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About Deviant Artist VioletFemale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
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Literature
Version 2
And you
Reel me in again
With words designed
To induce pity and incite forgiveness
You use my affection
Against me
Heartsick
I succumb
To subtle seduction
Knowing I will leave feeling
Used; my self-respect degraded
In increments
The neglect begins
When you chose to forgo
The common courtesies
Like goodbye
And later
Hello
The last person to ask if
I was really doing ok
Lives continents
And time-zones
Out-of-sync
Yet
Attuned
But You
A mere mile away
Can’t read the resonance
You created with your [presence/absence]
You
Distort the field of energy
Feeding on negativity
Exacerbating
An       already       heavy       burden
Like magnets
We attract each other
Creating a gravity I can’t escape
And.I.am.broken.by.it.
You'd never hurt me
Without consent,
But when
Did I give you permission
To bruise my heart?
Still
It is nothing
      nothing
      nothing
Like the suffering I see around me so
I brush it off a
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 1 2
Literature
Open letter to Syria
We are not our government.
We do not hate you.
I want to help you and I am powerless.
I have only words and they are too quiet to be heard.
I want to go back in time and inscribe peace into the first alphabet, in Damascus.
We are all only human.
We have created such astonishing wonders. And such atrocity.
I am sorry. I do not condone the destruction.
I do not know what to do.
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 1 2
Literature
Again
Where are you now?
Are you happy?
I have ten thousand questions that will go unasked
Unanswered.
I was dreaming about you again;
A silent movie
You'll never see this
It will drift like dry snow through the barren world of nondescript words that orbit in your periphery.
You could find me if you wanted to.
It's how I know you don't.
I want
To Forget
the myth I believed in.
Love
Is a blade that cuts you after it's removed.
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 2 0
Literature
I can't sleep, Aci
There is nothing in all of the world that I have yet seen, that can make me believe that it is worth living in without you.
I have carried this heartache through every waking moment, and I have dreamed every night of you.
I believed enough in those three words to keep living in spite of everything that told me I was not fit for this life. I sustained myself on my promises to you that I would live.
I had faith in us, and that was all. You were my guiding light, my true love.
There is nothing but darkness without you.
I cannot understand how after 7 years I could be so easily replaced, within days, with someone else.
How could you do this to me?
I have so many questions that whole books would overflow with them.
I have tried to find sanity in it all. I have tried to reach a form of closure. I worked for months on the project I believed could begin the process of change, that I could finally begin to heal.
But you refused to see my work.
You would not read the words.
In my dreams, you wil
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 1 3
Literature
The rules of staring into space
Give me space
I want to behold the universe
devoid of light
take the stars and drown them for me
extinguish the sentinels
and murder the gods
remove the chaos equation
in favour of perfect oblivion
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 3 0
Literature
Heartbreak
It doesn’t just hit you like a bullet
Shattering your ribs and lodging,
Cold iron agony,
Between your ribs
Flooring you on impact
And leave you too bleed quietly to death
With the ringing echoes of shock
Pounding as your heart beats out
Hastening your demise
No.
It is not a fatal wound
Though you wish it was
It has clipped past vital organs,
Missed arteries
Bypassed veins
Settling as a passenger in your chest
So, in spite of excruciating torment
You rise
And continue on.
It doesn’t hit you like a single bullet,
But many.
The second is almost worse
You are weakened
And you cannot believe that you could survive
Such a thing again.
But you do.
For all your pain, you do.
The unrelenting torture from the first
Does nothing to numb the anguish of the second
Or the third
Or the fourth
Or the innumerable blows that will hit you
In the coming days
Weeks
Months
Of that first year.
You will be walking wounded;
Subject to a psychic assault
By invisible foes
Leaving imperceptible lacera
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 1 2
Literature
Awake. Alone. Not Lonely.
Morning.
Sky: bright.
Early.
Awake.
Alone, but warm.
Comfortable. Serene.
The knife in my heart
Twists
As expected
But the pain is... distant.
Intensity: diminished.
As though someone has poured anaesthetic down the blade,
And drop by drop
It enters my chest cavity.
Slight numbness;
Still the pressure,
but infinitesimally less pain.
I think of you, to test myself.
Ouch.
Small discomfort.
I whisper your name.
Oh, beloved. I still miss you.
But the crushing agony abates.
Perhaps only for today.
I resolve to make the most of it.
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 1 0
Literature
After
They will say that I was a troubled young woman,
And that I lacked the proper support.
They will say that I was failed by the system;
And that I had been let down.
Someone will make unfounded accusations,
And try to find a way to cast the blame.
They will say that I was kind and generous,
And that I will be dearly missed.
They will tell delicate white lies about me,
And say all the expected clichés.
They will say that I was beautiful, or special,
And other meaningless, untrue things.
They will say that they were proud of me,
And that I will be remembered.
Strangers will comment "such a tragedy, what a loss"
And other all-purpose insincerities.
