~grew-up-a-screw-up

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About Varied / Student Member grew-up-a-screw-upFemale/United Kingdom

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by ~grew-up-a-screw-up, Sep 23, 2012, 1:32:42 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I am the girl who hides between moth eaten paper backs
And slips into bookstores and devours leather bound spines
I am chloroform lips bitten down, red and rosy
Ink stained finger tips that fold book pages between my pupils

I'm the girl who drowns herself in coffee and cough drops
While remaining curled between Tennyson and Steinbeck
Wasting days wondering why grass is green
And how it can be greener for others and not I

Then I realized its all artificial food colouring
And polystyrene picket fences
Sticky notes yellowed at the edges reminding myself how to smile
I've pasted them on my skin in makeshift paper Mache armour
But like all mangled words I will be thrown inside a wastebasket
Saved for a rainy day

Snow White Syndrome

by ~grew-up-a-screw-up, Mar 5, 2013, 1:57:48 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

I seem to have forgotten the sound of my own heartbeat Splitting apart my limbs I've found the source of my insanity Coiled around veins and arteries Star dust and a lazy man’s drug Has put me to sleep under fictitious pretenses Of forbidden apples and two faced prince charming’s

Newest Deviations

A dream like state of asphyxiationYou are the blood flowing in and out of my veins
Into shards of black skies and crescent moons
Hanging from our palms and brushing our lips

The extinguished light of your eyelids
No longer burns bright
Rather they smolder between
Stolen glances and sips of tea

My blanket features are coming undone
Much like the seams of my scarecrow heart
Childhood nostalgia has never seemed so bleakA dream like state of asphyxiation by ~grew-up-a-screw-up

23 Comments

The lost one's weepingListening attentively to the burnt out sounds
Rusted wrists don’t know how to do anything
Other than to harm
Crack open the loaded guns
Clench a cigarette between breaths

I’d come to realize lungs are suffocating
So I cut them out with dandelion limbs
And tore out my eyes to avert my gaze
Aching for salvation I was greeted by empty pews
And broken hymn books scattered among the graves

Lost lamb prodigal son, there is no home to return to
Only ruins and car crash features lay
Where tombstones used to standThe lost one's weeping by ~grew-up-a-screw-up

18 Comments

A half visible mirage rots in broad daylightI think I fell down a hole
That was six feet too deep
And I don’t know
If I want to climb out anymore

Because it’s so wonderful down here where the stars
No longer hold meaning
And voices can no longer be heard
Over the sound of decaying matter
Waiting to be recycledA half visible mirage rots in broad daylight by ~grew-up-a-screw-up

31 Comments

The ambiguous border of realityI tipped the sun on its side
Flayed open it stung my kneecaps

Corroded clouds stripped away
The last remaining semblance of my slit throat
Finger tips and bleached eye lids

There is no use for lock and key breaths
Nor acid washed palpitations echoing
In empty rooms where ghosts sing and the raindrops bleedThe ambiguous border of reality by ~grew-up-a-screw-up

28 Comments

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we're just two kids that can't share toysremember back when me and you used
to go swim and get high and that one time
at mayhem, when i had the greatest time of my life?
you had these pale greengold irises and you were always
madder than hell about it, 'cause they weren't
real bright or bold. i always thought that was funny
about you, you know i mean how most girls
get so sad and scared about their stomach or thighs
or the sound of their laugh, not the colour of their eyes.
christ, do you remember
that time when we hung out and
smoked hookah in your backyard
and i hit my head trying to open up the hot tub
by myself, and i insisted that i was fine that i didn't need
ice and goddamnwe're just two kids that can't share toys by =vvolatile

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sleeping in the lavatory by =slowslicksnails

45 Comments

jointedi remember days of holding your hands
and swearing they felt so heavy,
the synovial fluid that welled up
around your joints was liquid lead
for years i wished to give you
one thousand of my white blood cells
for each day i had to leave you
stranded on the kitchen floor
and when i finally learned the words
i wanted to tell you:
the doctors never made you stronger
with any injection or titanium bones
but you did yourself
every morning you stood
and opened your eyes
because today,
a woman asked me
if i would like to take home flowers for you
and i wanted to ask if in the coolers
she had enough yellow roses
to fill the spaces between your
kneecaps and every joint that ever ached
so maybe you would come back alive
if i could promise
pain wouldn't greet you jointed by ~AlloenDreams

2 Comments

Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
fleeting,
evaporating
through the cracks of
my fingers and high

above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
words,
silences,
or actions
could possibly satiate it.

I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
or stretched
so far
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devoDry Spell by ~HoldTheNoise

9 Comments

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I wear one too many bracelets

by ~grew-up-a-screw-up, 1 week, 3 days ago
Journals / Personal

Mood: Repulsed

I
Don't
know
what
to
do
anymore

somebody
make
it
fucking
stop

43 Comments

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deviantID

~grew-up-a-screw-up

Artist | Student | Varied

United Kingdom

So this is where I write something about myself in which you (the person reading this) will judge my character on. I generally don' t like filling these things in since I feel narcissistic and I never really know what to write about in here anyway. I mean I just learn about myself and that's rather dull in my opinion. So, how are you? Are you having an okay day? If not I hope you have a lovely day anyway. If you really are interested in knowing "me" then note me and I can learn about you too, it'll be like an exchange and it'll be not only more fair but fun!

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Journal History

May 8, 2013 I wear one too many bracelets
Apr 13, 2013 I don't know what to write here
Mar 26, 2013 pep talk from an angst-y teen.
Mar 11, 2013 Ill with the plague
Feb 21, 2013 ***
Dec 27, 2012 Tangents and chocolate soda
Nov 7, 2012 Alive and kicking...sort of.
Oct 27, 2012 Devious Journal Entry
Oct 17, 2012 tag you're it!
Oct 10, 2012 I have a new love object

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Comments

~svenspade09 2 days ago

You done with finals?

~grew-up-a-screw-up 16 hours ago Student General Artist

I wish, I have an English exam on Monday, and on Tuesday I have an RE and English exam. In a nutshell I have 12 exams left, the last one's on the 18th of june. *cries in a corner*

~svenspade09 56 minutes ago

Holy crap US/ Texas schools are out June firstish and college summer classes start, I'm not taking any its break time for me. I wish you the best and hope everything goes good.

~VermilionFly 3 days ago Student

I thank you, yes YOU for the favorite you beautiful creature.

~grew-up-a-screw-up 16 hours ago Student General Artist

Don't mention it friend!

~svenspade09 May 9, 2013

hope finals went ok?

~grew-up-a-screw-up May 9, 2013 Student General Artist

today was the start of them, I had a 10 hour art exam so I'm finishing the other 5 hours tomorrow. thanks for asking c:

*Emma-hime May 10, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I have to say, I have only read three of your poems (in order of their submission) but I have concluded that one day you are going to go places as a writer. You've shown great young talent here with a wonderful way with words/language that while reading your work clicks a switch in me where I feel an energy/igniting in me while reading.
This is the sort of poetry I go for.

~grew-up-a-screw-up 4 days ago Student General Artist

Thank you for taking the time to read my poems at all, it truly means a lot. Thank you so much for the support and lovely comment, I hope I can continue to live up to such high praise. Thank you so much.

*Emma-hime May 10, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Also I would be honoured if one such as yourself would be able to stop by my gallery.

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Snow White Syndrome

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