dog-on-the-floor

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grounding should feel more relieving. by dog-on-the-floor, literature

how to be a shadow by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

how to be a shadow

this is how to become a shadow on the wall- kiss the silence, it's the only one that still wants you now ooh, love your fears ooh, cover your ears make your cries sound more soothing, like raindrops on the roof tune your screams to your footsteps so no one has to look ooh, love your fears ooh, cover your ears do what's quietest and learn to cry on demand never be anywhere without a extra noose ready on hand ooh, love your fears ooh, cover your ears ooh, love your fears ooh, cover your ears ooh, bite back tears ooh, an end is near this is how to become a shadow on the wall- kiss the silence, it's the only one that still wants you now ooh,

these romantic cliches(they have expiration dates) by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

these romantic cliches(they have expiration dates)

"i love you" was writhing just behind my lips, about to claw it's way out to you- oh this beast of a love has a mind of it's own. I meant to spit it out for you, along with the hunks of vermilion flesh that it's talons freed from my throat (after all, you seem to love bloody kisses as much as I do), but fear caged it in and left it like a red hot coal lump on my tongue, made me cough up embers that you dubbed passion. So those words that I meant to lay bloodied at your feet, like some mouse that your proud fat cat might leave at your door, i swallowed them back down and they're still scorching the back of my throat, making blisters on my

bubble gum wads from the lips of rejection by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

bubble gum wads from the lips of rejection

my big black boots peddle through the air i touch no floor, i go no where. i hope i get home alright don't get swallowed up in the night sometimes i like to crawl on all fours i feel at home sprawled out on the floor. i hope i find somewhere to go i have not bed for sleep, i have no home. painting roses black for my ceiling. it turns away laughs at my feelings. Oh they don't know how far i'll go before i finally cave in and don't have to live in this hell anymore. turn the lights off, walk into walls. my number's fading from bathroom stalls. maybe they'll find it, maybe they wont they're all to high to read from their phones. spin on my h

maybe i'm a romantic by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

maybe i'm a romantic

Fingernails only go so far, i'll try a spoon next, maybe a fork. tunnel from my own skull- you never know (but some times you do, you know it's time to go). maybe i'll slide out of my own ears, my mind will drop, along with my fears. lets break my fingers, one by one, see which hurts most if any at all. maybe i can crush the earth with my boot, shake it up, rip it from it's roots. maybe a bullet in my brain wont hurt at all, maybe i'll jump, make it look like i fell. maybe by pills, i'll get to rest. (with flowers) i'll cross my hands over my chest. i'll be pretty, a work of art.j maybe i'll be romantic, go knife through the heart. maybe

bleeding out sick blood leaves my (high and) dry by dog-on-the-floor, literature

unfortunately, dog's can swim by dog-on-the-floor, literature

my head is my own by dog-on-the-floor, literature

highschool... it sucks. by dog-on-the-floor, literature

the use of bird bone hands by dog-on-the-floor, literature

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grounding should feel more relieving. by dog-on-the-floor, literature

how to be a shadow by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

how to be a shadow

these romantic cliches(they have expiration dates) by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

these romantic cliches(they have expiration dates)

bubble gum wads from the lips of rejection by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

bubble gum wads from the lips of rejection

maybe i'm a romantic by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

maybe i'm a romantic

bleeding out sick blood leaves my (high and) dry by dog-on-the-floor, literature

unfortunately, dog's can swim by dog-on-the-floor, literature

my head is my own by dog-on-the-floor, literature

highschool... it sucks. by dog-on-the-floor, literature

the use of bird bone hands by dog-on-the-floor, literature

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boy seventeen by crimsonletters, literature

Literature

boy seventeen

there was once a boy with the colour seventeen, and he loved a lot of skin and fingers and lips-- to whom they belonged did not matter to him as he was covered of the colour seventeen. there was once a boy of the colour seventeen who laughed like he meant it and screamed like it made him; he was beautiful and smudged everyone he met in a colour seventeen. there was once a boy in the colour seventeen-- but then it rained, a hurricane mess, and he dripped into a puddle of his colour seventeen. (the pavement to the papers talked about it)

i slept in cemeteries by counting-vertebrae, literature

Literature

i slept in cemeteries

i was lazarus 'til i got sick of talking it out (then i spat it up & swallowed it instead); couldn't keep my splitting spine straight, but i lacked the nerve for stuffing towels in doorways. oh, my body was empty vessels - i clawed tissue from tissue, riven viscera revealed my leaden bones to haunt this head(case). i severed my tongue, amassed my mania to wake in six by two or 206

a study in arthroscopy (manus) by counting-vertebrae, literature

Literature

a study in arthroscopy (manus)

oh, i'll take these muddled words & cigarette burns, spit 'em out or sell 'em as cinema or cemeterial. i've got these dirty fingernails hooked like cat claws into my prey-heart through pericardium; i wanna trade in this light head(ache) to admire snapping bones or splitting skulls 'cause i can't keep the talk cheap or the drum-beat outta (always best inside) my mind. my spine has never meant prowess; i've always been your favorite migraine, baby: all potential & no promise.

cliffhanger by PitchBlackSpunk, literature

shut out by PitchBlackSpunk, literature

kill for a prize by PitchBlackSpunk, literature

Deviation Spotlight

You can't play dress up without pearls by dog-on-the-floor, literature

Literature

You can't play dress up without pearls

Moths and maggots slime the back of that oval mirror you're staring into, you masochistic sadist, as jade-scaled lizards lick it's stained surface (they're done numbing your migraines) and your icy eyes melt themselves. Only a quiescent porcelain doll, marring your once pearlescent skin with these little pink ribbon lines- Why do you waste your pretend tea? It's going cold almost as fast as you. Don't you understand, little puppet with snapped strings? Your life is a game of dress up.

You can't play dress up without pearls

dog-on-the-floor

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About dog-on-the-floor

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Artist // Student // Literature

July 19
United States
Deviant for 10 years
She / Her

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My Bio

take the flowers. they're all i've got to give.

Favourite TV Shows

i watch anime... soul eater, angel beats, and baka and test

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Bring Me The Horizon, Of Mice and Men, Three Days Grace, Nirvana

Favourite Writers

Christopher Marlow, Poe, Thomas Moore... old shit like thatxD

Other Interests

collecting random shit that for some reason strikes me as pretty, making people feel awkward, scaring little children, all that usual stuff

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dog-on-the-floor

Aug 8, 2014

Writers block shouldn't be allowed to last so long

0 min read

I came up with a chorus- words and music- months ago, and by now I think I could fill 20 note books with all the songs I've written around it. SO HOW DOES NOT FUCKING ONE OF THEM SOUND RIGHT???? i know that I want it to be mostly screamo, and that I want it to be mostly ballad with a few faster desperate sounding parts. I CAN HEAR IT IN MY HEAD BUT I CANT FEED IT OUT THROUGH MY TONGUE OR MY FINGER TIPS AND ITS DRIVING ME FUCKING INSANE there was really no point to that, I just felt like I wanted to write one thing that didn't suck beyond explanation this week. If I don't try to make it a poem it can't fail as one, right?  Great life lesson

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dog-on-the-floor

Jul 24, 2014

Hibernating for a week

0 min read

I'm gonna be in the... country *shudder shudder*.. with my friend for a week, so I won't be able to post anything (no body who knows me can know about any of my accounts so I can't post from her house)... So.. Now you'll know that when I don't say anything for a week I haven't just rolled over and died.. sorry to disappoint you if I don't come back, assume I drowned myself in the lake or fed myself to a bear