They will say I fought long and bravely,
And hide the post mortem report.
They will look through my possessions,
And pass my belongings on to charity.
They will find my strange fanciful writings,
And wonder how no one really knew me at all.
They will, perhaps, read even this,
And ask themselves how I knew.
They will say that it is not your
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 1 0
Literature
Ocean Eyes
I saw the ocean in your eyes,
And now I cannot look upon the sea,
Without seeing you,
Staring back at me,
Gold-flecked blue;
Wonder-awed
Shining rays dancing on the deep,
Waves and ripples,
Sapphire and topaz,
Currents pull me in,
Tides that swept me off my feet,
I would gladly float adrift in your gaze,
Swim forever in gilded azure,
Lapis and cyan.
You eyes made me beautiful;
Drenched me in light,
And painted me with care.
These eyes hold only muddy water,
Inexorably dragging me down,
Into the grey-green lonely pools,
The shallows above oblivion,
Drowning in the intoxicating desire,
To be, even for a moment,
Not unwanted
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 2 0
Literature
Fabricated thoughts
Sometimes you can't use someone elses words to say what would otherwise remain unspoken, all the songs that seemed written for this moment do not belong to me...
Our pain is our company, our solace or sanctuary, but if we let it become to familiar we lose sight of the bright and shining path. We could walk out of here with our head held high, with a semblance of dignity, unless I have lost that too. I wanted to have your respect, and I don't know if I still deserve that. I question whether I have even a shred of hope left, I am stripped bare, and I hold close around the the frayed and tattered remenants of old dreams... but they are not what keep me warm at night, now I have a temporary dream, and as I look out with the eyes of a cynic I don't see a future, only a brief moment that perhaps I will come to regret - but not yet.
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 0 0
Literature
Incompletionist
I will always carry the burden of knowing that none shall ever see as I see, that the most beautiful things cannot be shared in words or touch, that thoughts cannot transfer in the meeting of eyes or the sharing of breath, that magic is only a word for fantasy... and yet, there is always a treacherous hope, that one day, by some infinite wonder there will be a moment that can be completed, the brush of two souls merging for a single perfect instant, to feel complete.
I simultaneously wish for autonomy and completion; for individuality and to find my twin. I know that there must be a compromise, and finding it will not be painless. Maybe there is no missing part of my soul, perhaps this feeling of being less that whole will haunt me until the day I die, that it is a purposeless idea born before I could formulate conscious thought. Maybe all this time I have been looking at shadows and mirrors, and waiting for my other self, has been in vain. It’s hard to let go of the desire for s
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 0 5
Mature content
I will Not give in. :iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 2 3
Literature
Grey Eyed Lies
I hide behind false new eyes,
Ashen for the burned out lies,
Barely concealed burning embers,
Eyes that beg you to remember,
I dare you; look in my eyes now,
My soul is safe, barred; in lock-down,
I have no fear, you cannot see,
Truths buried in the heart of me.
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 2 5
Literature
Heartfelt
This reckless restless heart,
Is pounding poison through my veins,
Burning up from the inside out,
Inferno
This frozen, numb, untouchable heart,
Is driving ice into my core,
Don’t touch; you’ll catch your death of me,
Cryosphere
This empty shadow heart,
Is eating up the light in me,
Abysmal, infinite, consuming,
Void
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 2 4
Literature
Poetry from the Night
I am diamond dusted,
Glittering motes adorn the black wool that wraps me against the chill,
The sparkle glints and dies beneath street lamp on a deserted road,
Gazing up into the glare I watch the hazy softfall
Of mist turn the night to rapture
A single breath could scatter me
Into a million fragments,
The slightest breeze cast me out;
So much dust of the wind,
The ashes of a former being.
That none bear witness is excruciating pain,
Proper in its purity,
For no words can capture this perfect, lonely moment;
Nor hold it in a snowglobe riven from time,
Such profound experience,
Never can be shared.
Bereft at its passing;
The death of a thought
Is borne aloft on aching strings,
The symphony my soul craves,
Unfinished...
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 2 2
Literature
Unrequited (Unfinished)
I am afraid to guess the colour of your eyes,
For I will never have courage to meet them,
I fear I will see my other self; reflected,
Or that in those depths I will be lost.
But greater still, the apprehensive trepidation,
That kills the uninitiated curious glance.
In the centre of the storm, should I remain unseen,
An empty aperture would be too dark to bear.
Disproportionate paroxysms of feeling,
Unencumbered by focus or direction,
A cataclysm of paradox, belief and denial,
Surely such breadth and depth of emotion,
Must be greater than the product a single soul?
The tentative dissolution of intent,
Carefully, painstakingly, deconstructed;
Each thought and founding desire,
Unchannelled and unacknowledged,
Remains safely but ever unsaid.
A secret held in stasis,
Forever shadowed by doubt,
Is unweighted in the void,
Hence the refusal to call forth,
A single strand of truth,
From the coiled and tensioned mass,
Preventing by deceit,
The deluge of following aches,
And unrequited cares,
The
:iconVioletRaven:VioletRaven
:iconvioletraven:VioletRaven 5 0

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Activity


A thought, a recurrence, a conviction.
It hit my like a battering ram to the centre of my chest
Days ago
Should have been years ago
A thought oft considered
Never framed as such
Unnamed it was ephemera
These days
It hefts weight, a burden I'll soon lift

There is nothing here for me
Now.

Counting. Down.
7 down, 13 to go
You know all my lucky numbers
Turned out to be bad omens?
It would be funny
If I weren't drowning in the irony

I have so much to do
So much to atone for
And so little time
And you
Reel me in again
With words designed
To induce pity and incite forgiveness
You use my affection
Against me


Heartsick
I succumb
To subtle seduction
Knowing I will leave feeling
Used; my self-respect degraded
In increments


The neglect begins
When you chose to forgo
The common courtesies
Like goodbye
And later
Hello


The last person to ask if
I was really doing ok
Lives continents
And time-zones
Out-of-sync
Yet
Attuned


But You
A mere mile away
Can’t read the resonance
You created with your [presence/absence]
You
Distort the field of energy
Feeding on negativity
Exacerbating
An       already       heavy       burden


Like magnets
We attract each other
Creating a gravity I can’t escape
And.I.am.broken.by.it.


You'd never hurt me
Without consent,
But when
Did I give you permission
To bruise my heart?


Still


It is nothing
      nothing
      nothing
Like the suffering I see around me so
I brush it off and make your excuses
Defend you from concerned acquaintances
"I’m fine" (deep breaths) and smile emojis
Are all it takes to cover the chasm


I am masquerading as an
Independent “Woman”
But I feel more like an
Insignificant/Other
Diminished by the fact
That I could easily be replaced
By a housemaid and internet porn
There is
            Nothing
Special
About me
Other than perhaps
I have more loneliness to offset
Even than you
And I have never been able
To walk away from a lost cause
It is not
In my nature to
Give up on people




Except
Myself
Version 2
I wrote some stuff. Justification of words might not come out right for this upload so it's just a test.
Loading...
So vivid.
So real.
Every time I dream you it is as though this time you have come back to be, and I wake with the grief fresh as the first day I woke without you.
Teach me to forget as you did.
I woke still feeling your arms around me, and the ghost of your voice in my ear.
The certain scratch of you pencil on paper, that sharp delicate handwriting of yours, the notes you gave me, the sketches.
I feel too bereft to write. I make art without words. Not about you. I have already done that. The first year was spent creating and creating to fill the void where the lie called love use to reside.
The next I went out into the world to shape it, preserve it, appreciate it.
This year I have been making, drawing, learning, improving.
But none of it means anything without you.

In my dreams, we talk as we used to, when hours passed and tides changed and we had endless words to share and companionable silences that felt so comfortable.

I keep up the pretence. I laugh, smile, dress up, play. I make art, I dance - you never really saw me dance, but when we danced together on each others toes. This is not the same. This is alone. I learned so much, I have changed myself into a person you might not recognise.

But I grew back my hair. It is as it was when you met me. It was always part of my identity. I have 4 more years. I have committed now, and cannot cease. But there are other things that are coming back.

I just realised. Year 3 was the year of Eden. Maybe that is why it is back now, full force. 7 years since then, and the third year of each cycle. I believe in these repeats, I am confronted with them, but cannot anticipate them. I see them after the fact.

I am scared that this is the time it will kill me. but I have something left unfinished. I will stand at the stones and watch the twice risen moon. I will wait for you there. You promised. I will be free of this heartbreak by then, one way or another. There are still means I have not tried. There is a drug they are testing to remove unpleasant memories. Perhaps it will be developed further, to remove all of my beautiful happy memories with you. Maybe if I forget, it would be better. I would still dream, but you would be a stranger.

~

One day there will be nothing left of us,
Until then, reminders, memento's, miscellany,
Will continue to haunt,
The places I must leave.

~

The studio you helped me build will be destroyed.
A thought, a recurrence, a conviction.
It hit my like a battering ram to the centre of my chest
Days ago
Should have been years ago
A thought oft considered
Never framed as such
Unnamed it was ephemera
These days
It hefts weight, a burden I'll soon lift

There is nothing here for me
Now.

Counting. Down.
7 down, 13 to go
You know all my lucky numbers
Turned out to be bad omens?
It would be funny
If I weren't drowning in the irony

I have so much to do
So much to atone for
And so little time

deviantID

VioletRaven
Violet
Artist
United Kingdom
Current Residence: The depths of Insanity
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Isn't something to be proud of
Print preference: Free prints!
Favourite genre of music: Metal; heavy or symphonic, Instrumental, Soundtrack
Shell of choice: The kind I can hear the ocean in
Skin of choice: To be happy in my own skin
Favourite cartoon character: Raven of Asarath, Storm, Rogue, Maleficent, Shmendric the Magician
Personal Quote: Originality is dead, and I am still alive
Interests

Journal History

Comments


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:iconnaoiume:
NaoiUme Featured By Owner Mar 9, 2014
Thanks for the :+fav: :dance:
Reply
:iconvioletraven:
VioletRaven Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2014
You're welcome :)
Reply
:icondoomed-forever:
doomed-forever Featured By Owner Jan 23, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
thanks for the fave :)
Reply
:iconvioletraven:
VioletRaven Featured By Owner Feb 11, 2013
Most welcome
Reply
:icondoomed-forever:
doomed-forever Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
thx much, U2.
Reply
:iconurbanstar:
UrbanStar Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks so much for the comment and the fav :D
Reply
:iconvioletraven:
VioletRaven Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2013
You're very welcome :)
Reply
:icontultsi93:
tultsi93 Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2012  Hobbyist Artist
Thanks for the fav!:+favlove:
Reply
:iconsilvietepes:
SilvieTepes Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
:thanks:
Reply
:iconkthecard:
KtheCard Featured By Owner Jul 17, 2011  Student Writer
thanks so much for the watch. :heart:
Reply
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