrasis: The Persistence of Memory
Soft, almost-liquid time:
How quickly it can escape.
How easily it slips through our fingers.
It melts like ice under the bright sun.
How can we hold onto it?
Miserable hands,
how do you move both
fast and slow?
We hope the clock
can keep its promises.
:iconTheSilentSerenade:TheSilentSerenade
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Literature
For Matt
I'm barely awake when he slips from my bed, and although my arms are relieved to stretch out, they ache to be unlocked from him. I don't pretend I'm going back to sleep. Or I do, but I don't try very hard. I stopped being embarrassed about him seeing me peek at him a few weeks ago. When he looks back at me, he tells me I'm beautiful. I shake my head, but wonder if he's made me believe it. Maybe I've just gotten used to denying it so I can hear him say it twice.
I roll over and listen to him shuffle. I can't bring myself to feel guilty about making him late for Calculus. Instead, I smile, because that's the reason I don't have any clothes on. I can't say the same about him anymore, judging from what I think is the rustling of his T-shirt. I shift my body again to confirm this, and realize he is running out of things to do before he goes. When I let out a sigh, he asks if I'm okay. I say yes, because how can I be anything less than that?
To feel his lips on mine makes my heart sink, but
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Literature
Envy II
I go deeper into depths dark as ink
My heart pumps acid through all my veins
Under envy's heavy burden I do sink
Claws pull me through an icy rink
Though I struggle against the strain
I go deeper into depths dark as ink
Teeth and bones freeze in the drink
And nothing but my hatred remains
Under envy's heavy burden I do sink
My heart just continues to shrink
I give up and let go of the reins
I go deeper into depth dark as ink
I know I am on the brink
of madness, locked in chains
Under envy's heavy burden I do sink
My mind is so cold, I cease to think
Heavy thoughts fill up my brain
I go deeper into depth dark as ink
Under envy's heavy burden I do sink
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Literature
Envy
I feel my heart
as it pumps acid through all of my veins
My soul tears apart,
but I see nothing with green eyes sewn shut
Claws claim my skin,
pull my through the ice and drag me down, down
punishing my great sin
Teeth and bones freeze as I go deeper
to depths dark as ink
There is no escaping it now
under envy's heavy burden I do sink
:iconTheSilentSerenade:TheSilentSerenade
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Literature
Don't Patronize Me
After thirty minutes of doing nothing but crying, Jennifer noticed her makeup was finally starting to run.
Run. Like he did.
Jennifer sobbed even harder. Although Lindsey has used mascara that was supposed to hold up against a few years, it wasn't meant for this long, nor this reason.
"...And he didn't give any indication as to why?" Lindsay asked, sweeping the hair that had fallen out of Jennifer's up-do behind her ear.
Jennifer shook her head vigorously, as she was beginning to feel annoyed. It was the fourth time Lindsey had asked the same question using different words.
No, Alan hadn't said why. He found Jennifer minutes after she had slipped into her stunning white dress, mumbled something like, "I can't do this," and he was gone. She didn't even have the luxury of telling people she was left at the altar - they didn't even get that far.
"Well," Lindsey sighed, now rubbing her best friend's back. "This probably isn't what you want to hear right now, but..."
Then d
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Literature
Dirty Laundry
You pinned my heart to the wall.
A work of art,
but not enough to make you stay.
Crimson liquid drips like paint
as it trails downward.
Similar to the tears on my cheeks -
but with more colour.
:iconTheSilentSerenade:TheSilentSerenade
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Literature
Spinning
Chelsea was never quite sure why she found such joy in it. Then again, the sensations she looked forward to were less in the activity itself than in its aftermath. Sure, it was fun to spin. Chelsea had felt that way ever since she was a little girl. To spin meant to move as quickly as possible past everything in every direction, usually while her own strands of dark hair gently bounced against her cheeks.
At seventeen, however, Chelsea had come to prefer the phenomenon which occurred when she stopped spinning. Instead of passing the things around her, they were passing her. It reminded her of how her life worked. Eventually, Chelsea realized that was why she drank so much and so often - it made things spin, too. They spun in a different way, as it was more internal than external. But it was spinning nevertheless. Although she knew it would probably kill her sooner or later, she would rather die spinning than go through life at a standstill.
:iconTheSilentSerenade:TheSilentSerenade
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Literature
Too Late
I'm not incomplete, as they believe
But I can't hold myself together
I need you like a poem needs her rhyme
I'd follow you like a clock follows time
But Time's hard to catch; he's unreliable
Daylight savings makes me twist my hands
I chase the seconds and they're already gone
So I depend on the sun to wake me at dawn
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Literature
Glass
Jordan knew something was wrong the moment he turned the key.
"Lily?" he called out as he slipped into the dark house.
It was only around 6pm, but it was the middle of January, so the sun must have been down for at least an hour. She would have turned on the lights by now.
Maybe she's out, Jordan tried to convince himself to no avail. Lily had scarcely left the house in weeks.
He was still barely a step away from the door. Going any further meant making this real.
Jordan decided he'd have to make it real sooner or later and kicked off his shoes, but didn't bother to strip himself of his winter coat. The chill in the air was far too heavy.
"Lily?" he repeated, but this time it was less of a call and more of a plea.
Please have eaten today.
Please be alright.
Please answer me.

