Art dump #?

zelfportrait

So, I decided to make some space on my blog for drawings. This is my latest. Self-portrait.

 

tragedy

OC’s. Based on excerpts/headcanons from my book.

 

Really old ones that you might have seen before.

 

Also kind of old ones that I’ve never posted.

 

Some from my sketch-book. The latter, illustration to go with my post Morphazine.

 

17858629_1384709768288465_2141699201_o

Last one. Anxiety attack, illustrated. Kind of a quick vent-art from this week, which has offered quite a few challenges and breakdowns. As you can see.

 

All works (c) me.

The Weyward Sisters: Songs of Ophelia A Collaboration from the Women of Sudden Denouement

Showcasing this proud, collaborative poem with my kick-ass sisters from SD.

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

you must remember

rosemary, pansies, fennel,

columbine and rue,

You forgot tansy, didn’t you?

When the ground freezes over

And your flowers crumble and brown

Let the ice in Hamlet’s Heart

And the Red on his hands

Deliver him forever from you.

And when you return again

From your journey to the sea

Never forget

It is you.

It was never he.

Rana Kelly/2nd star to the Left, straight on ’til morning

I sat and watched the current roll by today

I think I’d like to float away to a place that I cannot say

You were always directing the rivers flow

I trusted you knew where it would go

But you let me go adrift

Dream chaser isn’t that what you always said?

You’re where the love has always been

Dream chaser dream chaser

don’t mock me now

Its not always the same

You will find me in this…

View original post 374 more words

Slut

I took his saliva and distributed it evenly
over my soaring wounds
I was a harlot again
filthy consolation girl throwing my skin off
for anyone who as much as touched me

But they couldn’t know
what was going on behind my shut eyelids
They didn’t know of the man following me everywhere
Sitting on my shoulders
Sucking on my bruises

They didn’t know he was cruel
they never heard him yell into their heads
things they only speak of in hell
or lower elementary school

Neither could they know
our battle was a long fought one
while he built towers for me
I would sit there
like some fucking Rapunzel, awaiting a savior
or maybe just a momentary relief
a rough canoodle
behind the labyrinth of thorns
the moment
someone would come up to me and say
“hey. I like the things you do”
I would be stunned
over how they dared to challenge this monster
whose bare apparition would have turned the noblest knight around
there are, in all honesty, some battles
better left unfought
but I would look up at them and their face would beam
and it was then it hit me
that they couldn’t see him
they didn’t know they’d just stepped up and thrown a rock into a volcano. They didn’t know the glimmering light in which they appeared to be illuminated.

They thought I knew all of this.

I don’t.

Miscarriage

It’s all so much easier now
As blood is flowing down my thighs, I lean back on the hospital bed
The memory of you forcing your way inside me
Fading with the pain
I don’t care, I want everything out of me,
the twitching
the turning
the hope of a new life
bleeds out on the floor
I thought I could make something beautiful
out of my shame
tame my monster
into something people could look at
and appreciate
And I would forget
that I never wanted you in the first place
But it’s easier
being empty
filled with nothing
To give up half way there
Rather than experience the horror of birth
The possibility of you tearing me apart
From the inside
“Stay dead”, I whisper at the sweet nothing
deformed little fetus lying limp on the floor
between my feet
before I wipe away the blood
and exit trough the emergency door

 

Malicia

On my experience with being a girl

“You’re beautiful,
but you are cold,” he said
I replied,
“I am what I need to be”
A caged animal who loves in secret
Trying to hide underneath my own skin
All tucked in,
like a larva in a chrysalis, refusing to turn
Even the razors cannot sweep my conscience clean
And the sink’s always full of hairs

I learned to cut my wings with a pair of nail clippers
(They looked awful, sticking out of my shoulders)
I listened to tales of princesses in need and wondered
Did I have to be rescued, too
Boys calling me ugly words
I’ll bite their heads off
Alone, in my room
I cry over the taste of their blood and loss of innocence

I tried many times to breathe under water
Tying myself to the bottom, waiting for a mermaid tail to grow
But fins are no good on land
So I had to crawl my way back home
each time

Just a little poem about something important to me. Inspiration for this struck me when I saw the art of Alice HJ, as seen above.
Malicia

I wish you could be kissed

You, you filthy abomination,
you who sleep in my veins by day,
whispering horrors in my ear at night,
I wish you could be kissed.

You, green-eyed phantasm
who forever will be waiting for me
inside a cold prison cell
I wish you could be kissed.

It’s 3 am again and I’m kissing my knuckles
their metallic taste
the burden of hits undelivered
I wish they could be cherished

He, with wings inside me
Painfully wrapped around my heart
How I wish he’d let me be
Oh, how I wish he’ll never leave

This one runs deep.
/Malicia

Samsara

As a child, I always dreamed of being weightless
To fly trough each night
in orbit with the stars
Then the lumps started to grow in my shoulders
Making my wings so heavy
And space grew cold and cruel
Devouring life
I learned to love these lumps as beings
Creatures possessing great intelligence and beauty
Attached to me,
they used to hold me down
Now they are all flying with me
As we dream each other away,
far beyond earths grasp
(it’s the only place we’ll really exist)
We’ll give birth to galaxies out there

[Samsara: Deliverance, restoration, or elevation of the natural world to a higher, better state from fundamentally negative conditions, such as suffering, evil, death, or Samsara is known as Salvation or Liberation. Also, a Sanskrit word meaning going or wandering through, undergoing transformation.]

Malicia