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About Deviant Artist Steph HuttonFemale/Australia Recent Activity
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Literature
Blood and Bone
It's like a spark; a bright flash of luminous colours right before me. The spectrum blinds me, and just for a second, you seem real. But it's over now, and you're aura of blackness returns. When the world lit up, it disappeared, but now I can truly see who you really are. I grieve for you, not because I have lost you but because I don't understand how you could turn so blue. Once was a time when we were like sisters, in blood and bone. But now, every time we speak, our blood is shed, and all that's left is resent in the air, floating above our heads. Every sound that comes out of your mouth is a contrast from the last. I cannot listen much longer, yet I cannot desert you; we are stuck together in an immortal black hole, we can't avoid it. I've been bound to you for so long, forever dreaming of breaking free, voices on the outside whisper to me, consoling me, instigating action, but I've never found the strength in my own wings to do so. The voices on the outside are the true ones, the
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Literature
Freedom
The anger rushes down my veins, pulses through my body, until I am flowing with energy. The gun sounds, and the race begins. But as I run, feet barely touching the soft green grass below, my mind takes me back in time to school, to our athletics carnivals. The gun, the race begins.  But all grown up, things have different meanings. No longer, was the starting gun harmless; no longer was the race only to win a ribbon. But running, could still earn me a prize. Freedom. I feel his blood trickling down my cheek, to the corner of my mouth, the bitter taste of regret. But impulse action has its retributions. Running still, the gun slips out of my hand, no time to retrieve it, must keep running. As I near the station, the train is pulling in from the other direction. This train will lead me to freedom, which is one of the few things in this world that I know. My knowledge is scarce, but freedom, I have spent my entire life planning it. And now I shall have it. Freedom.
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Literature
balloon love
there's a thing called love. most people dont understand how much it hurts, until they've experienced it's beauty. it's so hard, to come back from the deapths of the ocean, back to that hot air balloon, that you used to drift along in. you used to cruise along in the sky, with not a care in the world, but then the balloon, the flame went out. you began falling, down at rates not immaginable, and plumit straight into the ocean. some people are lucky, and manage to swim away from the wreckage. but most get dragged under. forvever sinking. but you need to find the strength to hold onto your love, and drag each other back to the surface. you will never have the courage to enter a hot air balloon with that person again, but you can walk the plains and deserts of the world with them. on the ground, where everything is safe. it is not fair to hate. the balloon crash was not their fault, nor was it yours. it was just a faulty balloon.
i do not hate you for crashing our balloon. we crashed it t
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Literature
childrens memories
I walk the alleys
Of the childhood I had
Re-living the past
I see the people
Those strangers I used to know
I remember now
But something inside
Brings me here again tonight
To your house once more
And as I knock now
Your wrinkled smile reminds me;
I’m living the past
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Literature
Light
I see the shadows
The darkness is closing in
I feel all alone
But then you walk by
Your beam of light is blinding
The shadows retreat.
I follow your light
Every breath, more darkness fades
Every step feels warm
And when we first met
Those few seconds of pure light
Made me a human.
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Literature
Beautiful Beaches
You’re walking along a beach in the middle of nowhere.
The crystal clear water playing chasie around your toes.
The single grains of sand exfoliating your smooth, tanned skin.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of something red.
As you walk over to the strange patch of contrast,
You see that it is not seaweed; it is in fact a stranded starfish.
You examine the creature, and notice that it is dying.
So you pick it up to place it on the shore of the cool water.
But as you go to put it down, it grips onto you like a child on their first day of school
You try to shake it off, but it just grips tighter.
So you sit down deep into the shore of the ocean, with the water splashing over your shoulders.
You rest your hand on your knee, which is under the water, and leave it there.
When you wake up, the tide is out and the starfish gone.
It had gotten used to the quiet motion of the oceans’ waves caressing over its back.
It let go, just as the tide had reached the top of
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Fishing by fire-clann Fishing :iconfire-clann:fire-clann 0 0
Literature
Hurt
When it hurts to be sad
You know you’re alive
When it hurts to insult
You know you’re alive
When it hurts to frown
You know you’re alive
When it hurts to cry
You know you’re alive
When it hurts to scream
You know you’re alive
But when it doesn’t hurt to die
You know you lived.
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Steph Hutton
Artist
Australia
Current Residence: Australia
Personal Quote: Never regret anything that once made you smile...

Comments


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:iconkaphrin:
kaphrin Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2010  Student General Artist
Hay Steph ^-^

Thanks for the watch. :heart:
Reply
:icongreendress:
greendress Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2008
HEY BABY :)
it's erikaaa
Reply
:iconfire-clann:
fire-clann Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2008
helloo.
=)
i love your photos!
lol
xxx
Reply
:iconmartinasdf:
martinasdf Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2008
thank you for the fav:D

And welcome to DA :)
Reply
:iconfire-clann:
fire-clann Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2008
your welcome :)
and thank you
Reply
:iconautolux:
autolux Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2008
yoooung
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:iconfire-clann:
fire-clann Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2008
very.
:)
Reply
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