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Literature
over/nighters
i closed my eyes and when i opened them again,
suddenly autumn wasn’t wrapped around me anymore.
replacing its protection was ice
on my eyelashes and snow escaping with my breath.
i don’t know how to be this new person. confusion is tattooed on my temples,
a constant pounding headache.
i tried to not let it get this way.
but instead of staying at home and wrapping myself in a blanket and drinking my sorrows away in
coffee, i run away and hide in an old, cheap apartment on the second story.
the floor creaks as i walk on the stained carpet
but i’d rather curl up under blankets next to someone who doesn’t love me
than try to figure out a response to someone who does.
safe havens aren’t always what you think they will be.
third wheeling it in a semi-awkward silence, burying myself in homework.
my phone is dead. can’t respond to anyone. peace.
sometimes we just watch movies and order domino’s pizza
and sometimes we drive around in the rain, too, and
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 4 0
Literature
12.1.16.
there isn’t really a way to feel warmth in the winter time.
frost collects as dust,
subconscious fragments of used-to-bes
                                    and could-have-beens
captured almost forever in fragile pieces of what once was a story.
materializing in the oddest of places: little cracks in the sidewalk and
in  |  between the faded pages of books in an old, unwandered bookstore—
ice, preserving memories that [should] have been forgotten.
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 4 0
Literature
fa(sin)ated .
i peek at the stars,
sometimes,
because even though they’re so         far   away
it seems like maybe
there’s more to them than
overused metaphors and clichés.
at least i haven’t forgotten how to breathe yet.
silently, the air fills my lungs—once . . .  twice
and again.
sometimes i’m too busy memorizing faces
and reading in between lines that i almost
forget. i almost stop time in between my teeth
and start living(drowning) in those split second moments
when bad decisions are made and promises are
br o         k    e
            n.
but i don’t and sometimes it makes me feel
foolish that i find constellations in eyes
and patterns in smiles but then i remember
what i said about girls and believing and doing.
she believed she could and so she did
it’s a whisper, slipping against my skin
and settling against my ribcage. i can’t get rid of it.
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 7 0
Literature
before this
he didn’t create me to be independent.
he didn’t ask for me to be strong.
i would have done anything for him
and yet somehow
giving my everything to him just wasn’t enough.
i guess nobody really told me about the difference
between love and infatuation.
maybe they should have.
maybe it would have stopped me.
maybe,
i wouldn’t have learned submission.
maybe,
i wouldn’t have learned how to shove my feelings away
and do anything to make him happy.
do you know what it’s like to be in a relationship where only the other person matters, but that’s okay because you’re “beautiful and amazing and way more than i deserve” except you took too long to respond and you accidentally said yes and now everything is spiraling out of control and you can’t stop it so you just keep going even though you know in your heart you’re gonna get hurt...
i didn’t think i was looking for a relationship.
i didn’t realize i was
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 4 1
Literature
on re-learning how to exist
i.
count to twenty on your knuckles; they’re
bruised from beating on a closed door.
one. two.
                  three. four.
five.
fivefivefive weeks, nights, times i thought
just maybe…
stop. please, stop.
fold up those false hopes into your paper cranes like before
and stash them away in the same place you hid the lies.
search the room,
look for edges and corners to trace, just like the one
i thought i wouldn’t fall off of.
they didn’t tell me it would be like this.
ii.
breathe in the poison and learn to love its sting.
numb. i’m, i can't—
must breathe. must function.
focus, because
if you don’t let the emotions crawl under your skin,
bury themselves in your heart and claw out holes
where there was once warmth and light,
the shallow breaths will consume you
until there isn’t any you left at all.
iii.
lie in bed at four in the morning,
when the sun isn’t quite
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 6 8
Literature
the boy who fell to the city
i.
he grew up surrounded by concrete blocks haphazardly thrown together and said to be a city. thrust right into the middle of it, he lived like a thief. he slipped away from the crowds and thrived behind the scenes. the urban trash at his feet didn’t slow him from living dangerously. smoke ran in his veins in the same way that the smog from the city reflected in his eyes and seeped from his skin. he wasn’t good. but he wasn’t all bad, either. the bricks and granite hardened him in the same way that his sunrises were punches to the throat and his sunsets were slippery deals made in the shadows behind bars. he woke up to noise and lived his life by noise and never really slept because of noise. he never knew what peace was. he hadn’t been given any option but to scuff his ratty boots on the sidewalk and buck up—fast. but it wasn’t what he wanted. somewhere inside him he knew that breathing lies and pretending to be tough wasn’t all there was. bu
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 2 0
Literature
2:18 am
he looked at her and she was tired.
clouds covered the stars and it was too dark to be honest.
her eyes saw his fire but everything felt dead and
de t  ach  e d  .
she couldn’t make herself feel.
instead she sat and choked on words and smoke and
she couldn’t make up her mind.
her tired eyes closed,
blocking out the fire and the heat and letting it all go.
there would be another time worth feeling.
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 3 0
Literature
there is a girl
there is a girl.
she has an atlas tattooed on her soul and carved into her bones;
shielding it from view, she flees
across burning bridges and cuts her feet on broken promises.
she’s been through red skies and has felt kisses burn at three a.m.
burning, because she has always known they were temporary,
just like herself.
the floor shatters beneath her bare feet as she searches for her worth,
searching in vain, because she’s become paper-thin and transparent.
unable to see herself in cracked mirrors and muddy reflections,
she turns away, wiping away black tears she refuses to acknowledge.
there is a girl.
bruises color her emotions and taste bitter on her tongue.
this is what’s left of her, insecurities leaking through the cracks,
her hard exterior is not enough to protect her all the time.
she runs.
profanities scratch her throat as she relives all the times he lied
and she leaves behind a trail of sincerity that only others can see.
all she can see is a soot-stained
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 6 2
happy birthday by silverthorne-studios happy birthday :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 2 0 Forgetting by silverthorne-studios Forgetting :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 8 10 Through the Clouds | Trade by silverthorne-studios Through the Clouds | Trade :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 8 2 curious filly by silverthorne-studios curious filly :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 3 1 fading by silverthorne-studios fading :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 4 0 honesty in your eyes by silverthorne-studios honesty in your eyes :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 6 8
Literature
wanderlings
for a moment we were wrapped in the cozy warmth of a crystal blue sunrise. we had everything and nothing going for us as we scattered their beliefs about us and lived on the edge of a thunderstorm. we willed it to swallow us whole, drown us in its depths so we would not have to any longer bear the condescending tones and disappointed sighs. we tried too hard yet never enough, dancing precariously on an invisible line between the two. for a second we wavered, tipped softly to one side or the other but we could never really fall because our hearts, though wild, had the right intentions behind them. never able to leave, we tried to fly free with clipped wings, shackled by society and the never ending press to do more, be more. we couldn't be everything they wanted us to be but we could never be anything we wanted to be either. so we escaped to our minds, creating fantasies where reality should have been. living inside them. thriving. but that sunrise was poisonous, taking advantage of our
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios
:iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 2 0
A Walk in the Riverbed by silverthorne-studios A Walk in the Riverbed :iconsilverthorne-studios:silverthorne-studios 16 8

To Do List



whenever I've got time
What's next??
-- Art Trade w/ moodsswings of Alerion Progress Bars - Purple colors %25 by Kazhmiran
-- Personal: Practice Progress Bars - Purple colors %100 by Kazhmiran

Want to add to my to-do list? Art trades are open. Just note me!



...

Progress Bars - Purple colors 0 by Kazhmiran Not Started
Progress Bars - Purple colors %25 by Kazhmiran Just Started
Progress Bars - Purple colors %50 by Kazhmiran Halfway Done
Progress Bars - Purple colors %75 by Kazhmiran Nearly Complete
Progress Bars - Purple colors %100 by Kazhmiran Completed

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silverthorne-studios
Anastasia
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Equine Artist Stamp by Losmios I Love Horses Stamp by Black-Heart-Always Love Horses by yelirx

ana | 18 yrs old | equestrian | writer | photographer

That's basically me in a nutshell right there <33 Call me Ana, Silver, whatever you'd like. I'm a freshman in college, on my way to major in social work and minor in criminal justice, and I'm kind of a mash-up of a lot of stuff. I first created this account for my photomanipulations a few years ago, but it has since evolved into a place for all my artistic endeavors including photography, writing, and occasionally digital drawings. In everything I do I am merely an amateur and hobbyist - I don't plan on going to school for art, but I do enjoy it.

I love and appreciate every single favorite, comment, watch, page view, etc. even if I don't get the chance to thank everybody for their support.

:+fav:s, comments/critiques, and :+devwatch:s always welcomed and greatly appreciated! You do not need to thank me for favs and watches, it's simply my way of supporting all the great artists deviantart has to offer.

DevID Picture by Shelley Paulson. www.shelleypaulson.com

page divider by lithiumharddrive

Gallop Stamp by Tollerka Horse riding stamp by LadyRavensknot Dreaming the Impossible-STAMP by Black-Heart-Always
Interests

    I didn’t see the sign telling me I had a stop sign ahead. I didn’t see the stop sign. I didn’t see the van right in front of me.

    One second, I was listening to music, driving down the road to work. The next, I was screaming as I braced myself against the wheel of my car, slamming on my brakes and skidding into the ditch. One second. One second of not paying attention was all it took to make me realize maybe I wasn’t as safe of a driver as I thought I was.  I didn’t understand what happened at first. In a daze, I saw my deployed air bags and the crumpled hood of my car, smoke leaking out. Lurching out of my vehicle, I stared in disbelief behind me at the stop sign I somehow missed. I couldn’t breathe. I saw the van I hit. Kids. There were kids in the backseat. A man was running over to me, shouting profanities in my face. All I could do was stutter, tears streaming down my cheeks.

                I got lucky. Nobody was hurt in the accident I caused. If I had been a split second earlier, I would have T-boned the other vehicle, and the accident could have been much worse. Instead, I was shaken up with a couple bruised knees. The couple in the other vehicle, and their children, were just shaken up as well.

                After my accident, I became a different driver. I got a ticket for running a stop sign and had to go to court for it. I had to complete six months of probation where I couldn’t get any moving traffic violations, so I basically didn’t drive anywhere. I was too afraid to risk getting a ticket or getting into another accident and ruining my record. Once I did start driving again, I felt like I was starting over. After an entire winter of little to no driving after my accident, getting behind the wheel again was nerve wracking. I felt like I was starting over. Now, I’m comfortable driving again. However, almost every time I get into my car, I still think about my accident. When I pass an intersection (even an empty one), I still cringe and slow down. If there’s another car coming up to a stop sign, I still tense up, almost expecting them to blow through it, like I did. However, that has led me to drive more carefully. I don’t “space out” like I used to. I watch other drivers more too. I expect the worst and plan for it.

                Of course I had known about distracted driving before my accident. Just like everyone else, I had heard the warnings not to text and drive or eat while driving, etc. Nobody ever told me that my own mind could be my greatest threat while driving. I’ve never eaten while driving. I don’t apply makeup or text or do anything but drive while I’m behind the wheel. I don’t speed or drive aggressively, and I always wear my seatbelt. I don’t even listen to my music very loudly. I envisioned myself as a pretty safe driver. Until the day I didn’t see a stop sign and hit another vehicle. Maybe I was just too comfortable. I was used to driving on one road to work, but that road was closed. I took another way and the new route had a stop sign in a spot that my normal route didn’t. I was on autopilot, listening to my music and thinking about something, I’m sure. But I wasn’t on my road. I was on a different road and my distracted driving led me to get into an accident.

                I’m grateful my accident wasn’t worse. Despite scaring myself and my family, going through court and insurance processes, and having to buy myself a new car, at the very least no one was seriously injured. I was startled into developing better driving habits.  I pay more attention to the road and those around me now.  I also understand the importance of having good car insurance.  The driver of the vehicle I hit did not have insurance but I did.  My insurance paid for my expenses, making it easier for me to move forward.  I feel in the end that I have learned a lot and am better off having gone through this horrible ordeal.

Comments


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:iconwolfsbane6:
wolfsbane6 Featured By Owner Apr 17, 2017
Thank you so much for the favs, Anastasia!
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:iconsparkle-photography:
Sparkle-Photography Featured By Owner Mar 30, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav:. :) :heart:
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:iconsparkle-photography:
Sparkle-Photography Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav:. :) :heart:
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:iconsparkle-photography:
Sparkle-Photography Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav:'s. :) :heart:
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(1 Reply)
:iconwolfsbane6:
wolfsbane6 Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2017
Thank you so much for the favs Anastasia!
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