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About Literature / Hobbyist Chloe U.Female/United States Recent Activity
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Yesterday i attempted to find the means to express my feelings to you,
to describe the way it feels when your hair curls round your head
like thorns thatching itself upon sleeping beauty's castle,
how when your eyes lock onto mine i wish i could throw the key away.
And your voice is mellifluous,
like birds chirping at sunrise, my day hasn't started until i've heard your call,
and you're the sun;
the world tipping and singing to your every rise and fall-
But despite the million sentiments and more i send to you,
none define the faultless paradigm you are 
or my nonsensical rapture towards your spirit,
but there's no need for any explanations,
for if your love can be explained, then it's no love at all;
You, my dear, have nothing to worry about,
for my love to you transcends all means of understanding.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 10 0
if you asked me why my poetry is ugly
first i'll tell you it isn't poetry; it is a self-portrait of words.
next i'll tell you i don't use paint for my portraits;
i use the blood that escapes my wounds as they come.
and sometimes there isn't enough blood,
and sometimes there's just too much,
so instead of painting i lay there,
my mouth filling with iron and salt.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 12 5
Amongst the Fallen Petals
we sent our letters to heaven
because we thought maybe then your mother could hear
that you got an a on your math test
or that you finally stood up to that class bully
but i guess you decided that was a waste of time
because instead of sending your letters to heaven
you sent a knife straight through your gut
and you managed to turn that hoary carpet red
and now i have to eke out a life
where i somehow manage to live without you.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 11 3
I wrapped an aureole round my head,
so contrived to receive absolution,
and I threw myself down on my hands and knees,
so self-abasing, ad nauseum,
playing puritanical, acting vestal,
how abhorring, ad infinitum.
I did not acquiesce, I
I believed those apocryphal dogmas,
these non-empirical maxims,
these obsolete axioms.
And then I picked up my feet,
Consider this nullibiety; I don't know where I shall stand at the end of the day.
Consider this malfeasance; I left behind everything I once knew that day.
Consider this nonage; my actions are mutable to this day.
All I'm certain of is heretofore, I've never felt this clos
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 6 2
    It's getting harder and harder to push this boulder around.
    It's not depression it's a perpetual lethargy. So I'm not bleeding grey I'm just tired all the time. I don't know why I'm so worn out all of a sudden. Maybe it's because I'm so fucking ungrateful sometimes, wishing for that, thinking she should've said this or he should've done that. It gets me so fucking pissed at myself because I got things people could only wish they have, but I've taken for granted. Anger's a waste of time. It just takes up all the thoughts in your head, all the energy in your soul, and turns them black. Anger's a hurtful thing, and throwing rage upon yourself is ultimately self-destructive. Maybe that's why I'm so tired all of a sudden, I'm just beating myself up and wringing me out.
    And maybe that's just why it's just been so hard to deal with this hardship, to push this boulder around. My adversities had never grown stronger, it's just my resistance has gro
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 8 0
I'm so tired of all the sweethearts and young beaus
comparing their loves to the stars,
the infinitesimal specks of luminiferous ether up yonder,
yet I'll chop off all the stars in the cosmos
as if they were hanging from a thread in a little boy's room,
so you can be the only guiding light in the night sky.
I'm so tired of all the heartthrobs and exalting admirers
comparing their loves to the angels of above,
the cold and placid sentinels of immateriality, incorporeality,
yet I'll turn all the diaphanous clouds of the heavens into concrete,
where it shall plummet from the firmament like its own fallen seraphs
and you can rise from the ashes, a sempiternal empress of veneration.
And I'm so tired of all the lovers and grandiloquent infatuates 
comparing their loves to the platitudes of today,
their meanings lost to tumbleweeds and detritus,
yet this is how it
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 19 18
and your name isn't written in ink
no, it's burned into my skin,
biting and licking its way up my arm
until my skin is black like obsidian,
charred like used firewood.
and i don't expect you to retrace your steps
back into your perpetual hell.
no need to make reparations
when there's nothing left to fix.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 17 13
White Lily Curtains
If I'm a mouse then you must be the mousetrap,
except you don't need the cheese;
your eyes are pits you fall into.
They're dark like the night sky,
yet they shine like the stars above.
I wonder if you notice the umbrella
I hold above your head when it rains,
but then again probably not; watching you go
reminds me of watching balloons slipping
from my grasp, and they're drifting up,
until pop, and you're gone.
Maybe you're just a graveyard,
harboring dead souls within your body,
and your voice is a death sentence.
Maybe your mouth is my coffin,
and your love is a blue rose,
so wonderfully impossible,
reaching for it will have me
falling like Icarus, my blood
spilling out like ink blotting
hideously on paper, until all
that's left is the milky gray.
And maybe that's alright.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 13 13
Parents fighting again. Earplugs on. Again.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 19 23
maybe your heart is just made of tar;
all it ever does is pollute.
the starless silt is asphyxiating;
funny how something so dark
can be my guiding light.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 16 14
maybe i like eating overripe fruit
it reminds me of your love
long overdue
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 19 20
when the gates to heaven shatter
and glass falls from the sky
watch as you indulge yourself 
with the dream of a once upon a time
with the ink from your wounds
painting the world ash grey
maybe i should find solace in you,
my everlasting day.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 19 22
love poems to no one.
Darling, your laughter on a cold day
reminds me of the medicine
my mother used to give me
when my fever was 102 and rising;
it's bitter and acrid
but it works on me anyway.
And you, you dazzling succubus, 
you beautiful disappointment,
there's no time for love
when you're in repose,
pushing up daisies
in the barren fields of Asphodel,
but that's no reason to not try.
You, dear, are a mystery that will never be solved,
a lock with no key, a point of no return.
I am in no state to be addicted to the idea of your love,
but you find your way into my daydreams,
and make them come true.
The past is fossilized in your amber eyes,
the way to your heart is surrounded
by a storm that will never pass.
And I will never be able to brave
the tempest within you, 
But in this moment,
pain has never felt more beautiful.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 25 14
Denouement (Day 10)
What is left of my mind
that you don't already know?
I've split myself in half,
and watch you taste 
my bitter soul,
lapping up all my guts
'til there's nothing left of
my feeble existence. 
I'm willing to give my all
to these phantoms behind the screen,
let thim sink deep down into my very being,
a place that should be left for those
who's already booked with 
a special place in my heart. 
And for what? A meek,
sympathetic reply, a
side glance at my problems?
No, this isn't what I'm
doing this for. It can't be. 
I've fallen in love
with this pixelated universe,
a place where I can hide 
from the real world,
which holds the source
of my pain and hardships. 
So here's my confession:
I have no more confessions. 
Within me, I contain
too much confidence 
for this cyber world around us. 
So much so, I quiver at the thought,
of telling someone these same things
face to face. 
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 10 4
Conflate (Day 9)
One of the best
and worst
decisions I've made
was to depict the 
whole world
in ink letters.
But I've been having
second thoughts.
Almost like a dog with
second thoughts,
when it realizes
they're going to the vet.
This, what I do.
Is it truly
worth it? Or
am I just snatching at 
wisps of smoke?
in the pursuit of perfection.
A nation,
where acclaim is the vision.
I must find the perfect confection
I find my dream go up in crimson.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 11 0
Cynosure (Day 8)
Wit and intellect
go hand in hand,
like how our hands
shall align
if your IQ is on par
with mine. 
Laughter is directly linked 
to happiness.
Grant me the wings that
send me shooting
through Earth, soaring through
the air like a baby bird taking
its first flight, then lay me gently
back down, a feather floating through
the zephyr until softly touching the ground.
Send me another cyclone thereafter
to fire me into the heavens,
rocking back and forth like a baby in its cradle,
until I'm out of breath, weary. 
He who wanders among the living like a Frankenstein,
ripping pieces off for others faster than
he could ever hope to replace them;
He who slays the dragon to save the world
rather than to win the girl's heart;
He who listens because he knows no one else will;
There's a place for you
in my mind, my soul,
my heart.....
Now I just need to find you.
:iconstarlightt1234:starlightt1234 10 5
Make way for the discontinued stories and shit poetry! :iconfeelingfreeplz:


Happy holidays from deviantART!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through dA,
Not a troll was stirring, nor Grinch in his sleigh.
Deviations were hung in digital Galleries with care,
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The n00bs were nestled all snug in their beds,
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And Fella in his 'kerchief, and spyed with his night-light,
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When over in the Forums there arose such a clatter,
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To the browser window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the tabs and refreshed the cache.
When what to his art-loving eyes should appear,
But an animated sleigh and eight commissioned reindeer,
With a little old driver, so creative and slick,
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More rapid than broadband, his reindeer were famed,
After all his favorite art
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What It Takes To Fly by yuumei What It Takes To Fly :iconyuumei:yuumei 32,923 801 Horse by IllegalHamsterThe Horse :iconillegalhamsterthe:IllegalHamsterThe 232 14 Battle with lionar - WIP II by hontor Battle with lionar - WIP II :iconhontor:hontor 166 7 Battle with lionar - WIP again) by hontor Battle with lionar - WIP again) :iconhontor:hontor 244 8 Boreal dreams by GeneRazART Boreal dreams :icongenerazart:GeneRazART 501 57 Alysia by Nagashia Alysia :iconnagashia:Nagashia 69 18 Strawberry Brownie Cake by Tiefenschaerfe Strawberry Brownie Cake :icontiefenschaerfe:Tiefenschaerfe 333 54 F*** you by MonsieArts
Mature content
F*** you :iconmonsiearts:MonsieArts 19 5
Losers by MonsieArts Losers :iconmonsiearts:MonsieArts 15 0 ABOVE KICHIK-ASHLAMA-DERE VALLEY by Badusev ABOVE KICHIK-ASHLAMA-DERE VALLEY :iconbadusev:Badusev 85 21 Postcard from Istanbul 16a by JACAC Postcard from Istanbul 16a :iconjacac:JACAC 106 56 THE ROCK FACES OF KHAYALAR by Badusev THE ROCK FACES OF KHAYALAR :iconbadusev:Badusev 39 10 Berry Sweet by ZandyPop Berry Sweet :iconzandypop:ZandyPop 30 1
Use Your Judgement
"Grams," She cautiously sat down on the floor in front of the squeaky old rocking chair. "I was hopin' for some advice. Y'see there's a kid in my class, Loraine Dixie, an' she's been bein' really mean to me. Should I tell our teacher or should I rough her up, Grams?"
"Use your judgement, dear." The little girl's Grandmother continued spinning yarn with her bony fingers. "Make a sensible decision all by yourself, Lilly Lynn."
The girl sighed and headed outside. She trudged through the corn field out back, and cut clear across Mr. Johnston's backyard, to Loraine Dixie's house. Lilly Lynn sat on Loraine's swing for hours watching the sun set behind the one story farmhouse. But she couldn't find the courage. So she went home, and after a quick scolding from her Mama, she went to sleep.
The next afternoon Lilly Lynn told her teacher about Loraine, who told the principal, who told Mrs. Dixie, who whooped her child with a wooden spoon until her bottom was sore. When Loraine Dixie came back to
:iconsarcasticcupcake5:SarcasticCupcake5 11 15
Cheers erupted from our small group of friends as the elevator finally appeared in front of us. It meant we could escape; it meant we were finally free from them all.
But our cheers subsided as a man walked out of the elevator. He handed Ryan a letter, tipped his hat, then went back up into the elevator.
We were all curious; of all people, why does Ryan get the letter?
I looked over his shoulder, curious, but trying not to seem rude. As Ryan opened the card, the very first thing I noticed was a name at the very bottom of the card.
Tears formed in Ryan’s eyes. I stopped looking at the card, thinking that it probably wasn’t something I was supposed to read. I didn’t know who Johanna was, but I assumed it was Ryan’s younger sister or something.
“Ryan, why are you crying?” I asked him.
He wiped a few tears from his eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. He, being a jock and all, probably didn’t want everyone knowing he cri
:iconfierydownpour479:FieryDownpour479 3 10
These are some cool stuff that I think are cool because they're cool.


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as the days go by
i grow increasingly
less and less satisfied
i find myself attempting to satiate this feeling
bleeding out the emotion until it's dry

and as i continue down this path
indulging in ridiculous extravagances
and driving myself insane over this hacked farce

i find all i want is you


Journal History


Chloe U.
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Sup, guys! How you doin'? :iconhappywaveplz:

Already you have passed the first test to becoming a cool guy cuz you're here.....THE BEST PROFILE IN ALL OF dA!

Kidding, you should probably check out other people. They're pretty cool, too.


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Venice125GilmoreNT Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fav: I Won The Fight
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Thanks for the ego stroke by SavvyRed
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Hugs From Me To You by LOVEMAYU
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Thank you for the favorites! :love:
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I hope you have a great day!!!:hug:s
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