smilee-shortee

carpe diem.

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vibrating hum. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

vibrating hum.

The car is cold and her hands are ice as she throttles the wheel in a white-knuckled grip, flying down the highway. The trees leap by and the sky stays a steady grey that not even the birds can penetrate and right now she wish she was one of them, nested far away, enjoying the warmth of the southern sun. Her shoulders quiver and her ankles ache but she pushes faster, faster, until the yellow strip of color in the middle of the road has become a blur and the green of the trees is disorienting and the sound of tires on gravel has turned to a vibrating hum.

i want you to hate me- by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

i want you to hate me-

"You can't possible hate yourself." "Thing is, I do. I properly do. I've never felt anything as intense as the hate I've got roiling in my veins. All that passion, circulating day in and day out… I've got nowhere else to keep it but in my blood. And that's… that's why… (rolls up sleeve, revealing many scars and fragile, bruised skin) That's why I do what I do. Because I want it out of me. For good. Problem is, I'm a coward."

metaphor is my middle name. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

metaphor is my middle name.

What is poetry? Poetry is the poet's blood and sweat spilt on parchment. Poetry is raw emotion weaved into words, tangled into stanzas. Poetry is beauty at its best, strung across paper for all to see and for only a few to value. To me, poetry is a task that I've never been particularly good at. Poetry always seemed like a foreign language with its intricate meanings and delicately formed words. It amazed me how a poet could put the Meaning of Life into a few uneven lines. I envied them, the poets with mental thesauruses and quick fingers. I suppose I couldn't grasp the vagueness that is required for all those who wish to pass as amateur po

je veux te tenir la main. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

je veux te tenir la main.

Nail bitten fingers dance across paper, writing what is unsaid. What I can never say. My heart is open wide, there are no boundaries to be found; no rules to be set. Worlds of freedom, stretching universe to universe: an endless rainbow of colors, people, places. But the words that please, they're smoke. I'll never catch them. The tips of our fingers brush, but hands we cannot hold.

famous last words. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

famous last words.

His fingers lightly traced her skin as he clasped the shining diamonds behind her neck. The cool stones, cut to perfection, kissed her overheated skin, causing her to shiver in his arms. "A beautiful necklace deserves a beautiful creature," he whispered, pressing his lips against the place where the fragile necklace met the back of her neck. "and you, my love, are the most exquisite of them all." She fingered the stone that pressed gently against her chest, trying desperately to breathe. She turned around to face him, lifting her hand to cup his cheek, stroking the rough skin. Her voice was shallow and hoarse and she hid her face in his che

mea culpa. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

mea culpa.

Black ink spilt from the heavens falls in tantalizing patterns coloring the sidewalks with the lost stories of the living. Purple bruised eyes watch children play on the graves of bullet shells and gasoline. Pale is the hand that brushes away the man's life, quivering to a beat that can only be heard by butterflies and falling trees. Between underaged fingers rest smoldering cigarettes that crave the taste of innocent lips. A demolished heart stands on a cliff edge, tethered to the undead ground by smoking tendrils, cold to the touch.

color of the day. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

color of the day.

The day was the color of pink that kissed my cheeks when you smiled at me. Light, burning pink that made me want to bury my face in your shoulder. I watched your large, strong hands replace mine, so weak and small. I closely examined your arms - tan, freckled - as you spoke to me (I'm sorry, the words were gibberish, but I could write novels about the sound of your voice). You lost yourself in your art, and I lost myself in the idea of you.

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vibrating hum. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

vibrating hum.

i want you to hate me- by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

i want you to hate me-

metaphor is my middle name. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

metaphor is my middle name.

je veux te tenir la main. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

je veux te tenir la main.

famous last words. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

famous last words.

mea culpa. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

mea culpa.

color of the day. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

color of the day.

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The Doctor by AndThenYou, literature

Literature

The Doctor

The doctor tutted, shaking his head and letting out an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, we have next to nothing to work with these days." He murmured, grasping the girl's chin and pulling it upwards so he could look more clearly into her face. "Brown eyes, brown hair... too commonplace. What I wouldn't give for a honest-to-God natural blonde or a redhead. Everyone's getting sick of all the dyed products we've had to make. Ugh. Well, give this one some blue eyes. Keep the freckles; maybe they'll add something more natural to her." The young man, eighteen at most, who had brought the girl into the room, nodded. He gently lifted the slender figure

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mea culpa. by smilee-shortee, literature

Literature

mea culpa.

smilee-shortee

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About smilee-shortee

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United States
Deviant for 13 years
She / Her

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My Bio

I'm a pretty normal (LIES) teenager who LOVES to read and write, and sometimes I think photography is pretty shnazzy but I'm not too great at it. I adore music and I often try to jump off the bandwagon, but I often end up back on it.

"Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia." - E.L. Doctorow

Current Residence: i'm a california gurl ;)
Favourite genre of music: anything with a catchy beat.
Operating System: MAC-daddy of 'em all.
MP3 player of choice: itouuch.
Shell of choice: hermit crab.
Skin of choice: i prefer my own, but, 'ya know, yours is pretty cool too.
Favourite cartoon character: spongebob & patrick star <3
Personal Quote: "We're all stories in the end."

Favourite Movies

spirited away & tangled.

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

mmm all of them?

Favourite Writers

Markus Zusak & Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Favourite Games

chutes & ladders.

Favourite Gaming Platform

chessboard?

Tools of the Trade

paper, pen, camera.

Other Interests

chocolate milk <3. reading, writing, photography, most anything that keeps my interest, i suppose

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smilee-shortee

May 18, 2011

I AM SO FREAKING BEHIND

0 min read

on everything. I'm behind on everything. Flopping over myself trying to get things done and letting myself get distracted by pretty trees and fluffy cats. I need an intervention. GAH. And don't even get me started on finals. Or school. Or life. ~whuuutPLZ (https://www.deviantart.com/whuuutplz)