EnviouSkullz

I'll Lick Your Brains out.

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i think your body was created just for my body and your hands specifically shaped to swallow my own and all the marks on you are meant for me to trace because you are constellations molded into skin and chemical compounds for cocaine and heroin and the lining of a heart beat i think your teeth were meant to knock against mine in virginal mishaps and bloodied noses from quick kisses that make our lips taste like pennies and your hips were meant for me to knock my knuckles on and when our heads are locked together through our sockets and cartilage we are microbes and giants and we are cathedrals and the vatican and w

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1247 deviations

Literature

untitled 846515

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743 deviations

Literature

JohnxVriska

It was a warm summer's night, and it had been over two years since they'd beat the game. Their worlds had merged, seeing as Alternia was a wasteland. John Egbert and Vriska Serket sat on the sofa, watching Con- Air. Vriska was eating candy, sometimes throwing them into the air and catching them in her mouth. John chuckled and turned back to the screen. It was nearing the end, where Nic Cage reunited with his family. Dammit, he always got choked up here. He started mouthing the words, a sad smile on his lips. Just before he could clutch onto the couch cushion as usual, Vriska dropped a hand on top of his, gently grasping it. He looked at her

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347 deviations

JohnxVriska by evermore138, literature

Literature

JohnxVriska

Whispers and Images by Gothicangel93, literature

Literature

Whispers and Images

You've caked my alveoli with particles of your dust And oxygen can't seem to reach that far. Stifling in the thick, black smog Of your burning memories that you've thrown away in the lifeless grey ashes that crumple between my fingers And blacken the tips. It's cynical to think that death is what I need When I'm flooded with ardent images that only says you have forgotten about the past And they flood my vision and swirl beneath my eyelids like undying flashes resembling the sting of whiplashes that torture. I can't sleep, Cause your past whispers haunt me And the truth is... I haven't moved on, Like you have.

Scarlett by SabbathLiterature, literature

Literature

Scarlett

She once loved a boy who was raised by ghosts. His name was Nobody, All of his parents were dead, And he lived in a churchyard. They used to play in the rain, Between tombstones and high fences. Her gumboots yellow and name scarlett. Her mother was worried, they thought she was lost, But dead and lost are not the same thing. Now she's older she knows it was all pretend. She wonders how she could have been so morbid, Playing with witches and ghouls, Making tracings of strangers' tombstones. On her way home during the storm, She stopped at a cemetery to find a phone, And you'd think she saw a ghost. She found her someone who wa