*restlessink

I hope your heart still sings

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About Me Premium Member Art Student Hilary Fraser18/Female/Canada

Recent Activity Deviant for 4 Months
10 Month Premium Membership

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Finding Home

I want to finger paint your name onto every page of my books, scrawl the sound of your heartbeat into the margins until it's perfectly in tune with mine. I want to live behind your bird-cage ribs, to hold your heart next to my own. I want to bend the hours and stretch the days so that we can have more time. I don't want to end up with a bunch of empty poems about a boy who used to sing. I want your breath to grow strong and sure, and for it to sing out to the heavens like it used to.

I want to be more than a voice, more than a song. I want to fill the hearts and stretch the days of humanity for the rest of time. I want to

favourite deviation in a while, without a doubt <3

Newest

BruisedEverything is old. It's creaking doors barely hanging onto their hinges And worn toys you'll never look at again It's broken hearts and sad lyrics It's bottled hopes and rainy day savings Everything is used and cracked and
Aching for anything besides life, Aching for relief. But that part doesn't matter Because it knows – the door, the toys, the heart - They all know that as long as they're still thought of That they'll wait and see if they'll one day be useful They'll hang on until that very last moment, The day when you part ways and never look back; T Bruised
by *restlessink

RescueI daydreamed of you in the snow, you were drearily dreaming of paint encrusted hands and the last time your fingers touched a piano. Your heart was beating loud enough to spur my own to pump again. Your hands were cold as always, but they felt sublime against my own. We read Shakespeare just to find the flaws in ourselves, and then stitched them back to perfection. We ate poisoned apples and defied fate. We visited all the tombstones, and learned how to dance without ever moving our feet. Time stopped out of pure gratitude of our hypothermic lips, and molded to fit perfectly around our eyelashes, to wrap itself around our wrists and ankles an Rescue
by *restlessink

Speechless(I'm tripping all over you)
          I've got bruised knees from begging            while you fell in love with another
(you're so beautiful when you're breaking)
          we'll I'm broken wide open now            I'm bleeding out into the dirt.            is it still beautiful?
(is it sad how much I miss your lips against mine?) Speechless
by *restlessink

in repairDo you remember when we planted
our home amongst the sea of black
suits, black ties, black hearts? We drew
the lines and tallied the scores under
the moon. We placed blame and tried
blindly to erase the disgrace that we
coated each other in. We counted up
our bones, but you forgot; I broke every
one for you. Shattered my sternum and
mailed the last piece to you. So I guess
you've won again. You're the one with the
pretty words, the deathtrap letters.

You've got the key. in repair
by *restlessink

This is my heart and soul put into words <3
These poems are my passion, my loves, my escapes

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this probably isn't about youthis probably is about how the sun was on the opposite side of the sky when i woke up this morning. and how my name looks wrong every time i write it until it's gotten to the point that i'm not even sure how to spell it. it's about how everything has been flying out of my control so that i can't remember how to walk without making a sound. or how to hold on to the edges when my vision gets too blurry. this is almost certainly about how you live one and three fourth miles to the north of me, but i forgot and slept facing the south last night so now i just feel like i turned my back on you.

but really, this isn't about you. this probably isn't about you
by ~paperheartsyndrome

Pikachu
by ~viridis-somnio

Symphony of Death"My life lacks substance" those are the last words that echoed through the dark
my screams paralyzing her echoing the pain she felt echoing the substance that was in her words
she didn't see that substance was not made up of those around her it was her-
she is becoming another warrior lost in the dark stranded deserted by almost everyone but not me
she didn't realize that although I was limited I would try and do what she did for me even though I am losing my battle with the dark again
I would give myself up as all sold Symphony of Death
by ~arkangelzero

My momma's blood
by ~god-of-insects

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Journal Entry: Thu Dec 3, 2009, 12:37 PM

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I find that home means a lot of different things to everyone. Personally, my home is in a little old used book store that is so crammed full of glorious books that you can barely move around. But what I really want to know is what is the one place you could take someone to illustrate yourself?

I would take you to my home away from home, the place where I feel like I belong. I would lead you around the labyrinth of books, cautioning you silently to watch out for the globe by your elbow, or the stack of bibles in front of you. I would lead you around to visit Shakespeare, and let my fingers graze over the crumbling spines. I would leave a trail of breadcrumbs to help you find the children’s section. I would hope against all hope that your heart was racing just like mine, and smile through the dusty air when your eyes finally met mine. I would find somewhere to sit down in my cluttered home, and teach you exactly what it means to be accepted. I would introduce you to the stories that led me to believe in love again; I would show you my soul.

feel free to answer in whichever way strikes your fancy :3

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Mood: Peaceful
Listening to: Guns n Roses

Skin by `kjherstin

deviantID

I’m too impatient to wait for the toast to pop out of the toaster
I write my best pieces when I'm at all time lows
I have an irrational fear of manatees
I believe I hold the key to my own heart
I think capital B’s are all play, and no business.
I have a slight adoration for Alan Rickman
Every time I handwrite the word ‘every’, I forget the r
I hate it when I unintentionally rhyme
I still believe in love, I think I always will

Devious Info

Current Residence: Barrie, Ontario
Interests: squids, tattoos, Alan Rickman
Favourite band or musician: Foo Fighters, Augustana, Theory of a Deadman, Cold War Kids
Favourite artist: Banksy
Favourite poet or writer: Poe. The others change daily <3
MP3 player of choice: shuffle!
Favourite game: duck duck goose