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About Literature / Hobbyist Shea Hunt21/Female/Canada Recent Activity
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Literature
How To Dance At A Punk Rock Show
The sound of a thousand teenage slamming hearts,
screams
from protruding veins and broken lips,
fists punching the tension in the air to the beat of tonight's anthem.
Crystals bounce through the air,
glinting tears and beads of sweat,
colliding
and joining us in a fog of heat and emotion as we yell,
until the burning in our throats matches that of the road-burn on our wrists
and whip marks on our backs.
The music slips into tired eardrums,
numbing the whispered bullshit and cliches -
a welcome replacement of the drone of society.
Somehow the beat entwines its body
with each of those thriving on the dance floor,
spiraling up the stomping boots and torn tights to give a new rhythm
to each of the broken and faltering hearts.
The bass drum shakes tired bones into movement,
pulling invisible marionette strings with equal intents of dance and chaos,
and we are moving in unison:
one synchronized machine of passion and ‎panting.
Lost in the music, but finding ourselves.
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Mature content
I Fuck So I Do Not Cry :iconsoimstillunsure:SoImStillUnsure 7 5
Literature
Orbital Pull
I am lovingly entrapped
in your orbit,
held in permanent transfixion
by the weight of you -
tugged gently
against your skin,
against your lips.
Eternally mesmerized,
fashioning boundless rings
of asteroids and moon dust
around your fingers.
Painting comet tail trails
around your hips:
all attempts to hold me to you,
to never fall into the void
that swirls like ink and fog around us.
Your satellite moon -
composing waltzes in midnight sky dresses
and dripping jewels -
spinning aimlessly,
with such direction,
always towards you.
Constantly pulled inward,
drifting,
like a lost ship in a still sea,
like glass,
that so perfectly mirrors the constellations
on stage above it.
Until moon tides grab my hands,
docking me
in the curves of your arms,
your collarbones,
your lips.
In a captivating, cataclysmic crash,
my moon
meeting your Earth,
creating craters in your heart,
in your chest -
small pockets,
where I leave parts of myself:
moon rock and meteors,
small whispers,
and crash site kisses.
S
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Flighty by SoImStillUnsure Flighty :iconsoimstillunsure:SoImStillUnsure 11 2 Paprika Rose by SoImStillUnsure Paprika Rose :iconsoimstillunsure:SoImStillUnsure 4 0 Ripened by SoImStillUnsure Ripened :iconsoimstillunsure:SoImStillUnsure 6 0 Moonshine by SoImStillUnsure Moonshine :iconsoimstillunsure:SoImStillUnsure 13 0
Literature
My Querencia
The thick sap drips readily from shredded veins, staining the crisp air with the stifling scent of oak blood and wood glue. He leans his broken body, weary, against me, and I can feel his leaves trembling with each of our shallow breaths. Some fall to the ground with the quiet tinkling of broken glass. He bends at the knees and I lay him soft against the ground, letting him kiss the moss around his limbs, that’s still wet with dew and sky tears. I whisper a gentle thanks: I've given him purpose, and he’s given something back to me. My knife cuts through his sinewy core as I run my hand along his rough and cooled skin, mixing my blood with his…
I let the timid trees reach out coyly, their leaves brushing my bare skin; some satin, some silk, some harsh denim, and some pierced with pine pins and needles. Their palette of green and mossy blues against the cream of my skin competes with the hot sun I feel kissing my shoulder blades, dusting on a new layer of pebble-colo
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Literature
Fatal Lovers
You and I are the definition of fatal attraction,
like a serotonin deficiency to the pretty side of the blade,
like the heavy-hearted pebble that wants to trails its lips across still waters,
like sun-bleached and wind-whipped birch paper to the lustful licks of shadow-dancing candle flame.
I expect everything to fail - us, no exception -
because having to hold my hopes up is far too hard on my limbs,
when my wrists just want to bleed out,
my shoulder blades still ache from tearing out my wing span,
and my fingertips burn from when they learnt to trust, and then couldn't hold on when that trust fell out from under them.
You say you carry far too much baggage whenever you take a trip to my heart,
when you trip,
slip,
and fall into love.
But I'll be your suitcase,
your luggage cart,
the entire fucking cargo hold of as many airplanes as you will ever need.
Because having no baggage means you're only here temporarily,
and I want you for so much longer than that.
I want you to pack up your
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Literature
A Gamer's Love Poem
I'm not like one of your video games,
I don't mind if you camp,
right outside my heart,
so long as your promise you won't shoot when you see me,
just grab me,
hold me,
call me a hostage, but kiss me like a butterfly.
And there's no time bonus with me,
you don't have to do everything
so
damn
fast.
in fact, I want to see how slow you can go,
how careful.
Touch me like I'm a spider's thread.
cradle my hands,
my wrists,
my thighs,
because I am
so
damn
breakable.
I don't have the best armor,
I haven't upgraded quite yet,
but maybe someday I will,
maybe someday I won't be so fragile,
and you can fuck me like one of your opponents,
but right now,
I don't need the best sniper,
or the one who always gets first and last kill,
I need a prince charming,
a knight in shining armor,
a camper,
who will promise to never stray too far.
Because my heart is delicate,
and my guard has fallen,
and I'm surrendering to capture by a merciful lover.
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Literature
The Timekeeper
If time would just let go:
unfurl its greedy clock hands from about my slender wrists,
I would take you on journeys that,
like dreams,
last forever
and at the same time, only fleeting seconds.
I would show you what it looked like,
what it sounded like,
when the Gods breathed out stardust and nebulas,
and we called it the Big Bang.
When the universe unfurled its wings,
painted in shimmering indigo and midnight,
peeling its skin off,
revealing a peach pit heart with a soft spot for lovers.
I would take you to Death and back,
only to show you that there's nothing to fear.
That beyond that inky curtain-call,
something awaits us;
a silk and soil embrace,
and dinner parties with the aliens we misleadingly called God,
sensuous waltzes with kirins made of constellations,
and pearl and oyster-belly castles amongst the sun smog and clouds.
--
If physics and logic would just relent,
forgive me,
with passing eyes,
for blissfully ignoring the laws meant to govern our bodies and minds,
I would show
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Literature
Eve
I don't know whether to call her buttercup, or snapdragon, because she's never seemed like a flower petal to me. More like a pussy willow, or a foxtail thistle. The kind of plant that grows by dusty highways and makes up truck driver bouquets.
She walks like she's got eggshells under her toe nails, and she whispers like every word that passes those lips is a sin.
She makes me want to grow old with her, but she says "happily ever after" sounds more like a curse than a promise, and I've never been one to swear at an angel.
She's got a tattoo of Eve on her right side, and she once told me that humans are only the offspring of Eve sleeping with the snake - that she didn't know how good she had it until Adam walked away. And that nobody wants an angel, because feathers seem suffocating when you don't have wings of your own, and venom always tastes sweeter than wine.
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Mature content
Eyes That Photosynthesize :iconsoimstillunsure:SoImStillUnsure 4 2
Literature
Aurora Beam
Orion sways his hips to some unheard melody,
a beating of glass drums filtered through cloud cover and aspen leaves.
It calls wild children from beneath folds of inky blankets
and sheaths of midnight and nighttime sea caverns.
They throw flashlight beams across 2:00 am valleys
and mountaintop peaks untouched by daylight.
They make shadow puppet tragedies
and fairytales in the loose and wandering spirits of those fallen shadows.
The king of them all wears a crown of thorns
- broken and fallen constellations -
scenes not beautiful enough to be painted by Gods.
Casting glances,
like sunlight through moth wings,
they scream a silent and beautiful bloody murder,
painting the sky in translucent blood,
and bowing in lily petal and star dusted skirts.
Curtain call,
and the theatre is thrust into darkness.
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Literature
Precariously
The venom that dripped from her lips
was that which you wouldn't expect from such an unassuming girl,
but she spit gasoline and her tongue had the treacherous tell-tale taste of sulfur and flint.
There was no way of mistaking that fire that coursed through her veins
and caused her pulse to whiplash anyone who tried to prove her wrong.
She hated condescension, and arrogance, and the smell of her hair after a shower,
but lived recklessly for sunsets
and stargazing and
sleeping with the window open,
just in case her heart decided to go skinny-dipping with the man on the moon.
She was all wrong for me,
and even worse for herself,
but I've always been attracted to fire,
and this girl was a wildfire with a death wish and a bucket list
that included, "Fuck the president behind a 7-11",
and "Arm-wrestle Jesus".
She was what my momma called "the wrong side of the tracks",
and my preacher called "the devil in hiding",
but she never liked church much anyways,
and I don't think it really suited he
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Literature
Pretty
No doctor, no surgeon, no orthodonist, or mortician can make us pretty.
Only we can make ourselves pretty.
Granted, it will take a hell of a lot more than scalpels and wires and plastic and paint and a fistful of bills and self-loathing.
Something a little more powerful than a double-degree in medicine and disdain.
Something rarely found in the scraped and sculpted bones of souls sold to appease the masses.
A little love, self-appreciation, and the realization that that face, that body, those 'flaws' in the mirror are not who we are, but instead what prevent us from being that person we long to be.
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Thanks so much for checking my stuff out!

But...psstt...further down is some real talent.

Please check out my favourites!

Favourites

Once Broken King by rajewel Once Broken King :iconrajewel:rajewel 3,233 87 These Lies by yuumei These Lies :iconyuumei:yuumei 20,111 583 What It Takes To Fly by yuumei What It Takes To Fly :iconyuumei:yuumei 32,915 801 Snowdrops by Radittz Snowdrops :iconradittz:Radittz 6,049 231 Forgotten Glory by JonasDeRo Forgotten Glory :iconjonasdero:JonasDeRo 9,710 349 white fairy by DanielaUhlig white fairy :icondanielauhlig:DanielaUhlig 2,242 88 Pixie Portrait by DanielaUhlig Pixie Portrait :icondanielauhlig:DanielaUhlig 1,191 37 Black Goldfish by Selenada Black Goldfish :iconselenada:Selenada 15,705 824 Tank Girl by DanielaUhlig Tank Girl :icondanielauhlig:DanielaUhlig 12,506 703 Meow by Kuvshinov-Ilya Meow :iconkuvshinov-ilya:Kuvshinov-Ilya 16,775 464 A Place Called Home by JonasDeRo A Place Called Home :iconjonasdero:JonasDeRo 13,635 764 Not Alone by DestinyBlue Not Alone :icondestinyblue:DestinyBlue 21,012 915 With My Blacks by Brosa
Mature content
With My Blacks :iconbrosa:Brosa 2,442 163
The Retro of Tomorrow by Brosa The Retro of Tomorrow :iconbrosa:Brosa 36,453 1,050 centauri by len-yan centauri :iconlen-yan:len-yan 9,717 224 #207 Legacy by Picolo-kun #207 Legacy :iconpicolo-kun:Picolo-kun 8,273 303

Activity


Sorry for the lack of posts/attention in the last little while...or, long while.


I suppose the most important updates I have, are that I did, in fact, get into university. I got in on an English degree, but I'll be taking the necessary science courses in order to get into the Science faculty as soon as I possibly can. 


I've been having a bit of trouble with, well, living, as of late. I find it difficult to want to contribute to this society, when I despise everything it stands for. It's making it hard to want to continue a job, or go back to school, when I would much rather live off the land, as a wolf-child, or an elf. But I suppose that's not exactly a sane life choice.


On the bright side, I finally contacted Samppa Von Cyborg regarding my ear-pointing, and I've confirmed my appointment for next June in Seattle. That's pretty much a dream come true, and definitely a step in the right direction in terms of achieving the body image I desire.

Hopefully I'll be able to find a stronger drive in my life, and continue along that track safely and confidently. Thanks for sticking around :)

deviantID

SoImStillUnsure
Shea Hunt
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
Shea

Tired of being human
Probably doesn't like you
Adores animals
Would rather be an elf
Or moss

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:iconangelichope:
angelichope Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2016
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:iconletter-b-plz::iconletteri-plz::iconletterr-plz::iconlettert-plz::iconletterh-plz::iconletterd-plz::iconlettera-plz::iconlettery-plz::icon1stbutterflykiss::icon1stbutterflykiss:
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                     :iconbouquetplz::iconbirthdaycupcakeplz::iconbouquetplz:
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:iconxzendai:
xZendai Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy birthday lovely!! :D Hope it's a great one!
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:icondarklover33:
DarkLover33 Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2015   Writer
Happy birthday! :Dbirthday cake :D
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:iconclaudiaxblack:
ClaudiaxBlack Featured By Owner Sep 16, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the +fav  Hug 
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:iconelia87:
Elia87 Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2014   Digital Artist
Thank you for the watch :)
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