However, Jordan's voice only hit the walls. They didn't answer and almost seemed to swallow the name up: Lily.
He almost turned the lights on, but no. That would be too real. He approach
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Literature
Summer
You and I, we were just like summer.
I wanted us the most
before we started, and
I could feel you getting close.
In the beginning, all was warm and bright.
We could be careless.
Responsible for nothing.
Then, I fell.
I fell faster than the temperature rises in mid-July.
We were just like summer, you and I.
But every season lives, and as such, they die.
Panic set in when I knew it was ending.
I had to stop pretending
as reality blew cooler breezes on my skin
and shortened the days.
Things became dark so quickly.
Now, we are over.
You and I,
the never-quite-lovers.
We didn't last, but we happened,
and that will always be true.
All that's left is the memory of you.
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Favourites

Worlds Collide by ribkaDory Worlds Collide :iconribkadory:ribkaDory 6,888 288 Kobold Spot Art by D-MAC Kobold Spot Art :icond-mac:D-MAC 365 30 A Whole Sky's Blush by Tyrison A Whole Sky's Blush :icontyrison:Tyrison 3 2
Literature
Apsara
Find me sunken into the
lotus field, bathing skin silvergreen,
waist-deep and pink
in sunset, and we will cry:
for three-faced elephants,
for rain,
for the dancers threading grace
between their fingertips—
until I dress in the heaviness,
a sarong of heat.
:iconConcora:Concora
:iconconcora:Concora 52 64
HP: FIFTY SNAKES OF GREY by Randomsplashes HP: FIFTY SNAKES OF GREY :iconrandomsplashes:Randomsplashes 624 38 The Roar of Our Stars by alicexz The Roar of Our Stars :iconalicexz:alicexz 47,009 2,718 Jack Frost vs Bunnymund by Kadeart0 Jack Frost vs Bunnymund :iconkadeart0:Kadeart0 3,528 146 Bibliophilia by Concora Bibliophilia :iconconcora:Concora 15 18
Literature
Of Bliss
Kissing daffodils sway,
serenaded by the waver of
gossamer wings;
faces blushing bright
as the sunlight
slips away.
:iconConcora:Concora
:iconconcora:Concora 42 45
Literature
Sliver
They say that if you stand in front of a wall of glass at exactly four minutes past midnight and tap your fingers on it three times, you can open a door to the void beyond this world. It has to be somewhere you can see your reflection, and see through it, hovering like a ghost over the darkness beyond, somewhere dim enough that you can't quite tell the difference between light and shade. And unless you hit the glass where you touched it, shatter the half-formed image before the fifth minute strikes, that door will never close.
Celia Gray has never been one for urban legends. So much so, that she would never turn down a chance to prove one wrong.

The girls are in the middle of their third round of Truth Or Dare when it's brought up for the first time.
"No way!"
"Come on, Angie, it's almost midnight!"
"No, Tracey."
"What's wrong, scared?"
"No, I—I just ...it's my house! I'm not smashing my balcony door."
"Jeez, guys." The five faces turn at the third voice. "We're fourteen no
:iconTreo-LeGigeo:Treo-LeGigeo
:icontreo-legigeo:Treo-LeGigeo 41 18
My Clockwork Heart by edibility My Clockwork Heart :iconedibility:edibility 71 28
Journal
Daily Literature Deviations for October 4, 2012
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Daily Lit Deviations for October 4th, 2012
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Inked by Concora Inked :iconconcora:Concora 11 43
Literature
Fable
Moon cloaks
fallen from
shoulders,
(and you are)
left clad in only
the softest of
shadows.
:iconConcora:Concora
:iconconcora:Concora 47 46
Beauty in unlikely places by Sepulchral-Roses Beauty in unlikely places :iconsepulchral-roses:Sepulchral-Roses 7 7 olli by ohsparrowsong olli :iconohsparrowsong:ohsparrowsong 7 14

Activity


  • Listening to: Little Numbers - Boy
  • Reading: The Hobbit & A Game of Thrones
Hey ho hello.

I'm overtired and haven't updated this journal since the summer, whaaaat. All I can really say is school is keeping me busy and stressed, while life is keeping me at equal levels of happiness and sadness. I don't think anyone really reads my stuff anymore (boo hoo), but I feel obliged to keep posting stuff. I think this account reminds me to make time to write!

I'm doing up a poetry collection for my creative writing class (though I am partially cheating by using stuff I've already written), so I will be posting some new things soon.

<3

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TheSilentSerenade
Becky
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
“I am still so na´ve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?”
-Sylvia Plath

I'm a writer and an actress, but more importantly- fangirl extraordinaire. I'm currently studying Journalism and I'm finding both joy and challenges in it. I love writing short stories and poetry, and hope I have the inspiration to turn one of my ideas into a novel one day. My heart is always either infatuated or broken, so the amount I write about love will probably get on your nerves.
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:iconconcora:
Concora Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2013   Writer
Thank you! :) :heart:
Reply
:iconthesilentserenade:
TheSilentSerenade Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome :tighthug:
Reply
:iconedibility:
edibility Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2012  Hobbyist
Thank you for the fave on my heart :blushes:
Reply
:iconthesilentserenade:
TheSilentSerenade Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! It's a beautiful shot.
Reply
:iconconcora:
Concora Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2012   Writer
Thank you for the favourite of Ghosts. :rose:
Reply
:iconthesilentserenade:
TheSilentSerenade Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You're quite welcome! Thanks for the favourite of Cold, and the Watch means a lot to me. :thanks:
Reply
:iconconcora:
Concora Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2012   Writer
And for the watch. :heart::heart:
Reply
:iconthevictims11:
thevictims11 Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2012
Thanks for the watch :hug:
Reply
:iconthesilentserenade:
TheSilentSerenade Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome. :huggle:
Reply
:iconthevictims11:
thevictims11 Featured By Owner May 26, 2012
thanks so much for the fave and the comment. It made my day :D
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