tragicrabbit

Brittany Roberts

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cracks the night in two by tragicrabbit, literature

Literature

cracks the night in two

silence cracks the night in two twist teeth in a sneering, for beauty makes him shudder. shivered, like things unaccounted for: i as the wolf, then he as the coydog. we beat as a twofold, we beat as a twofold (or did on that day) it would make sense then, that i eye under hairfall the coytoed frenzy. wanting him how a taste clogs a mouth hole, needing to spit; i'd count on fingers rippled over skinlicks in undressing tongue, such ribkicks! and the pumping heart. claw like a suffocaton. we lash as a twofold (or did on that day) i'd adore, oh, how in that creeping. ramming fists into his naked truth; we bruise in the sheets

my face is droopy by tragicrabbit, literature

broke the skin by tragicrabbit, literature

you thought by tragicrabbit, literature

dogbowled begging by tragicrabbit, literature

mother by tragicrabbit, literature

sweat by tragicrabbit, literature

i like mine salted by tragicrabbit, literature

backwash by tragicrabbit, literature

hangover by tragicrabbit, literature

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dissonance by tragicrabbit, literature

searching by tragicrabbit, literature

when statues could speak by tragicrabbit, literature

to those seeking understanding by tragicrabbit, literature

a self-sound by tragicrabbit, literature

Literature

a self-sound

a self-sound i have a voice wrought in ink and metaphor, that spills out of my pen when it finds it cannot keep still. i can imagine my voice as feeling like leaves that have dried and browned, but are still recognizable for what they are... an amusing concept, that a pen could contain such a voice, that must sound like wind and rain through trees, the tangible feeling of the wolf\'s cry whose voice i must have picked up somewhere and borrowed.

i hung feeling out the window by tragicrabbit, literature

Literature

i hung feeling out the window

i hung feeling out the window i hung feeling out the window it wasn\'t easy but i didn\'t mind, for i was numb i hung it there with rope and thought, for some reason, of violets i hung feeling out the window it swayed in the thinking game and began to unwind it wasn\'t easy for it was heavy, but i was numb yet the rope burnt my hands and skinned them i hung feeling out the window with scraps of me and thought, for some reason, of violets and my hands and the rope and it swayed, but i was numb i hung feeling out the window it wasn\'t easy for it was heavy and saw (i swear it saw) it was heavy and saw me leave it there.

in the palm of sky by tragicrabbit, literature

Literature

in the palm of sky

in the palm of sky the sky cries sometimes, i\'m sure it does. it must, for it has a mind and soul, and therefore forms an entity as surely as i do. i\'m not sure i could fathom a being who could not cry, especially one so illustrious and grand as the sky must be. i could curl up here in the palm of deep blue and wither or enlighten, and paint my tears on this mural of sky pieces, clouded with the hopes and dreams of so many others.

my abortion by tragicrabbit, literature

Literature

my abortion

my abortion if i sit here long enough, i can scrape out the fetus in my womb like dead skin that peels away like paint. it is simple to feel its flesh caught beneath my fingernails when what is there cannot look back at me, and cannot help me defile this caul with pain. it is simple to rip and tear this unborn child, to carve and mutilate this place in my stomach, red with the blood of bone, hair, teeth and dreams.

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He doesn't write poetry anymore. by SilverInkblot, literature

Literature

He doesn't write poetry anymore.

He doesn’t write poetry anymore, even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc. I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking. The record needle hits the groove wrong; he stumbles over words that aren’t there, rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have. He doesn’t write poetry anymore and his confusion is strangely endearing. But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love, poetic lines inserted between the daily grind of character names and who said what; voiceless boys in white a

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remembering thundersong by tragicrabbit, literature

Literature

remembering thundersong

remembering thundersong the thunder purrs outside my window, and deep within the marrow of my bones i know what is coming. this twilight sky reflects hope, the thin streaks of lightning illuminating Ursa and her companions of star-dust and clouds. another peal of thunder. the air grows warm. i remember evenings of gazing at the heavens, thinking "this is not for me," recalling lonliness and hurt. the air was moist like this, anticipation for the moment when the sky would open and the rain would fall. and it was just like this. the longing for my deeper understanding, when the thunder and lightning would give way to the storm. my mother used

remembering thundersong

tragicrabbit

About tragicrabbit

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Artist

United States
Deviant for 21 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: drifter
Favourite genre of music: alternative, new age, classical, grunge.. not a country fan
Favourite cartoon character: spawn & the maxx
Personal Quote: sometimes you wake up. sometimes the fall kills you. and sometimes, when you fall, you fly.. -gaiman

Favourite Visual Artist

*jennadelle, botticelli, rembrandt, giger, dali

Favourite Movies

fight club, v for vendetta

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

nine inch nails, tori amos, nirvana, jefferson airplane, aphex twin, modest mouse...

Favourite Writers

sylvia plath, stan rice, neil gaiman, kerouac, sena jeter naslund

Tools of the Trade

life; the complexity of murder; dreams

Other Interests

poetry, art, piano, astrology, mythology, jack the ripper, antiques, wolves, nature, trees, life

Posts

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tragicrabbit

Aug 13, 2007

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

i'll become the sky.

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tragicrabbit

May 24, 2006

it's just fish in the mouth

0 min read

haha. i'm still alive. will be updating shortly. ciao.

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tragicrabbit

Feb 17, 2005

it's only fish in the mouth

0 min read

for those who remember me: i am still alive; been busy; expect to hear from me soon. i have a lot of stuff i want to upload.. hope all is well with the world - brittany ................. to think on: ~nxoxtxhxixnxg (https://www.deviantart.com/nxoxtxhxixnxg):iconxslowmotionx::iconsyphix::iconcallingxtwilight::iconjonnywedge::iconfragilefacade::iconillamo::iconchristiana::iconutro::iconlivingbyair::iconthefurrez::iconbenevolentsoul::icongreenie::iconsixhours::iconaecr::iconsurferxrosa::icon-xxiv::iconpsychedelics: