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the reasons I keep going back to this pen, paper, typewriter. :heart:



your-methamphetamine writes poetry that punches the reader in the gut. It is heart-wrenchingly real, and it never fails to move me. It is evocative and poignant, getting the truth of the matter in both astounding and unsurprising, both straight-forward and back-alley entrances: she utilizes all of these approaches and leaves the reader gasping, breathless for more. Check out her gallery!!
-- travelgirlxx

your-methamphetamine creates a new world with each piece the pens. It's as if she opened a door into her mind and is letting you view her intimate thoughts. The images in each of her writings are gorgeous beyond measure, letting the reader visualize perfectly what she is trying to convey, and imagine exactly what feelings she had when she was writing the piece.
-- DrippingWords

your-methamphetamine writes with amazing intrigue. Her pieces are at once heartwrenchingly revealing and mysterious – they beg to be read and reread until the lovely haze is cleared leaving the characters exposed and related to. The words fit together as if they could not be arranged any other way which lends a natural cadence to them.
-- 0hgravity



your-methamphetamine's Profile Picture
sometimes girl.
Artist | Student | Literature
10011 | med student | nomad | wanderlust-bitten | yugen-driven | effervescent | loved | forgetful | words and music ventilated | still getting used to these- legs, arms, fingers | mastering the art of being left behind | human

I fancy myself a youth slam poet, guilty of falling in love with the unfamiliar. I have been published over at The Missing Slate, Modern Day Fairy Tales and cahoodaloodaling. my first spoken word album, the articulation of my vertebrae is now available for download on my bandcamp! go get your copy!



not much has changed;
I still listen to the red-lipped boy
frightened back to the closet
passing comfort under my door
to every disarray he left
for dead

I still close my eyes in winter
mornings, hoping the sun warms
my breath and melts
the dewy tears from the nights

don't worry, love
not much has changed;
I still listen to a thousand brittle piano keys
breaking into a sinus rhythm
and blasphemous hymns
I still sing along
and repent

I still think of strangers sweating
underneath me
I still hope no one knows
I still
hold my breath till it hurts
more than the crunched cluster
of pain he left

I don't hurt over wonderland
and fucking him to submission
I don't have friends the way
I used to
I don't tear up at the thought of god
even if I secretly hope he finds
it in him to love me still

but I still wish on grains of sand
till they are washed away to silt
and find life within their centers

I still write to ventilate
and smile to validate
the wrong done unto me
I still dance harder than the sleep
begging in my bones
I still dance

I still dream

I still

dear me,
not much has changed:

don't worry.
to the girl still kneeing her eyes
i started this writing challenge where i force myself to write something everyday and today's day 34 and i'm feeling pretty cool about that. 

thank you for any feedback you have. :heart:
psssst, go listen:…


if you could spare a look that doesn’t drop
my surfactant by the halves, please do. the truth
is this; your favourite song is Virtual Insanity
and my favourite is watching you tap a quadrant
on the steering wheel when you drive
on the afternoon-warmed pavement.

the truth is that you sleep till the pit in your stomach
dissolves, that you draw diagrams for my morning
mechanics and arrow out results like, “hey, beautiful,”
with dust still rimming your tearing eyes,
just so I don’t fall off every tight-rope
dawn welcomes me with;

you throw your head back so your spine is erect.
your dialect rolls r’s in envious ways and I want to be
your tongue most days, to rim your cheeks inside
and out gathering your taste like settling dust
in dark rooms with beams of light.

the truth is that I could be wrapped in all of time
and space, the matrix that stretches across every
dimension time-travelers have creased the universe
with and I would still, in eve-

the truth, darling
is this: you stretch when you’re restless
and curl in when you thin out. you
protrude your jaw when you make a hefty
turn and your knuckles smile sometimes,
dimpling troughs I’ve kissed enough
times to memorize these contours.

you blink differently when you make a point
and your horrible puns will always surprise me.
your eyes are sleepier when you smile to me
and these creases on your forehead
disappear in my arms’ reaches;

you narrate stories like you make grocery lists;
passion comes as easy to you as despair
comes to me and lies escape you like sleep
teases me: honey you complete me

sweet darling, you
are a walking remedy
for an ailment I was unaware of housing

you are the verve in each one
of my limbs, the pace in this chest
the unrest of my shelved
dreams; you are drowning one
sense drag the other—

breathing is for the weak.
begging my fingertips to shudder proud
and toes to dig in. don't you dare relent.
i have been asking to be tested
and your half-starts
and absent effort
are not enough
this time.

darling, my spine is bowed,
aimed, and eager. let fly this
cedar with haste holy. extol
the bony curve with sharp, perfect
curve of goals reaped. your
hesitant altitude will meet
my hyperanimate speed
and follow,
or at worst, shatter.

i am a spectrum, awaited magnetically--
resonating scents of fresh steel
and you ask me to stay a phoenix,
quivering with the radiance 
of precursor suns.

you assign me a corner of the universe to set on fire
and i weave tales of mistaking skies for schoolyards,
breaking tiles for poor shards just to piece
subtle plans and dried palms

you can hold me, lover;
i promise to bend you right.
conditioned and ready.


with gliitchlord as always. :love:
little lungset, you curse some dawns
more than others. your druthers deserve
moebius love and touchless wonder.
your sunflirt draws us in new lunge
and awes us to dewplunged glades.
you sift spades from the diamonds
and pressure them, bind them,
dress them in glittering islands
and flittering sighs. and
i count myself in diminutive strings
within your pi.

love, your offset horizon tipped to tilted
beauty resembles my tyrannous spine; 
unwavered, so beaten, cleaved and laden
yet slain and laid to rest once gravity 
is teething. there is little stasis on the ground
your arches have carved, much worry
outlined to fit your soles. on the bases 
of quarterly breaks, I will take your purity
as mine, a divine labyrinthine twinkle
in voices, finally kind.

we have found a purity, ancient
and impervious to age. lost to time and
spatial awareness, stumbled upon by
two sets of daft feet. ask me
if forever makes sense and i will draft us
lasting. lastly, whenever i am presented
with sure love i will humbly remember
your purpose, unwavering.

remember me, with clarity my purpose
a rarity i forget with ease as the externs
enmity startles my lymphs. invert and evert
your toes when they need you, as I do;
breathing as deliberate as the force between
our absence, is the infinity we took to carve
our own path and stand it.


Add a Comment:
Dragonlover84 Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I got here from another deviant, fuzzyhoser. From a link I heard your beautiful spoken poetry. Milady, you have a wonderful talent for the written word, and I am most pleased to become a watcher. I look forward to more of what is to come as I wander through your gallery. :) :heart:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday :heart:
Shoeborn Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2015  Student General Artist
Happy birthday! I love your poetry, especially the albums you put out. Thank you for sharing your words with us.
DalekCaanII Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday!! ^-^ :party: :cake:
lavenderl Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday! birthday cake 
Add a Comment: