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About Varied / Hobbyist Premium Member JennyUnited Kingdom Groups :iconsomniavi-photography: Somniavi-Photography
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Deviant for 2 Years
4 Month Premium Membership:
Given by Sweetwii044
Statistics 1,043 Deviations 10,876 Comments 17,900 Pageviews

Some writing pieces that I am particularly proud of...

KnittingYou will have to forgive me
            for hysteria is clawing out of my throat
     as uncontrolled laughter
                 and the tears from my eyes
          that stream down my face,
                       defiling my immaculate eyeliner
                 with streaks as dirty as my
                            filthied mind;
My fingers are intricately interlocked and
           bound so tight that my knuckles are discoloured
     white and yellow and blue while
                 pins and needles stab and gouge
           overstrained tendons
How to be a parent1. Hit your child
when they do something wrong
or something
that you don't like.
Fists, open palms,
belts or wooden spoons
work best.
Do not explain why,
and make sure
to leave a mark.
2. Shout at your child
should they ever frustrate you
or make you angry.
Whether it's their fault
or yours;
they should be the ones to pay for it.
Especially if they cannot do
what you want them to,
no matter how hard
they might have tried.
3. Mock your child
when they are upset.
Do not comfort them
like they deserve;
tell them how stupid they look
with that runny nose
and tears streaming down their face.
Ask them if they've finished yet,
and if they continue to cry,
simply turn your back.
4. Shun your child
when they want your attention.
Tell them that the thing they made
is just a thing, not a plane,
and that it is not good enough,
and never will be.
Make sure they understand
how much better you were
at everything
at their age.
Make them feel worthless,
like a failure,
like they don't deserve your love
DumbWhy   s t a y   • s • i • l • e • n • t •
                                          when they—
        —ADDRESS    .y.o.u.
          —Berate     .y.o.u.
            —beat     .y.o.u.
with   « s y l l - a - b l e »  percussions
                 hammering straining
   ear drums
                                         raw to
       D i S - t O r - T i O n ?
Flesh   )c a v e d(   to   {e m b r a c e}
RunnerI walked, at first.
Then I ran.
And I kept on running,
even when I could no longer force the air into my lungs,
and the world spun and stars danced
in front of my glazed-over eyes.
I ran further than I had ever run before,
I ran miles and miles,
and I overheated until I had to
tie my shirt up and expose my
belly to keep from passing out.
I ran through a village,
then another village-and-another
and nobody ever met my eye
I ran down bridleways-footpaths
and ran through fields
and leg-shredding-brambles,
with my blade-down-the-back-of-my
trousers and t-H-i-R-t-E-e-N rivers of scarlet
trraaaaiiiiiiling down my arm.
I ran until I was
and my limbs were leaden and my mouth
tasted sweet and-i-had-no-food-or-energy-left
in a field near a road at the top of the hill watching the—
—sun set in reds-and-oranges-and-golds,
blue-velvet hues
Spirals and HurricanesSpinning, falling, down, down,
Dance to the chorus of the stars;
a waltz, step in time, three,
spirals, twisting, leaping, free.
Heads raised in triumph to the sun,
Fists clenched as bullets, shining bright,
glaring, smouldering through your soul
of sweet, sweet venom in your veins.
Hurricanes and missile fire,
Screaming chaos, deafened ears,
when blinded eyes watch old worlds die
as dumb men sing to solemn skies.
Clouds as waves, velvet, shrouds,
Drown in nectar, royal blue
butterflies drift on the breeze
of saddened sighs and weakened hearts.
Spirals blend with hurricanes,
Tears are stained with sand,
the woven noose,
a broken neck,
one final breath.
Ashes to ashesBurnt remains float on the draft,
A lazy dance on hidden currents,
Twirling, soaring, plunging into the gap
between charred floorboards
and ashen sills;
Empty inside...
Motes blurring into shadowed spectres,
Flashing in shafts of sunlight
that penetrate gloomy rooms,
Tales long forgotten
remembered in the woodgrain;
Void of feeling...
Disturbing footprints scattered,
Chaotic paths of desperation
running in circles,
Sprinting to a standstill
on black-veined tiles;
Cold as ice...
Splashes of vibrance embracing
silver plated moonbeams,
Ashes to ashes,
And shackled souls
battered to the bone;
Your words taste of dust.

Have I been posting noticeable less art on here these last few months? My head's been in such a mess I feel like I've let everything slip... 

7 deviants said I don't know :shrug:
3 deviants said Yes
3 deviants said No
No deviants said It's been petering out...


SheDares's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United Kingdom
I am 21 year old artist, writer, composer, singer-songwriter and jewellery maker.

I don’t really have one particular area of interest yet; I just enjoy creating and will give anything new a shot ;)

:blackrose: Have a look in my Etsy shop!

:blackrose: Like my Facebook page!

:blackrose: Subscribe to my YouTube channel!

:bulletblue: Earn a daily lit deviation
:bulletblue: Get some of my writing professionally published (rather than self-published)
:bulletblue: Many other things, but those are the main ones that matter here ;P

Please do visit/ comment/ like if you enjoy my work :meow:

Published work:
No matter how dark the night gets, there will always be that tiny little spark waiting to blaze with life in the dawn...
Through a deeply emotional series of photography and poetry, explore the world of an individual with mental illnesses and how they are learning to overcome the accompanying difficulties.

:bulletblue: If I favourite but don't comment; I love it and just can't think of any constructive or decent feedback ♡
:bulletblue: You do not need to thank me for the llama, favourite or donation.
:bulletblue: I do not watch-for-watch or fav-for-fav, so please do not ask me and then get offended when I say no.
:bulletblue: Even if I do not thank you for favourites, I do really appreciate all of them!
:bulletblue: I do not generally participate in "tagged" journals.

WARNING: If your favourites are full of naked women instead of art, especially if you do not have any deviations of your own, then I will most likely block you. This is an art site, not a porn site. My work carries a message, or maybe a little fun. Not jack-off material for some random stranger on the internet. And no, I will not send you nudes: Stop asking.

However, if you appreciate my work because it is art, then I am very grateful! Feel free to leave any comments and tips that you wish :aww:

Mona Lisa smilingLet’s talk about wanting to fall apart;
Let’s talk about over-riding the one instinct
we all have in common,
Let’s talk about not wanting to get out of bed
for a day,
two days,
a week.
Let’s talk about timing the whole day to have
the least amount of social contact.
Let’s talk about faking smiles more than not,
about inwardly grimacing every time someone asks
“you seem quiet today, what’s wrong?”
because how can you explain that for some reason
this whole spinning aimlessly around the sun thing has
gotten tedious and the only spinning you seem to
be doing is out of control.
(but there is a reason, one that stretches beyond
the oh-your-parents-divorced-what-a-shame and the
oh-your-dad-wasn’t-exactly-what-we-expected and the
because I can’t see an end to the worst things and my bad luck
is coming in ninety-nines.
Let’s talk abo
split like my
speech; i
am the demigod,
the pill box,
the cat's third life,
i am:
fool's gold, fool's
i woke like psychosis
to the house fire,
missing my mania &
wistful wilting
body like
     Fool Me OnceFool me once
I'll cut you twice.
Hurt me and
I'll kill you thrice.
If you can't be nice
Then away you should turn.
Little boys who play with fire
Get their fingers burned.

It's Okay to be SelfishSometimes, you have to do things just for yourself.
And that’s okay.
Sometimes you’ve got to stay in bed,
Empty your head,
And think of all the nice things
You've ever had said
To you.
And that’s okay.
Sometimes you’ve got to cry,
Scream like you’re going to die,
And just lie
Around, being sad.
And that’s okay.
Sometimes you’ve got to shut everything out,
Just forget about
What you want to be without.
And that’s okay.
Sometimes you’ve got to talk,
Just let the words walk
Out of your mouth,
Carrying your thoughts with them.
And that’s okay.
Sometimes you’ve got be selfish.
And that’s okay -
You do whatever it takes,
To get you through the day.
     Happy SchizoFrom time to time
I get lost in my words,
Trying to differentiate,
My meanings from the birds,
I mean, the herds,
The group of people speaking in my head.
What’s the difference between a daydream and sleeping in bed.
See, I decided that all is reality,
But I’m considered crazy,
Because of my duality.
We have one reality in multiple existences.
One instance is my daydream.
Where my day seems great,
Until I hear those may screams.
The train passing by, not the rain dropping,
Or it’s just mixed, where people are screaming,
Because trains are falling out the sky,
Like rain drops and the main plot,
Is to hit me, how harsh.
Just want to hurt me and
Turn my field into a marsh. Well I won’t allow you,
So hand me the club, because it’s time to march.
Were close to the hole, so get the cart.
You… You don’t follow?
We were being pummeled by trains,
I trained to dodge those now,
So now, were in a cart driving safely,
Trying to find the Tao.
See, I see thin
     wires.plastic-coated copper, melt and spark and weld a knot.
message received, transmission wave solitude
hear SOS, here i am.
operator, tiny cracking cry for help
here i am -
relieve me, retrieve my remainder
unhinge my jaw to get the entire story
hammer chisel, fizzle,
form a thought, automate the lock
analyze every syllable, every step in my walk,
every crooked brow and every hair out of place.
hear this cracking cry for self -
reveal the iris
paint the face.
recycle sweatshop clothes
reduce, use and reuse the soul.
and this bold stroke of character genius
will serve as proof of movement.
these flapping, clacking, screaming teeth
will swerve to shoot the messenger.
these legs, striding wide and low
will unnerve and boil the blood of you.
operator, here i am - anew and brimming with truth.
plastic-coated copper, welded knot, once tongue in cheek.
once was a cracking cry for help
once was timid, once was meek
once was only merely uttered weakly in my sleep
and spoken of behind closed doors

A What's Leftthe word needling-in
is a memory and name
just short of happened
a gasp
just shy of sound
your lips move, but,
on the inhale,
sound breaks
on air rushing
toward the cracked
unsealed whistle
of broken insides
and i scratch
today's dust to find
a reason
a what's left to
let in, a strength to
snap the neck
pluck the feathers
from daily doings
a what's left
to tell us
that heaven holds them
while we can't
and it hurts like
air burns the
early skin
that isn't yet
to hold our angels in
i tell you and
us both, that
one miracle is more
than many ever get
i tell us
lots of things
to fill the gap
to hurry
and quiet
the past along
to soften this air
and break from
dream, when
your body wakes
to remember him
growing here
between us
     day 6: who you are and who you should bei.    do not rise gentle from the cautious dawn.
     you were born a blank piece of paper;
     you etched your stories into your canvas over time.
     the problem with being paper is that
     you're not the only one
     who can choose what you look like to others.
     they glue on labels over every inch of your body.
     from hair to skin to intelligence to weight to gender,
     they can determine where you'll go in "life", how many friends you have, if you'll end up a whore or a prude.
     they cover your pure skin with scars and bruises and graffiti,
     and your fragile airplane wings are too heavy with the weight of words to fly.
     they tell you to do this, and that,
     to go eat a salad, not to be "fat"
     they'll tell you that it's alright.
     4-5-15i. we are (awake in) the dead
of night;
dying ever
so s-l-o-w-l-y;

the loss of life at an age so young is a
as is that of an elder;
if the unappreciated
working man
whose name
"no one knows!"
drops dead,
people will step
over his
carcass so that they
can make their way to work
(their boring job
that consists of sitting
at a desk and computer
a l l
d a y
l o n g
shall make them
something their wives'll
until they own the world)
ii. speaking of planets,
why would you devote
your entire life,
and soul to
offer me this earth?
iii. slap your money on the table and
don't touch it until morning.
kick off your shoes and loosen
your office tie;
stress isn't allowed past these
premises, mister major.
i'll be the sinning queen that everyone
knows and loves;
a beauty queen that everyone wants to
a figure of dependence and independence
all at the same time;
ah, the beauty of america.
iv. i

Recent favourites worth taking a look at x


Add a Comment:
kabuto-gouki Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thanks for the llama
SheDares Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem :meow:
SheDares Featured By Owner Apr 12, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
You're very welcome; it's an awesome piece of work :meow:
BlackBowfin Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hello Jenny. Thank you much for the fave. :)
SheDares Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
And thank you for the watch ;) :huggle:
BlackBowfin Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome.  :)
SheDares Featured By Owner Apr 12, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
AngoraART Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
Thank you for the llama back! :)
Llama Emoji-64 (I love mah fudz) [V3] 
SheDares Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
You're very welcome ;)
Add a Comment: