Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Varied / Hobbyist Chloe GreyFemale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Months
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 26 Deviations 25 Comments 709 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
City of the dead
Politics, bloodshed
He said, she said.
"Lie to me." "Kill me slowly."
This toxicity is cancerous.
What is this world anymore?
Alcohol no longer soothes the darkness.
The evil within dances,
To a lyricless song.
An abomination created
By our hands.
You can use silver bullets
Aim for the head.
Try fleeing through running water
And burning the bodies, but
It's no use.
Nothing can stop this incoming train.
No. Not when all we care about
Is the devil in the details.
This writing has no rhythm.
Im just trying to flower the seeds.
-Chloe Grey
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Serpent Myth
Thats it.
This has gone on for far too long.
Look me in the eyes, and tell me you meant well.
Tell me that, how you acted was out of concern.
Tell me what you did was out of friendship.
For too long I have put up with this.
Lies. Two facedness. Treating those you claim you care about, as dirt.
It is unacceptable.
GROW. UP.
Your type has broken down my defences and gained my trust.
You've cupped my heart with your hands.
Then ripped it apart, with no care in the world.
And all of you have still had the nerve to look me in the eyes,
Filled with crocodile tears
And tell me, that this is what a friend does.
You would belittle me for not telling you the problems I have
Then tell your self made audience.
Gaining self pity and self righteousness.
I mean, you are the good guys after all.
Right?
If I wanted it broadcasted, I would go up on stage myself.
But no. For some reason, I like my privacy, as strange as that is.
Don't. You. DARE.
Stand there with your justifications
and victim cards
Your
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Bread of shame
This attack has become something more.
The words I so easily deflected, have become embedded with thorns, broken glass and needles. I swear, it feels like I'm being torn apart.
Help me.
I cannot escape it. There's nowhere to run or hide.
No cover.
With flesh now exposed, the hunt is on. I have become the weak animal against this blood thirsty creature.
There's static crowding together around the edges, almost obscuring my sight. The constant movement and contrast of it is giving me a headache and it's so important that I stay alert.
I have to focus everything into acting the right way. If even my pulse flutters for just a fraction of a second, he will go for my jugular.
But it's so difficult.
It's taking all of my willpower just to keep it together.
Acid is burning my throat and nose, making it even harder to breathe. My body is already battling against me, trying to force me into hyperventilation.
It's making me light headed. Everything is appearing more sluggish by the second.
I'm ti
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 2 3
Literature
Nobody syndrome
It's an odd thing you know. The feeling of detachment.
At first, it'll be fine. Laughing, talking, dreaming, remembering. Making plans. Creating.
You'll go to bed. Maybe you'll sleep soundly, lost in the stories of your imagination. Or maybe you'll struggle, tossing and turning, waking to even the softest of touches, even the sound of a moths wing brushing against a curtain. Or the silence.
I just know that, when morning comes, the entity that found a way to cling to your heart, changes you.
You can no longer take joy in even the smallest of moments. Voices are an endless drone to get lost in. No matter how much sleep you grab, tiredness still cloaks you.
There's no moving forward. There's no moving backward. Time just...stands still.
This detachment.
It fills you with undescribable loss, that dosent feel like it's apart of you. It's just there, making it hard to see, slowing you down.
You want to leave this world. But not in the way you may think.
Not by cutting it short, permanently.
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 1 2
Literature
Untilted
Homelessness
'Is the condition of people without a permanent dwelling, such as a house or apartment. People who are homeless are most often unable to acquire and maintain regular, secure and adequate housing.'
Homelessness.
Something I've wanted to write about, but
Have been unsure on how to begin.
I've witnessed people, full of hopes and dreams
Become crammed into countless and nameless articles and numbers,
All grouped up as voiceless, faceless ghosts.
I've read about the rash of deaths.
Not tragedy. Not mourning.
A rash.
Like a death of a soul is just a passing irritation.
Apply the cream and be done with it.
These statistics, these subjects, these petitions and social experiments
