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About Literature / Hobbyist Adrienne PaynterFemale/Canada Recent Activity
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Literature
Evanescence
You’re supposed to make love the night of your wedding day, but John and I did not.  Frankly, I don’t know how anyone can.  We were exhausted.  Our day started at the crack of dawn to get ready and was filled with constant adrenaline, standing, travelling, photos, socializing, speeches, dancing; before we knew it, it was 3 am and we had no energy left for anything else.
So, the night of our wedding day, John and I just sprawled our clothes across the chairs in our fancy hotel suite and crawled into bed.  Both laying on our backs, looking up at the beautifully painted ceiling, we sleepily recalled our favourite moments of the day.  Like when his father was the first to get on the dance floor and make a total fool of himself, and when my maid of honour made half the room tear up with her beautiful speech about how happy we’ve been from the very start.
I nuzzled my face into his collarbone and murmured, “This has been the best day of my lif
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Literature
Collision
I looked out the window of my car, holding the wheel straight as I took in the sight of the thick fog blanketing the field next to the back road I was taking home.   My driving disturbed the sluggish billow of clouds that, this morning, were just too heavy for the sky.  
A man sang me a melancholy refrain through my car’s radio: Here by my side, an angel…
There was a certain peace to the way the fog blended everything together into indistinct shades of white and grey.  The occasional mundanities of traffic lights, hydro poles, and billboards had faded into nothing more than nebulous shapes, an alien scene from another world.  With no other cars in sight, it felt as though I was the only person to exist.  Just me, surrounded by innumerable suspended droplets, each of which would be transparent up close, but from a distance they fused to become something entirely different in their solidarity, something opaque.  As I mused on this, a paral
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Literature
My Own Song of Fire and Ice
I could not have foreseen the warmth you would bring to my life,
though your fiery red hair should have been a sign.
Through a sideways smile,
you tell me you could kiss me forever,
and I oblige
in our own little overnight trysts
secluded from the world.
Your pale, icy blue eyes
are like sun showers, flash frozen.
A blizzard that locked away the painful moments of my past,
turning them into nothing more than tiny air pockets
in the solid surface upon which we now walk forward,
hand in hand.
With your touch,
you give me heated sighs
and chilled goosebumps both,
effortlessly.
You are my own song of fire and ice.
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Literature
A Rose in a Black Hole
I push my collection of thorns into my skin,
their edges worn down from incessant use,
no longer reaching my veins.
Stretching open half-healed wounds
in order to armour me
from the vast, heavy loneliness
that threatens to crush me from all sides.
But the fear, in its eternality, suffocates worse than any pain.
So I inhale, let it pour like molasses down the walls of my lungs.
As it reaches the bottoms and begins to pool
I realize
I am still breathing.
I am still alive.
I raise my face up,
in full surrender to whatever lies ahead.
And all the thorns,
the remainders of all that lies behind,
fall away.
I am naked,
and in that is my newfound strength.
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Literature
Caress
With ever-so-soft finger traces,
I connect the freckles on your chest,
creating our own constellations
in the new milky ways
that erupt into existence wherever we touch.
Your cool caress across my lips
makes my every nerve awaken,
craving the unknown taste of yours.
But you hold back,
leaving me to longingly breathe you in
like a passing summer breeze.
I savour how you shudder,
a silent sigh of your body
as my hand brushes
the top of your spine,
and the way the little hairs rise
into the glow of the moonlight
that slow-dances in the air above your skin.
And tonight
I wouldn't mind if the sun forgot to come up.
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Literature
Eau de Insomnia
Your smell lingers on my pillow
so I do not sleep.
I choke on the oxygen
we no longer share.
It's laced with thoughts of you,
misty tendrils that take hold
and spread like ivy
along the inner walls of my lungs.
How can I close my eyes when
I see you imprinted
on the insides of their lids?
As if your face was the sun
and I stared for too long,
welcoming a blindness
that never came.
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Literature
.This circle never ends.
The photo of us
is filled with holes from each time
it's torn off the wall.
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Literature
Moonbeam Epiphanies
You sit on the windowsill in a stranger's room,
gazing out at nameless people,
their faces sickly yellow beneath the streetlights.
The stranger's breaths are an unfamiliar rhythm,
out of sync with everything you once knew.
Now you're tuned into all that is off-beat;
the wrong radio frequency
and a broken dial.
You wish to be outside,
but if you left
you'd be wishing you were right back here.
Because restlessness, ironically,
is attached to you in one steady place,
but you can't figure out where.
Like a phantom itch,
impossible to satisfy.
Wanderlust, minus the desire;
just because
you don't know what the hell else to do.
If you're still,
it all settles in;
everything you can't face
will prove that it's here to stay.
So you run
because no, no, no,
not yet, please just wait...
Your hourglass figure ticks,
the sand knocking against your ribcage:
Can I come in now?
If you keep moving,
the grains, the seconds,
bounce around aimlessly but never fall,
never fall into reality.
Moonbeam
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Literature
Osteoporosis
Today,  
I didn't try to hide
how I grind my teeth
when I speak to you,
so you'd hear my contempt
through locked jaws:
"Why can't you ever just let me be happy?"
Today,
I didn't force a laugh
to protect your ego,
because you wouldn't do the same.
Instead you gift-wrap your condescension
as if I should be grateful for it.
As if I'd always have the tact
not to re-gift.
Today,
I didn't take the chance
to be a useless bystander, watching
as you step all over those you deem smaller,
who really just have more patience
than you'll ever understand.
Today,
I didn't fall captive
to your occasional kindness:
the life raft you throw to yourself
when you see you've just about drowned
in your own created conflicts.
Today,
I didn't try to deny
that the most dangerous thing about you
is your selective deafness
to the word
stop.
Today,
I have had enough
of your need to be at the top.
And as the rungs of the ladder beneath you gave way,
I turned my back.
And one by one,
down each step m
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Literature
Jury Duty
I choke down the things
you wouldn't understand
so I don't have to shrink
under your judgement.
My third eye turned inwards
is jury enough;
never experiencing anything but
playbacks of bygones
of a girl no longer here.
All I know is hate for my past,
so I'll never let you see it.
All you know is love for my present,
so you don't understand
why compliments make my gaze
shift down.
Smiles fade;
can't fight the current,
the whirlpool,
pulled down
into the depths
of my own Mariana Trench.
Through these lies,
my past infects who I've become;
sickly purple veins
climb my limbs like ivy
till they reach my heart
and shut it down.
I'm so sorry I haven't been honest,
but if I didn't give myself a fresh start,
nobody would.
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Literature
You don't seem to notice (my scars)
-i-
Years Ago

He and I were eleven when we met, the first day of the sixth grade. No particular moment served as the spark to ignite our friendship.  As children do, we started talking as if we were already good friends, and were inseparable from the start.
There were rumours, but we didn't understand half of the words the other kids had picked up from R-rated movies, and neither did they. We were called King and Queen by a crowd of boisterous first-graders who followed us around at recess.  He joined the choir and the school play just because I did. It didn't take long before we weren't allowed to sit near each other on the school bus because we caused too much trouble, and eventually we weren't allowed to sit near each other in class either. One day, more quietly than I had ever heard him, he asked me to be his girlfriend; I blushed and said yes.
We never once invited each other to our houses.  We each had our reasons, but never knew the other's: a silent agreement to n
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Literature
Love is just chaos that makes you smile
7. August
You always had a way of holding my attention, and in that moment, I noticed nothing else.  But now, looking back, I remember one thing best.
The leaves were far too still.
The leaves were far too still as we took a walk arm-in-arm beneath trees whose branches were so intertwined that we could not see the sky.  It was dark on that path, but we were unafraid.
We came to an opening where the sky was visible above and there was a creek below, and a bridge.  That bridge...  I wonder if it still has our names carved in it after all these years.
Standing on the middle of that bridge, you kissed me and smiled that smile of yours… The one that could only come straight from your heart, squinting your beautiful brown eyes and squeezing my insides in way that made me always crave it.  I wanted to make you smile at me that way forever.
It started to rain so we headed back; by the time we reached the edge of the forest, it had become a downpour.  
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Literature
Angel in a Cage
My gods saw fit to give me an angel
with an affliction.
I have watched as her body entrapped her,
each year another rusty bar
holding her in,
bending her swollen joints into unnatural angles,
so that everyone can see
she can no longer fly.
But she only ever cries with a smile on her face.
Like in the moments when we make her proud
or tell her just how much we love her.
She has given us that power
over her pain.
Someday her iron bars
will outweigh her iron will
and crumble down upon her,
but she will outlast her final breath.
Because if she can lift us so high with hands that can’t even hold a glass,
nothing will ever stop our angel in a cage
from shining upon us.
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Critiques

BRB.

Tue Mar 3, 2015, 4:11 PM


Journal


*** EDIT (May 14, 2015) ***

Somehow I've managed to become even more busy than before!  I am now working two jobs: one at a neurofeedback clinic, and the other as a teaching assistant at my university.  Both of these are incredible (paid!) work experience in my field and invaluable to graduate school applications and the advancement of my career.  I'm also still doing full-time studies over the summer terms, PLUS working on my honours thesis.  And Jayc17 and I are getting ready to move into a new apartment in a few weeks.  So I'm still gonna be AWOL for a while unfortunately. 

What's funny is: I haven't checked dA in weeks, and the one day I had a random urge to drop by was the day I got my second DD (Evanescence)!!  Thanks so much to HugQueen for featuring me and to everyone who has read it, commented, favourited, and otherwise been lovely and supportive. I will get around to responding to everything eventually, I promise. 

All my love!! :heart: :deviantart:

_________________________________________
March 3, 2015
Hello my lovely watchers and passers-by, :wave: :heart:

There have been a lot of new developments in my life recently. All are very good, I'm glad to say: a new job, volunteering for multiple organizations in my field (mental health and therapy), as well as many other time-consuming preparations for my upcoming applications to graduate schools. This is, of course, on top of my full-time university studies, in which I'm starting my honours thesis next month, and making time whenever possible to spend with my better half (Jayc17). Needless to say, I am running dangerously low on free time, and I am sorry to report that I have realized that it's necessary for me to take an indefinite hiatus from deviantArt. I absolutely love love LOVE this community, however these other things must take priority over my time at this point. I'm not disappearing completely or permanently; I will still submit whenever I find the time to write something, but I won't be hanging around nearly as much.

Thank you all for understanding, and I'll be seeing you around! :love:

Adrienne / PaperbackRevelations

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PaperbackRevelations
Adrienne Paynter
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
:bulletred: I am 21 years old.
:bulletorange: I am in my fourth year of an honours Bachelor's degree in psychology. My next steps will be a Master's degree and then a career as a marriage and family therapist.
:bulletyellow: I am a huge bookworm and it is my biggest dream to become a published author.
:bulletgreen: I went to an arts high school for music. I sing and play piano and guitar. :music:
:bulletblue: I am also a professional portrait photographer. :camera: (Link below!)
:bulletpurple: I have multiple tattoos on both arms, and am planning for many more!
:bulletpink: Art is my life; I really can't get enough of it.

My Photography Account: :iconadrienne-paynter:
My Photography Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/AdriennePaynt…
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Comments


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:iconoleg-bardenkov:
Oleg-Bardenkov Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2016  Professional Traditional Artist
Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!:) (Smile)  
Reply
:iconshehrozeameen:
shehrozeameen Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday hun. Hope you have a good one.

Stay strong, and keep writing. Cheers.
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:iconpaperbackrevelations:
PaperbackRevelations Featured By Owner Dec 22, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks!! :heart: 
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:iconshehrozeameen:
shehrozeameen Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
anytime.
Reply
:iconfotografka:
fotografka Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you so much for :iconfavbomb-plz::huggle:

I'm very sorry for the late thank you, but when I went to college (law) I have completely no time for anything. I hope you understand :)
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