Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant ElizaUnited States Recent Activity
Deviant for 4 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 106 Deviations 620 Comments 6,510 Pageviews
×

Random Favourites

'Round The Bowl by WishmasterAlchemist 'Round The Bowl :iconwishmasteralchemist:WishmasterAlchemist 662 24 Angry Tiger - Ballpoint Pen by VianaArts Angry Tiger - Ballpoint Pen :iconvianaarts:VianaArts 9,976 0 Tiger Eyes - Ballpoint Pen by VianaArts Tiger Eyes - Ballpoint Pen :iconvianaarts:VianaArts 1,700 0
Literature
Floodgates
We’re lined up as we enter Year Seven.
Rulers are pulled out, skirts inspected. Three inches above the knee, no more.
Our skirts are millimeters too short. We hope to pass. If we pass, we’re allowed into the house. Those who don’t are sent home so their mothers can mend what’s broken.
They scour for torn hems, loose stitches, and find none. But Marissa filled out over the summer, and the back of her skirt rises up her thigh nearly an inch above an appropriate level. We share a knowing glance as she flows out of our line, thrust back into the office where someone will call her mother to gather her. Our mothers taught us to lean back when the ruler passed, to let the hem dip down to the creases of our knees. No one would know. When we pass, we share a silent victory.
When they can’t hear us, we whisper about Marissa’s chest, how red splotches cover her nose and cheekbones. We think she won’t come back, girls like her never do, and seventh years a
:iconawholelotofflowers:awholelotofflowers
:iconawholelotofflowers:awholelotofflowers 142 43
Little Princess by humon Little Princess :iconhumon:humon 7,233 603
Literature
Colorado Springs
Vacate! And disentangle
from the old familiar shadow-works,
from slim Siamese deflecting light,
from facets miring in our clock-face
from the tribal hum of sheetrock,
recurrent trumpets maddening
our corners of the cosmic cog.
Separation is the rite of birth,
discovery and flight!
Head north and west, for higher sky
and find a porthole, red summer stone
where winds will rush through the fleshmaker’s mouth
slowing our feral, atomic brume
to the comfortable gait of gravitons
dangling just beneath our soles
in the Garden of the Gods.
:iconspoems:spoems
:iconspoems:spoems 15 19
There's No Place Like Box by ZoranPhoto There's No Place Like Box :iconzoranphoto:ZoranPhoto 2,346 516 Paradise by alexiuss Paradise :iconalexiuss:alexiuss 3,242 89 Pokemonster Hunter-Venusaur by arvalis Pokemonster Hunter-Venusaur :iconarvalis:arvalis 8,694 381
Literature
Faeriefire
We all hid when the faeries dueled.
You and I were in the closet, wishing to each other half-secretly among the motes that the duels could be rare as dragons, at least.  Instead they were only rare as quarter-moons.
Ground liquifies, sometimes, during a duel.  The stars brighten and fall faster, leaving holes in the ground and setting forests alight.  The sun hides in a bird’s nest, they say.
We did not see when the damage was done.  We were accustomed to avoiding to know even the names of those who fought.  Our eyes were far from windows.
But duels always ended the day after they began, and we stepped out as if we were free.
Your eyes caught the light first, and when I followed them my air caught in my throat.  Like going underwater without the protection of a mermaid.
That day our world was on fire.  The glass of the town hall had melted to colorful puddles on the ground.  Some houses were gone - some people too, I realized.  Surviva
:iconAtheshya:Atheshya
:iconatheshya:Atheshya 128 42
Midna Particle Magic by maccollo Midna Particle Magic :iconmaccollo:maccollo 2,383 192 ruthar 2 by Djetho ruthar 2 :icondjetho:Djetho 954 46 POTC2- The Black Spot by shinga POTC2- The Black Spot :iconshinga:shinga 3,350 518
Journal
Art and expectations
Dear, deviantart fellow artists  
There are times when having way too low or way too high expectations can lead to bad results and have a negative impact on things that we do and how we feel.. but how to deal with this problem? How to achieve the perfect balance that would help us in our creative journey? Here are my thoughts about the topic, that I hope might be helpful for you. :)
Too low expectations
When you think that you're not good enough, that you lack the skill, talent that other artists have, being afraid of failing and overthinking all the time. But all those things do only harm - stopping you from actually doing the work, even though you may think that you are not able to do that, it doesn't mean that it's true. You'll never know if you won't try.
It's so easy to find all those excuses, but it takes a lot of persistence to not let doubts and low self-esteem stand in our way. We all are humble and we all have flaws.
Aim
:iconsnowmarite:snowmarite
:iconsnowmarite:snowmarite 136 21
Young Sirius and Remus by CaptBexx Young Sirius and Remus :iconcaptbexx:CaptBexx 1,714 94

Newest Deviations

Literature
Velveteen Cat
I dreamt I was followed by the cat.
She shows up often.
Down the stairs, two at a time by the railing.
Her whiskers trail the floor.
She doesn’t touch me, but she is warm.
 
Black, soft, velvet— she never makes a sound.
She’s not me, I am not quiet—
                My voice was just taken
She is strong; strong as something so small can be.
Her eyes glow,
                And the rat king cowers—
But she is not me.
                I like the rat,
                                And I can’t quite get her to stop hissing at it.
 
She brings me gifts,
Things I don’t
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 2 0
Literature
Soft Hearts
Hearts are not meant to be broken.
They are meant to rot.
Humans can be beautiful,
But tragic.
Love is meant to blissful,
Or erratic.
Human nature, though,
Is the ugliest nature on the planet.
We hurt each other on purpose.
There is nothing crueler than us.
We can be gentle,
Cordial, even.
But that is our choice.
And you, obviously,
Have decided against it.
Hearts were not meant to be broken.
And mine was meant to rot.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 0 0
Literature
When Wax Kisses Fire
Sometimes I think things are not meant to be.
No stars will ever align; no fate ever conjured.
Our destiny is as unfathomable as the sea.
We were born blind, lost, frightened, and backward.
The tragic story of the candle and the flame,
Like wax, we weaken under the heat of the other.
A mother without a child that cries out of shame,
The weight of her sorrow adding on to her anger.
Hopes, and thoughts, that have led us on,
Lead us to change directions, and take a chance.
Lives can still change, and when we are gone,
We can look back and see it was all circumstance.
A mother may kiss a child, a candle a flame--
But that is not fate, something else is to blame.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 2 0
Literature
Forty Six
One day,
Far away,
A child waits in your arms.
One day,
Far away,
Your love will be needed.
One day,
Far away,
You will never have to be afraid.
Life goes on,
And time does not stop.
But your family can guide you,
And you can survive.
One day,
Far away,
You’ll be truly alive.
One day,
Far away,
The tide will rise.
One day,
So far away,
You’ll eventually die.
Life goes on,
And time does not stop.
But your family can guide you,
And you can survive.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 2 3
Literature
Rated
You take me and you strip me down,
Until there’s nothing but the ground.
You may see me but we both know,
There’s nothing to show.
My skin will vanish like paper.
And I shall taper.
You decided to rate me.
To take me.
I am a doll in your possession.
Though, I have no need of your lesson.
Strip me down,
Strip me down until there’s nothing but the ground.
Rate me.
Take me.
But you won’t have me.
There’s nothing to me.
But me.
And can you take that away?
I don’t think so, you can barely stay.
Please, oh please, just stay away.
Break my porcelain arms,
But I have already sounded my alarms.
I will be avenged.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 0 0
Literature
Abandoned
Sometimes we wonder
If our Gods abandoned us.
If we are flawed.
If something is wrong with us.
And I will not lie,
We are imperfect.
And sometimes we are wrong.
But that means nothing.
Because there is no such thing
As perfection,
Or true justice.
Life goes on.
Make it your own,
Do not dwell on these things.
It is not something meant for the mortal mind.
But something other.
Greater.
Stronger.
The true you.
Do not let your faults make you who you are.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 1 0
Literature
Eyes
When he was born, she saw the world in his eyes.
He was her world.
And he was taken away from her so fast.
Two days old.
Two days—
And then he was gone.
You can love something forever,
But for some reason life doesn’t last.
He was her only son,
Her first child gone,
She would never see him play in the streets
And grow into the young man,
Instead, years passed.
When she was old and gone,
She thought back to her son.
The life he had only just begun
So quick and so short
Faster than that of her own.
Lying in her death bed,
Surrounded by her family—
She told his tale,
A two day trip.
His eyes bluer than her hardship.
The world he would have seen,
Perhaps was too hard, and perhaps he was too keen.
He lived a brief moment,
And all that was in that moment
Was what he needed.
He succeeded.
You see,
Her addiction made her blind.
Her first love
Was her son,
And he gave her eyes.
Eyes to see the world.
He cleaned up her vision,
Made her see the division,
From reality and a dream
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 2 1
Literature
Precious Treasure
Those moments when he got to hold her hand,
When he felt how soft and warm it was.
The bittersweet moments when he had to say goodbye,
And relished how horrible a kisser she was.
.
Those moments under the stars,
When she was alone and able to breathe.
The moments where she couldn't see,
And didn't need to,
Because she knew all she needed to know.
..
Those moments with one another,
Before they could no longer be together,
Those moments--
More precious than gold.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 0 0
Literature
Rainbow
She looked down on the fish in wonder.
Its beauty something to behold.
Its scales shimmered and were a blur,
With the colors of the rainbow.
She was five.
.
At fourteen she learned the colors of sin,
They were painted upon her flesh.
Her mother tried to console her,
They were only colors--
It wasn't enough.
She was young.
..
Red.
The color of her mother's life stained the ground.
Streak across the grass.
Green.
The color of her face.
She was sweet.
She was sixteen.
And she was turning sour.
...
Her grief was as dark as the sky,
And as deep a hue as the sea.
She promised she would never forgive him.
He killed her.
But love does not easily fade.
She was twenty.
...
Twenty five,
With a child pinker than the colors of dawn,
She found the note in the top drawer.
"Emotions come in many colors,"
She had written.
"Like the scales of a trout."
She broke down and cried.
That night, she called him,
Her father,
To tell him about his grandchild.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 0 0
Literature
Hold My Hand
Hold my hand,
Like I will never hold yours.
And maybe,
Eventually,
Perhaps,
I'll return the favor.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 1 0
Literature
Stars
They are seen when the night is its darkest for a reason.
They are their to show you the light.
A star may be dwarfed by the horizon,
But it is far from small.
A sun may burn a thousand times brighter,
Than that of any human soul.
But it is there for a reason,
To be one of your goals.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 2 0
Literature
Expectations
They can drown you,
Renown you,
Even take down you.
They can break you,
Make you,
Even forsake you.
They can be unfair,
Make you swear,
And leave you bare.
But you can do nothing,
So you go through the aching,
The hurting.
And maybe their doting won't be crippling.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 1 0
Literature
Night
Is her camouflage.
After all,
even the light can hide in shadow.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 1 0
Literature
Flowers
Flowers wither,
There is only a few that do not do.
After a while, they strip themselves bare,
Their petals going whichever way the wind blew.
Their stems curl,
Back from the way they grew.
And then there is nothing there.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 1 0
Literature
Under the Rain
Under the rain
It is wet and cold
But in the distance
Light can be seen refracting in the sky.
Under the rain
When the storm still has its hold
With the wind howling in vengeance
Nothing but a thin, high cry.
Under the rain
Watching the clouds unfold
The earth in its radiance
Seems cold.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 2 0
Literature
Happiness
It exists,
Just never when you want it to.
:iconKaniahlies:Kaniahlies
:iconkaniahlies:Kaniahlies 1 2

Groups

Activity


I dreamt I was followed by the cat.

She shows up often.

Down the stairs, two at a time by the railing.

Her whiskers trail the floor.

She doesn’t touch me, but she is warm.

 

Black, soft, velvet— she never makes a sound.

She’s not me, I am not quiet—

                My voice was just taken

She is strong; strong as something so small can be.

Her eyes glow,

                And the rat king cowers—

But she is not me.

                I like the rat,

                                And I can’t quite get her to stop hissing at it.

 

She brings me gifts,

Things I don’t want.

Never dead, but always dying.

She doesn’t like hurting things, or maybe she can’t,

I think she’s gone.

 

I hope to see her again.

After maybe a year or so of inactivity, I am more than likely going to begin funneling garbage out again like in 2013 - 2014.  "Why?" You ask, "I thought I escaped your never-ending fountain of bull." Well. The never-ending fountain of bull is kind of more than a hobby? Although I am trying to get a job (paid internship) at the newspaper and my degree is in journalism, my minor is creative writing. Which means I kind of have to finish stuff now to keep my comfortable dorm and a chance at becoming an RA.

What does this mean for you:
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.

I'm alive though? So, that's good.
And I'm in college. And I'm doing well in college--? I don't know when the punch in the gut will come, but I'm trying to steel myself for it and in comparison of my young, fresh faced, journalism peers I'm a three time war-veteran already writing newsletters for her dorm and an organization. Internship, here I come.

- Eliza
  • Listening to: The SUPER LOUD air conditioner in my dorm lounge.
  • Reading: Christine - Stephen King
  • Playing: Will I pass or will I fail?
  • Eating: I found a grilled cheese sandwich.
  • Drinking: This school only serves Pepsi. Only. Pepsi.

deviantID

Kaniahlies's Profile Picture
Kaniahlies
Eliza
United States
I am a college student working on earning a bachelor's degree in editorial journalism.

Currently I am on an indefinite hiatus.
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconkathleanore:
Kathleanore Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2016   Writer
Thank you so much for faving my cabinet story :)
Reply
:iconkaniahlies:
Kaniahlies Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2016
No problem, I loved it and it was very well written.
Reply
:iconkathleanore:
Kathleanore Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2016   Writer
Aww :blush:

And thank you so much for the watch as well! :)
Reply
:icondysprosium162:
Dysprosium162 Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the Llama!
Reply
:iconkaniahlies:
Kaniahlies Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2015
No problem.
Reply
:icondraganthemighty:
DraganTheMighty Featured By Owner Jan 28, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fav.
Reply
:iconkaniahlies:
Kaniahlies Featured By Owner Jan 28, 2015
No problem.
Reply
:iconarven92:
ARVEN92 Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the watch :)
Reply
:iconkaniahlies:
Kaniahlies Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2015
No problem.~
Reply
:iconarven92:
ARVEN92 Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
^^
Reply
Add a Comment: