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Some write with metaphor- They fill volumes like dance halls, engorged with the most beautiful patrons in the quilled rich silks, decadent and opaque in color, encrusted with jewels of vibrant hues to disguise the unsettling truth of their grotesque and tasteless nature. Some write of their recollections, fun houses filled with wisps and coarse stalks of memories distorted, exaggerated, (and hidden) to suit the author's liking. Some write of feelings using the chills brought by empathy to run rivers of quick sand through your eyes and into a soul stunned by emotions and ignorant of the lack of context to give that quicksand support. And I?

What is a thinker? What is he? What is she? Is a thinker this? Was a thinker this? Was a thinker obedient to these? Does he or she remain a slave to these creeds? Is a thinker loyal to any one belief or ideal? Is a thinker loyal to any of these ideals? Is a thinker loyal to any belief? Truly, what is a thinker? In my humble opinion, there is no true answer to such a question. For a thinker, in my belief, is anyone. Anyone that is not bound by any form of dogma. Hear me as I say what I believe a thinker is. A thinker is a free person. A thinker is one who actively observes the world around them. A thinker is one not bound by any rel

I am so bored of flowers. I dream in wounds Root-deep, And I am bored of trees Stretching to heaven; They'll never reach. I want to see the rot within, Scrambling insects gnawing on the insides, I want to taste the pollution, The city's poison To distill, bottle, and sell - humanity for consumption I want to scrape off the makeup, Turn the flesh inside out And lick the rot. Only then will flowers be beautiful. © 2013 themagpiepoet

After being on DeviantArt for a few years now, I've noticed patterns in people's stories. Patterns, that I can't say I've ever seen until I started using the internet. I believe that's because these kind of patterns are thoroughly unprofessional. The pattern in short is this: Character = victim Plot = bad things happening to said victim Maybe this sounds harsh. It's not if you understand that is ALL there is to these stories. They take any character, hurl them into a tragedy and that's it. Let's get this straight: We do not know your character well enough to care about them yet. No matter how bloody and gutty their injuries are, no matter

i don't sleep anymore. or at least i don't think i do. it's one of those things i stopped keeping track of like the number of words that make my mother cry (cancer, lists). if i'm being honest, i stopped sleeping (maybe) around the time i started thinking in a series of parentheses. because i don't sleep, my arteries demand too much air (oxygen, clean) from the space outside my window. i make my room my heart, cold. it fills with a wind only bricks can breathe, an ice only soil is willing to withstand. i am winter's soul. the world becomes a different place when you stop noticing sound (mute, black and white film) and start noticing every m

The Maze Divide reality from illusion Forwards is backwards Separate belief from redemption Success is failure Where shadow crosses light The ground meets my face I'm surrounded by lies The truth is too far away - Hope is this- ...Virus Faith is this- Injustice... Pain is this- ...Shameless It's just another dead end / It's filled with emptiness This is death's discontent / Resenting life's rhetorical existence Fear is this- ...Shapeless Chaos is this- Feverish... Peace is this- ...Blinded - An infinite cycle mocks Turn after turn The timelessness cannot stop As the same path is reborn An unstable prisoner drowns Lost inside my own e