einnobztron

why do I lack such competence?

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70. sixty-seven percent by einnobztron, literature

Literature

70. sixty-seven percent

you hide your hands. you don't want to talk. i sit, resigned, and force myself to think about my own venetian, sloping shoulders. but my artless mind trails to focus on the curve of your arms, the straight of your jaw. can this really go on forever? like jaywalking and false hope, it might might might be dangerous. this sugar-coated, candy-wrapper faultline that i don't want to see stretches itself through each of my thirteen timezones. i don't know if i have to forget you or forgive you, but i'm not sure that either would really help. i get like this

what I can see from here by einnobztron, literature

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what I can see from here

it's a familiar domain, this expansive view, with a similar terrain to what I once knew. I think that I thought that it seemed I was home. so what is this now, this strange new land, that I somehow know like the back of my hand? the sky, diamond hard, night gleams with the stars. the trees are dark, empty, but with soft summer air; an October breeze sifts through my fingers, through my hair. what a changeling dream, but what does this mean? where am I now? I've been lost here so long. but can I find myself before I'm too far gone?

26. tears by einnobztron, literature

Literature

26. tears

if you lay your arm across my ribcage, you can feel these desiccated birdbones; perhaps you will wonder, like me, why they were just never light enough to fly. maybe we were only chasing dragons, but if we keep trying, i think we can still catch one. i want you to look past these tears in my clothing and touch the skin of who i was, who i could be, and who i really am, but sometimes i become so pale that even i don't know what part of me could be this cold. if i asked you to, would you pinch me to make sure i'm not dreaming? these enigmatic eyes that i try so hard to hide are mostly filled with juggling clubs an

30. under the rain by einnobztron, literature

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70. sixty-seven percent by einnobztron, literature

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70. sixty-seven percent

what I can see from here by einnobztron, literature

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what I can see from here

26. tears by einnobztron, literature

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26. tears

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marianne by rchelsea2005, literature

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marianne

At night, I hear murmurs of lost things, pleas of "Come back later, please: out stealing horses," and are they palominos or softly-colored dapple greys? In my head, they are dimly lit and endless like the sky, like the old days when the heart could be dry and separate from the head. In my life I tell myself there are lines to be drawn, that I am almighty in my misery — independent of you — and when the sky falls, I tell myself that I am one of your compulsions, out stealing horses. When dawn breaks under your eyelids I will be running; waiting for thunder.

Phenomenatrics by toxic-scheherazade, literature

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Phenomenatrics

i. Boy meets girl. {and it's not love but it isn't science either, it's cicada song alchemy at a summer storm epicentre. It's skirls of brittle-bright hummingbird laughter; it's midnight fairground phosphorescence and ether-flavoured ferris-wheel thrills.} ii. He obviously worships her, and she's got it just as bad. {and maybe that's true, but it's so much more than their condescending venus flytrap smiles will ever understand. It's solstice prayers by touch and unsanctioned bareskin baptisms in lakes of ink and glowflies.} iii. It's like they can read each other's minds. {it's not like that at all. She reads riptide chronicles in t

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Skyes, Blu. by einnobztron, literature

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Skyes, Blu.

Skyes, Blu. Blu Skyes was one who never cared to be known. My name should be Icarus, she said, tripping her pen onto the sidewalk below. She leapt down from the tree at a height that would have made most people's bones rattle in their skin. I stepped lightly to the ground from the bottommost branch. "What do you mean?" He was such a failure, she replied. I wanted to tell her, "You're no failure," but all I said was, "I have to go." Blu would have drowned the kittens of the Cheshire cat not because they would've died anyway, but because she would have b

Skyes, Blu.

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About einnobztron

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Artist // Student // Literature

Oct 10
United States
Deviant for 16 years
bonnienortz.blogspot.com
She / Her

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juggling, unicycling, knitting, crocheting

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einnobztron

Sep 17, 2012

just a little update

0 min read

so I haven't actually been on dA for ages and ages, and I don't know if I'll ever really come back.   however, if you are interested in reading any current/future writing of mine, check out my poetry blog at bonnienortz.blogspot.com. Bonnie

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einnobztron

Jul 6, 2010

Jane Eyre

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'No sight so bad as a naughty child,' he began, 'especially a naughty little girl.  Do you know where the wicked go after death?' 'They go to hell,' was my ready and orthodox answer.    'And what is hell?  Can you tell me that?'    'A pit full of fire.'    'And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?'    'No, sir.'    'What must you do to avoid it?'    I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: 'I must keep in good health and not die.' ahaha yes, I am enjoying myself.  :D

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einnobztron

Jun 25, 2010

I was getting bored of my other journal. . .

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haha hey guys. not much is new except SUMMER!  ~furrydanceplz (https://www.deviantart.com/furrydanceplz) and I officially have a long-term job babysitting for these nice people who live practically across the street from me. things I have to do and should have started today: (this really has nothing to do with anything, but as the title implies, my real reason for writing this is because I was bored of my other journal) - work on rereading Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahnuik and The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka for my IB Extended Essay. - work on summer work for BC Calculus. - work on summer work for AP Physics. - work on summer work for AP English. - work on getting o