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About Varied / Hobbyist In memory of the Never-SaidsUnknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Years
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Literature
TheAfterWhys.
I know now,
that the muffled pressure in the dark space
of your car was us screaming into the silence:
I don't really know you,
but I want to.
I want to love you.

We were so so wrong for each other.
I know now,
that the drip burn of candle wax on the back of my hand
was you saying:
It hurts.
This not-quite-fitting-together,
but wanting it so much.

I know now,
that the sound of your receding footsteps
are louder than whispered cries of:
Stay. Please.
And I know why.
I know why we were silent
when we should have screamed.
I know why we could never,
would never, fit together.
I know all of the whys,
now.
After.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
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Literature
Eternity.
Her hands are clasped around empty bottles,
that sparkle in the sunshine
they are pressed against cracked lips, bleeding,
bleeding from the pressure.
She can hear the muffled pitter-pat of rain
against her eardrums
and she closes her eyes, tight,
against the desire
to live.
*
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:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 8 7
Literature
Politically.Correct
Buttons glittered delicately,
finger-stepping their way up a rigid spine,
whispering morse code to the brocade across her shoulders
don't.give.up.
while her chin rose proudly against words
meant to unravel lace.
Her shoes were dull against a gray sky, the soles thin,
but the worn leather smelling softly of shoe polish
and the memory of what it was like to shine.
This morning they supported her
as she stood tip-toe to kiss her husband goodbye
and climbed just a few more steps
to see one more sunrise.
In a moment, they will be all the world sees,
because they'll tell us more than we ever wanted to know
Kicking, twitching,
and finally,
stilling.
(more than we ever wanted to see)
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:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 9 9
Literature
The Fates
He collects slivers of time,
glittering silver seconds
and glossy flakes of golden minutes
in the corner of his eye
They are sunspots in his iris
drops of shatterglass upon his tongue
and the fireworks within his chest.
His breathe is just a whisper,
waiting,
for their incandescence to catch fire
and illuminate the night with their solar flare
so that twilight, shadow, and ebony
are too blind to cut anything.
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:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 17 12
Literature
Delicate.
My nerves are stretched taught across the space between us,
their tendrils digging fraying fingertips desperately into our throats
and praying for salvation from every swallow, every word,
collapsing the delicate lungs within.
you were a hint of yourself at first,
a shimmer of dew-caught sun in my periphery.
your name was only apparition, then,
a vague, undefinable syllable in a ruined scripture,
something lighter than dust -

we are butterfly wings trembling in the hum behind a thunder-clap,
china dolls at the knees of a tornado -
We are the bowed wood of doomed windows and we are clinging,
bereft, to hold the cracks at our hearts from spreading
against the force of our earthquake.
but that was then, before you were smoke in my lungs,
before i envied the summer wind it's breathing in the dark wash of your hair;
a prologue for your beautiful resonance,
blooming so much brighter than a wink of stars at the tips of my eyelashes.

We s
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:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 13 18
Literature
Siffilate
Your kisses fold gently
into the riverbeds of my skin
with a reverence undeserved
and the little truths you tell to my
shoulder
my hips
my collarbone
are secrets only in the dark.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 13 14
Literature
Revenant
It still burns,
every time.
It probably wouldn't if he had them more than twice a year,
but the soft shiver of nicotine down his throat only reminds him how much he hates it.
How much he hates her.
She left him a pack of cigarettes covered in smiley faces, five pointed stars, and neon green hearts wrapping his initials in inky hugs. She laughed every time he told her life was too short for cigarettes and kissed him, promising, always promising, she'd stop before his next birthday.
But he ended up eating caramel cheesecake alone, and ignoring the taste of salt that came with every mouthful.
Now he smokes a cigarette twice a year,
one for his birthday,
and one for the day she died.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 26 25
Literature
Astraphobia
His breath on her skin was
frosted lightening at midnight,
and the roll of thunder between
her ribs the echo of a summer storm.
She heard only the soft exhale
of air across his lips in the silence between
each heartbeat and counted the number
of seconds by each muffled
I love you
her heart whispered endlessly.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 21 16
DevID 2.0 by TheAfterWhys DevID 2.0 :icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 1 9
Literature
The Saucer-Eyed Frogs
If you asked the saucer-eyed frogs about the moon,
they would tell you instead of its reflection upon their glassy pools,
and recite to you their favorite sonnets, in chorus,
should you so choose.
They sing out of rhythm,
out of rhyme, out of tune:
Shimmer, glitter, sparkle,
and twinkle
Our darling, our sweetheart,
our dear.
We love you more than raindrops,
and fireflies, and Lilly pads
big enough for two.
You kiss our windows, our roofs,
and our doors
Dance, play, weep,
or laugh,
    we love you
          all the more.

The romantic,
the blind,
the saucer-eyed frogs.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 22 23
Literature
Inelegant.
Words, she said,
are empty,
insubstantial things
that can be forgotten
misplaced
and misunderstood.
*
Should you abandon me
for pretty words and
ribbons and pearls
you will find your heart
left in a brown paper bag
out in the rain
where only the mold
and the mud is your friend
before the end.
*
Should you stand
with everything to lose
and nothing to gain
your hand in mine,
we will build gilded palaces
of florescent jewels
and fairy tales
(that always end
in happily-ever-after.)
*
We will make our own magic.
Or,
I will make my own.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 26 21
Literature
Hadeharia
You left me cold and empty in the distant mountain lakes,
where the chill of my heart could find solace in the lap of frosty water against fingers and toes.
It is there that the walls of this body shall become translucent,
shall become as a membrane, so that with each passing wave and crisp whipping wind your memory shall become distilled and disperse: leaving only the clinging parasitic tendrils within the marrow of my bones.
There I shall empty the cavities and pustules of my soul,
and be free of the bitter bite eating at every word
and every smile.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 6 26
Literature
Anything.
Tell me,
About the sound of your mother dying on your birthday,
The letter you lost telling you your grandmother had cancer,
Or the email that said you'd been evicted.
Tell me,
About that little crab that wandered across your toes at the beach,
The number of faces you can see in the bathroom floor tiles,
Or your favorite color.
Tell me,
Anything.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 18 28
Literature
Ineluctable
So.
For the past 24 hours we have spent our time frantically looking for a reason to be something other than what we were.
We stood beneath red stoplights and sat on park benches and drove and drove and drove because we couldn't think of anything we would rather do more than feel like we were passing the world by, instead of it passing us by.
We waited on phone calls that we knew were never going to come and hoped fervently that the next song to come on the radio would be worth crying over because then at least we'd have an excuse to cry.
If we talked to ourselves briefly I promise that it was only to inform ourselves that we are pathetic, and this, only so that we can trick our twisted brain into standing up for itself for once.
In all honesty, we are doing whatever any normal person would do. This has happened before, it's predictable, understandable, manageable, and most importantly repeatable. (though repetition is not recommended)
It can be categ
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 28 33
Literature
Suspire
She bites her tongue in self-disgust as she traces the words "I love you" down her arm compulsively, (she no longer knows how to say anything else) and runs his white shirt sleeve across her lower lip to wipe away the blood.
It's 3 hours until midnight and she's watching them,
in her bed.
*
There's still a thin film of dust layered across her skin from when he brushed the ashes of her citadel off his shoulder. She knows there's no putting the pieces back together again, not with the smell of his cologne in her nose. Her mosaic walls a soft powder beneath her feet. She doesn't try.
She walks.
*
The cliffs of Ireland cannot win against the sea she says, watching the surf crash beneath her bloodied toes,
and neither will he.
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:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 34 35
Literature
Fragile
Give me ten days,
and a heartbeat that
means more than the
flux of muscle,
and I'll hold your
hand and teach you
to play piano keys
made of porcelain.
:iconTheAfterWhys:TheAfterWhys
:icontheafterwhys:TheAfterWhys 36 36

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deviantID

TheAfterWhys
In memory of the Never-Saids
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
Normality to the extreme

Current Residence: In Inconsistancies
Favourite genre of music: M.u.s.i.c
Favourite photographer: *indecisive silence*
Favourite style of art: A*r-T
Favourite cartoon character: Calvin and Hobbes
Personal Quote: Keep going.
Interests
  • Listening to: a memory
  • Reading: between the lines
  • Watching: nice guys finish last
  • Playing: angels and devils
  • Eating: my words
  • Drinking: honesty
I'm suffocating.

This morning at 6:00 am my husband kissed me good morning and wished me a happy birthday. By 6:20 I had learned my grandmother had passed away late the night before and I was sobbing into his nightshirt. I went to work, praying nobody would notice the rim of tears that never seemed to go away, and struggled with desire to run out of the office and drive the 8 hrs to my parents house so we could all cry uselessly together.

I did not, do not, want to hear anyone offering me their consolations. I did not, do not, want to hear "I am sorry for your loss". I did not, do not, want to see anyone look at me with sympathy or empathy. My wound is still too raw. Their words are like a flood, like needles in a wound, like a rope around my chest squeezing the oxygen from my lungs. They are not comforting or supportive, they are a bat beating me over the head with the reality that she is gone before the wound has even stopped bleeding.

Our culture does not understand grief.

Comments


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:iconvalkyrieofodin:
ValkyrieOfODIN Featured By Owner Mar 12, 2012  Professional General Artist
Thank you for the faves. =)
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:icontheafterwhys:
TheAfterWhys Featured By Owner Mar 12, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome :)
Reply
:iconcrookedthief:
crookedthief Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2012
i found your page on a whim and i only read the "27" poem at first
but it was really beautiful
and i'm going to read more now
Reply
:icontheafterwhys:
TheAfterWhys Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Whims are often full of surprises. Thank you. =)
Reply
:iconcaitieberry:
CaitieBerry Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2011
You've been tagged! :boogie:

[link]

(Don't wanna? Don't worry, no pressure. :aww:)
Reply
:iconturtlesyndromeqxz:
turtlesyndromeqxz Featured By Owner May 2, 2011
I just wanted to let you know that I've made a new account and all my stuff will now be going on there.
New account: ~unequivocaltruth.
Thanks! :heart:
Reply
:icontheafterwhys:
TheAfterWhys Featured By Owner May 2, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
=] Thank you for letting me know. :hug:
Reply
:iconpoemfb:
poemFB Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2011   Writer
I think you should know you're immensely talented, and my eyes enjoy the pretty words you create. thatsallkbye.
Reply
:icontheafterwhys:
TheAfterWhys Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. Even if just a few people pause, after reading what I write, I am happy.
Reply
:iconkindfullove12:
kindfullove12 Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2011  Student General Artist
happy deviantart birthday! :D
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