Talk about the cold logic but never the struggling heart.
They never talk about the man, living under the stars,
Who, one day, dreams of going to Spain
To see his sister dance.
There's no thoughts on the woman who was forced to bus to the hospital
after a group of lads thought it funny to set their dog on
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Limbo
Guide my soul through this fog
I'm blind.
Brimming with molten glass,
I feel painfully dead inside.
Am I real?
Am I alive?
What is this insanity?
Tell me.
Before I die,
Do I get any last words,
A last sunrise, last raindrop, last meal?
Or not?
Will it be better that way?
No more pain, no more handling with care.
No dragging it out, just
Freedom.
Will it be freedom?
Or another prison?
One of my own design.
I have so many questions,
And little understanding.
All I know is
I've been halfway dead for a long time
Letting it be.
Trying to stay balanced.
I can't try anymore.
Only do.
-Chloe Grey
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Faith Falling
Once upon a time, I believed.
I believed there was a God.
The God.
Not one that causes war and loss and bloodshed, but one that loves and forgives. One that is happy as long as you do right.
I would pray every night, even when I was struggling to keep my eyes open and cluster bombs exploded along the inside of my head.
There was a tranquillity to it.
A late evening, asking for better times, no sounds but the house settling.
Then that feeling of safety as I closed my eyes and let slumber take me.
I was convinced things couldn't  get worse. I had faith that I wouldn't be given more than I could handle.
I was so naive.
The fragile balance I was convinced would go untouched, shattered.
Loved ones died. Not just one, or two or even three, but five. It wasnt peaceful but violent and ugly.
Why?
There were fights. Oh the fights.
Words hit me like a spiked baseball bat, over and over again, swirling in my brain, buzzing in my ears, filling me up and whining until I wanted to scream;
IT'S T
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Unannounced part 2
Hope coming unannounced, seemed to be the best thing to happen to me.
Hope was my angel, my reason, my everything and, in my eyes, there was nothing she could do wrong.
She was my best friend.
Until the day she wasnt.
I believed that she was the sunshine that could disperse my dark clouds.
But it turned out, she was infact the monster storm, waiting to destroy everything I ever knew.
The soothing lullabies that had helped clear my mind soon turned to sinister whispers, trickling into my ears and taking root inside my brain.
I couldnt even escape in slumber as I found it would seep into my dreams and poison everything it could reach, transforming it into something else.
Something nightmarish.
The new songs that I had learned, cut out and died, leaving me at the mercy of the whispers and the rainbow colours on my shoes had been washed away long ago in the constant downpour.
I tried. I tried so hard to make it work, but all was in vain. All I could do was ride out the storm.
I was battere
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Reaper's Lullaby
Eyes are closed
The time has come,
To say goodbye, the day is done.
With memories locked deep in your heart,
Your sorrows shall melt away.
Lips are sealed
And fingers brush,
Against the love, that's turned to dust
Your dreams shall shine bright
Against the dark
Just wait and you shall see.
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Fallout
You sit alone in your room...
The first half of your friends turned out to be backstabbers.
You never felt the sharp, twist of the knife nor the hot blood sliding down your spine. You only discovered it when you turned around one day and almost had your eye taken out.
For the longest time, the other half of your friends tried to shake you out of the nightmare that was your life, but you weren't having it.
As far as you were concerned, everything was rosy. Believing anything else would have destroyed you.
So you did the only thing you thought you could do at the time.
You pushed them away, to prevent that little bit of sanity you had from slipping out of your grasp.
...laying in silence...
Your family abandoned you.
The light revealed the dark corners of your life and they didnt want to see it. Blood or not, it wasn't their place to take action.
They wanted to carry on playing make believe, to pretend that everything was still picture perfect.
So they stuffed their noses with smelling s
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
The mystery of time
Time. It is both our ally and enemy.
At any given moment, a person can go from having too much time, to not enough. Walking with it, taking it as ours, to racing against it to reclaim it.
But did time ever belong to us in the first place?
We still can't be sure when we're going to die, we can only make predictions.
When we turn over to glance at the alarm clock, who's to say it's even right? It can be too fast, too slow, off by just a minute. We just dont know.
All we do know is that time sees purely in black and white.
Your time could end before witnessing the first cries of your new born baby. Before finishing the last page of the book you so desperately wanted. Before getting to say I love you, to the people that hold a place in your heart.
But it could also spare you, gifting you with another day, week, month, year.
We just dont know.
The truth is, no matter how much we tell ourselves we are the masters of time, it is infact in control of us.
Time is a mystery that has yet to be un
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 1
Literature
Looking and lost
'What are you looking for?'
Now that's a question with hundreds of different answers.
What am I not looking for?
I look for stars that shine brighter than most, to let me know that my loved ones have arrived safely to wherever we go when we die.
I search for secret signs in the steamed up windows of café's, in book titles and tea leaves and a number of other small things, to assure me that I'm on the right path, making the best decisions.
I watch out for rainbows on a rainy day and for emotions behind the carefully constructed faces of politicians and killers, to give me hope in the little bit of humanity we hear about day in, day out.
I scan for news of war and peace, deaths and lives, bad and good, to learn the patterns of the balance that's supposedly needed here.
I look for meanings in my dreams, solutions for my friends, faith for myself.
I seek out my purpose in life, but so far, nothing.
Its not like some of these things are lost. It's more, they were never there with me to
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 1 1
Literature
The Raven and the Dove
"I'll come back for you."
A heartfelt promise, written with care
Meaningful words now lost in the air.
Their wings melted, so they fell from the sky.
No time for prayers, just a silent goodbye.
Those brave souls flew too close to the sun
Under mans hand, their final act was done.
The surviving pilots arose from the ruins.
There's no more room for crying tears,
The loved ones of the fallen are here.
"The pain is still in veiw."
Remembering. It hurts.
Those brave men were once so naive and pure.
Laughter and smiles, so much to live for.
Cheeks glowing red, rushing fast through the streets,
Sweat streamed faces and rapid heart beats.
Going back further,
To first breaths, first steps, first words.
Now, never to be experienced, never to again be heard.
As for those alive?
Their brothers in arms are dead.
They have blood on each hand,
Left alone, repeating words that were said
Having to readjust to the laws of the land
With only fading memories of good times
And tear stained photos and lette
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
The corruption of a soul by SleeplessSock The corruption of a soul :iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 2 0
Literature
Unannounced
I remember when hope came to me.
It wasn't a gradual thing.
There were no warnings, no appointments nor words from God. I didn't have a vision like dream of a potential future in slumber or in a near death experience.
No, hope and I had become engaged in a conversation on a cold afternoon.
Within the first half hour, hope had managed to warm me by coaxing out the sun with soothing lullabies.
An hour later I found the light had chased away my fears.
Then, in the next two hours, hope sprayed my shoes with bright colours so that, in trying times, I could close my eyes and imagine myself walking on rainbows.
It helped remind me that there was still beauty in storms.
Three hours came and went and I had been persuaded to stop listening to the stuttering of broken records.
I learnt new, whole songs instead.
As time went on, I started to become more sure of myself. I was suddenly more talkative and able to laugh longer with ease.
Hope had managed to knock down my barriers and together, we grew
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 0 0
Literature
Dark
She's not afraid of the dark.
It's a thought that drifts into my mind as I glance up at the stranger, who has slight lines around her eyes and is surrounded by the black.
Cant you see, I want to yell.
Cant you see this darkness will devour us both?
But, despite the icy chill that must be caressing her spin, just as it is mine, despite the whispering words crowding the air, despite of knowing about the dangers of this ever lasting night, she smiles.
Her smile holds so much warmth.
Chloe Grey
:iconSleeplessSock:SleeplessSock
:iconsleeplesssock:SleeplessSock 1 0

Favourites

Mayor of the lost by Felixfellow Mayor of the lost :iconfelixfellow:Felixfellow 321 6 Mr Valentine by Triback Mr Valentine :icontriback:Triback 170 20 Redhead poppy by thefirebomb Redhead poppy :iconthefirebomb:thefirebomb 243 11 Mara Jade, Queen of Spades by watchherpaint Mara Jade, Queen of Spades :iconwatchherpaint:watchherpaint 17 4 Serenity by watchherpaint Serenity :iconwatchherpaint:watchherpaint 16 7 GhostBlade by wlop GhostBlade :iconwlop:wlop 5,041 136 Dawn by wlop Dawn :iconwlop:wlop 6,931 136 Feast by wlop Feast :iconwlop:wlop 5,885 102 The Lonely Parade by wlop The Lonely Parade :iconwlop:wlop 10,162 163 Betrayal by wlop Betrayal :iconwlop:wlop 4,904 105 Duel by wlop Duel :iconwlop:wlop 8,571 204 DVa by wlop DVa :iconwlop:wlop 8,878 158 Chaos by wlop Chaos :iconwlop:wlop 9,566 152 Sacrifice by wlop Sacrifice :iconwlop:wlop 13,825 187 Curtsey by wlop Curtsey :iconwlop:wlop 11,673 168 Bow by wlop Bow :iconwlop:wlop 14,982 426

Groups

This user is not currently part of any groups.

Activity


Politics, bloodshed
He said, she said.
"Lie to me." "Kill me slowly."
This toxicity is cancerous.
What is this world anymore?
Alcohol no longer soothes the darkness.
The evil within dances,
To a lyricless song.
An abomination created
By our hands.
You can use silver bullets
Aim for the head.
Try fleeing through running water
And burning the bodies, but
It's no use.
Nothing can stop this incoming train.
No. Not when all we care about
Is the devil in the details.

This writing has no rhythm.
Im just trying to flower the seeds.

-Chloe Grey
City of the dead
I haven't posted anything in a while, so I decided to write something spur of the moment! I also decided to write something cheerful because have you seen what I post? So I stuck on Light it up-Fallout boy, had a sing along, jotted hear words down. I took a look at it and thought, where did this come from?!
Thus leading me to the conclusion that im probably a potential serial killer.
Loading...
Thats it.

This has gone on for far too long.
Look me in the eyes, and tell me you meant well.
Tell me that, how you acted was out of concern.
Tell me what you did was out of friendship.
For too long I have put up with this.
Lies. Two facedness. Treating those you claim you care about, as dirt.
It is unacceptable.

GROW. UP.
Your type has broken down my defences and gained my trust.
You've cupped my heart with your hands.
Then ripped it apart, with no care in the world.
And all of you have still had the nerve to look me in the eyes,
Filled with crocodile tears
And tell me, that this is what a friend does.

You would belittle me for not telling you the problems I have
Then tell your self made audience.
Gaining self pity and self righteousness.
I mean, you are the good guys after all.
Right?
If I wanted it broadcasted, I would go up on stage myself.
But no. For some reason, I like my privacy, as strange as that is.

Don't. You. DARE.
Stand there with your justifications
and victim cards
Your, "I know whats best" and
"I only had your well being in mind".

Is blackmail okay?
Slating me behind my back and insulting me to my face?
Trying to guilt trip me into feeling sorry for you?
Keeping me from being with those that actually care about me,
So you can remain the 'best'.

NO
I have had enough.
I will no longer stand for this.
So continue your little games and lies
I will no longer be the fly ensnared in your web

I promise you. Next time I cross paths with someone of your kind, I will be ready.

I now know, the best way to be rid of a serpent, is to cut off its head.
In reality, no second head will grow back.

-Chloe Grey
Serpent Myth
I wrote this in the heat of the moment a couple of minutes ago.
It's a subject I've always wanted to write about, but never had any idea on how to start.
Loading...
This attack has become something more.
The words I so easily deflected, have become embedded with thorns, broken glass and needles. I swear, it feels like I'm being torn apart.

Help me.

I cannot escape it. There's nowhere to run or hide.

No cover.

With flesh now exposed, the hunt is on. I have become the weak animal against this blood thirsty creature.
There's static crowding together around the edges, almost obscuring my sight. The constant movement and contrast of it is giving me a headache and it's so important that I stay alert.
I have to focus everything into acting the right way. If even my pulse flutters for just a fraction of a second, he will go for my jugular.

But it's so difficult.
It's taking all of my willpower just to keep it together.

Acid is burning my throat and nose, making it even harder to breathe. My body is already battling against me, trying to force me into hyperventilation.
It's making me light headed. Everything is appearing more sluggish by the second.
I'm tired. I could just close my eyes now and drift away. I really want to, just to have one moment, but the stakes are too high.

It'll be over soon, it'll be over soon.

Breathe in, and out, slowly.

He's getting angrier. He wants to feed.
The smell of sweat is blocking my nose.

Hold on, it's almost-

My hand twitches. A nervous tick.

It's all that's needed.

"NO!"

The static explodes into red smeared stars, I can't see,
Can't breathe
I can't think.

All I can do is utter the same thing over and over, in the hopes that they're the magic words to fix it all.

"Imsorryimsorryimsorry."

The stars start to still. My hands are shaking. My scalp is drenched in cold sweat.

Silence.

Somehow, it's worse than the stream of ugly words.

Face screwed up in pure senseless rage, he goes for the killing blow.

My hope and bravery evaporates, leaving me with this nightmarish reality.

Something in me breaks.

I can't do this again.

I collapse onto the floor, and cover my head, almost as if praying, and I beg.
More toxic hatred, more poisonous insults. It goes on for an eternity.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it's over.

-----

It's not the action of hitting that hurts the most. The pain subsides eventually and the wounds heal over time.

It's the shame.

Clinging onto your neck, swimming in your eyes, pin prickling across your head. It seeps into your blood stream and turns to lead.

A heavy burden never to forget.

-Chloe Grey
Bread of shame
So!
This one is a bit more raw than I usually like to write but it's here now. I hope you enjoy.
Loading...
It's an odd thing you know. The feeling of detachment.

At first, it'll be fine. Laughing, talking, dreaming, remembering. Making plans. Creating.
You'll go to bed. Maybe you'll sleep soundly, lost in the stories of your imagination. Or maybe you'll struggle, tossing and turning, waking to even the softest of touches, even the sound of a moths wing brushing against a curtain. Or the silence.

I just know that, when morning comes, the entity that found a way to cling to your heart, changes you.

You can no longer take joy in even the smallest of moments. Voices are an endless drone to get lost in. No matter how much sleep you grab, tiredness still cloaks you.
There's no moving forward. There's no moving backward. Time just...stands still.
This detachment.
It fills you with undescribable loss, that dosent feel like it's apart of you. It's just there, making it hard to see, slowing you down.

You want to leave this world. But not in the way you may think.
Not by cutting it short, permanently. No.
You want to be somewhere else. Not in the here and now.
Pack up and start new. Different faces, different adventures. Reinvent yourself until the oldness is gone.
Escape and never look back.

But there's no way to do it.
So the out of body experience continues. Everything still passes in blurs and mumbles.
Maybe you'll wake up tomorrow.

-Chloe Grey
Nobody syndrome
I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas. Or just a lovely day.

Have fun with this one.
Loading...
Homelessness
'Is the condition of people without a permanent dwelling, such as a house or apartment. People who are homeless are most often unable to acquire and maintain regular, secure and adequate housing.'

Homelessness.
Something I've wanted to write about, but
Have been unsure on how to begin.
I've witnessed people, full of hopes and dreams
Become crammed into countless and nameless articles and numbers,
All grouped up as voiceless, faceless ghosts.
I've read about the rash of deaths.
Not tragedy. Not mourning.
A rash.
Like a death of a soul is just a passing irritation.
Apply the cream and be done with it.

These statistics, these subjects, these petitions and social experiments
Talk about the cold logic but never the struggling heart.
They never talk about the man, living under the stars,
Who, one day, dreams of going to Spain
To see his sister dance.
There's no thoughts on the woman who was forced to bus to the hospital
after a group of lads thought it funny to set their dog on her,
Causing such serve damage, her leg had to be amputated.
No heart for the countless homeless that went without
After experiencing the hostile, us and them attitude
Directed at them.
'Worship us for we are your saviours!'
Yet countless times, the begging for their voices to be heard were ignored by these 'saviours'
No feelings for the man who lost everything and then everyone
Causing him to disappear into the heart of winter.
His companions, with mounting dread, never found him.
Because the worse thing they feared, had actually happened.

No. Instead we talk about churches
Giving crosses and Bibles
To help pray the way to food and security.
And the kindness of such large charities
That obviously have a right to charge the hungry for meals.
The rash of deaths
How unfortunate it is, that maybe it'll open our eyes.
Or maybe not.
The drugs, the theft, the drink, the bothering of the public.

The truth is,
There's a hundred things I want to say
But a million more things I dont know.
I can only try and paint the picture.
But, there is one thing I do know.
One thing I can say with certainty.
Homelessness isnt a myth.
It is real.
And so are the people.

-Chloe Grey
Untilted
I've wanted to write about homelessness for a while, but every time I tired, it never seemed right.
Today I attended a fundraiser, organised by my friend, for a volunteer group that do everything in their power to help those living rough.
I finally managed to write what I wanted, and I found the courage to read it out to a live audience during a spoken word poetry session.

I do believe there's not enough care and awareness now.
Those that find themselves sleeping on the street, are people. They have families, pasts, old jobs, old loves, hopes, dreams and stories.
So it breaks my heart to see other people abuse them, or take advantage. At one point, a couple of 12 year olds were actually shocked as they thought homelessness was a myth. A story to scare them into doing well at school.

So here it is. I hope you enjoy. Love one another.
Loading...
So, I've listened to a song, came up with an idea and now I'm actually writing a short story. My plan is to write it in three parts. I don't plan to change it but crazier things have happened!
I have no idea when it'll be done. You'll know when I know.

All I know is...it begins.

deviantID

SleeplessSock's Profile Picture
SleeplessSock
Chloe Grey
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United Kingdom
I'm British and I like tea.

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconxelador:
Xelador Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2017  Hobbyist
Thank you for the :+fav:'s/support.
Reply
:iconsleeplesssock:
SleeplessSock Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
It's okay. :) I really love everything you've written. You manage to express so much truth and emotion.
Reply
:iconchriseastmids:
chriseastmids Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
and many thanks again Chloe :glomp:
Reply
:iconsleeplesssock:
SleeplessSock Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Most welcome, I love your work. :)
Reply
:iconchriseastmids:
chriseastmids Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
thank you so very much :D :D
Reply
:iconpencil1:
Pencil1 Featured By Owner Jan 6, 2017  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks for the watch. :)
Reply
:iconsleeplesssock:
SleeplessSock Featured By Owner Jan 7, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome. :)
Reply
:iconblondthecolorist:
BlondTheColorist Featured By Owner Dec 17, 2016  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for watching.
Reply
:iconsleeplesssock:
SleeplessSock Featured By Owner Dec 21, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome! :)
Reply
:iconchriseastmids:
chriseastmids Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2016  Hobbyist Photographer
many thanks for the fave ad :glomp:
Reply
Add a Comment: