StArMigEt

59 Watchers108 Deviations

7.7K

Pageviews

Latest Deviations

See all

Something To Believe In by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Something To Believe In

I want a strong man. Not just physically strong, though that is important, but also strong in his mind. One with opinions and convictions. One with whom, even though I may not agree, I respect. I want a man who can own me. Grab me, hurt me, break me, and put me back together; a complete transformation. I want his hands to squeeze the air, and life, out of me and give it back more beautiful than ever before. I want a man who can fill me up. Every space, every lonely corner, satisfied. One who relieves my aching body and replaces my pain with exhaustion and peaceful slumber. Free from the shadows that lurk, waiting for my lids

Sex Pixie by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Sex Pixie

"I want to loose myself in a man." The man looked up from his coffee to gaze at his companion with interest. "Do explain," he prompted, smiling a simple smile of knowing. His petite partner smiled back, more mischievous and serious at the same time then he thought someone could ever be. "I want to go to bed and never have to leave. To have all the time in the world to spend in between those sheets with my beloved. Exploring every surface, every position, and every feeling possible, that adds to the bliss I find there. When we have found the knowledge of ourselves and each other complete I would like to move to the floor

Medicine Woman by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Medicine Woman

Surprised aren't you? Didn't expect your sweet, caring, loving little hippy girl to go rabid did you? Didn't expect me to show up, whiskey on my breath, done with you and every other stupid mother fucker who wanted to mess around now did you? What's the matter? Did I scare you? What's wrong? Didn't think I was fucking psycho did you? What's wrong? Does blood scare you? Are you afraid for me or you? Please be clear here, my giveafuck is breaking. You weren't expecting this, sorry. Right out of Left field, here's a riddle. When did you ever think that you had the power

He Says He Loves Me by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

He Says He Loves Me

Does he love me? He says he does. He says I am beautiful. The most attractive woman he knows. Not just because of my "amazing sexiness" but also because "there just aren't girls like me." He fills my hair with soft kisses that make me sigh and gives me sweet flowers to adorn my hair. He tells me I'm special. Unique, away from everyone else. An individual who meshes with him so completely that he finely feels happy; understood. He whispers promises. "No matter what, no matter when, anytime, anywhere, what ever you need, I will be there. Said. Final." He tempts me to believe. We talk to hours on end. So

When You Wish For A Boyfriend by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

When You Wish For A Boyfriend

I needed a boy friend. One who is was strong and rough. One who didn't care accept to know that I was the bitch and that's how it would stay. One who was so intensely manly that even the strongest of men would be scared. I needed a boy fried, then along came Cecil. She was the manliest man I had ever met. As you must have guessed, Cecil is a woman. But for all intensive purposes, she is also man. Cecil is perfect for me. She is six feet tall with a blond crew cut and blue eyes. Her girth is muscle and fat but she's tough enough that it doesn't matter. Her hands are rough and full of callouses. She has two snake bite piercings

I Want To Be Good by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

I Want To Be Good

'I want to be good.' Her eyes travel hungrily over the faces and bodies that sway before her, prey for the taking. 'I want to be good.' Her taste buds are pricked by saliva as she quivers, remaining in control, aching to be relived. 'I want to be good.' Her mind, sharp with interest, goes through the scenarios. Pros, cons, pros, cons. 'I want to be good.' She tastes red lipstick and hot blood as she bites her lip; resisting Pandora's Box. 'I want to be good.' Purely predator, she shrinks back into the shadows. Passers by are trusting, unaware of the danger. 'I want to be good.' Temptation wheedles and nags,

The Bee Keeper by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

The Bee Keeper

She keeps bees. Her hair is as golden as the sweet nectar her company cultivates in their brief, frantic lives. She has laughing red apple lips that taste like heaven and sting with a bitter-sweet, blissful pain. She is scattered and willy nilly, like a wind caught leaf, dancing and spinning on invisible tides. She enters and exits conversations quickly, so as not to linger. Only enough time for a taste, a tease of company, until she buzzes off again; forever hurried. She weaves intricate structures of paper thin memories. Fragile like honey comb and thick with depth, she fills her gaps and spaces with imaginary pleasantries

Disguise by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Disguise

Here she comes. The perfect scene of posy entwined hair and the sweet smells of spring. Dancing, spinning, all tiny bells and angel smiles; she draws you. Magnetic, irresistible, her cherry red kiss, her intoxicating movements like poetry; she moves you. Her's are the lines on which you choose your map to be drawn. Like a navigator, she guides you. Follow, follow. Follow the music of the piper. Hear? Do you hear the sweet ringing? Her eyes sparkle. Diamonds, bathed in sunlight, and tantalizing whispers that promise pleasure; she entices you. Addicting perfection in every touch she leads you to the al

A Certain Type of Crappy Guy by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

A Certain Type of Crappy Guy

So I have been spending some time doing some dangerous things. One of these things is thinking. I think that, at the end of the day when all is said and done, I am lying. The things I want, the things I tell myself I want, I don't. When it comes down to it, when I get the things I've been dreaming of, I realize I was lying to myself the whole way. The lovely things that should make me happy, just don't. Now I know what you're thinking. Yeah of course just another soul seeking, life confusing question that you will be chasing till the end of your days. Well perhaps your right, but by God I'll give it a run for it's money. See I

Common Ground by StArMigEt, literature

See All

Featured Gallery

See all

Something To Believe In by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Something To Believe In

Sex Pixie by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Sex Pixie

Medicine Woman by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Medicine Woman

He Says He Loves Me by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

He Says He Loves Me

When You Wish For A Boyfriend by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

When You Wish For A Boyfriend

I Want To Be Good by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

I Want To Be Good

The Bee Keeper by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

The Bee Keeper

Disguise by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

Disguise

A Certain Type of Crappy Guy by StArMigEt, literature

Literature

A Certain Type of Crappy Guy

Common Ground by StArMigEt, literature

Watchers 59

See all

Serifer

Alexlittleartist

adamswondergarden

ReverseImaku

EvaniSaransari

CloudNumber8

EternalSunday

theshadowkissedgirl

KelaLewis-Morin

FrankRosko

CatsCrown

Bandaloop-searcher

Watching 36

See all

Tangled-Tales

Everything-is-Wanted

Tower-Artists

Love-Literature

theshadowkissedgirl

KarlWhoo

Dasb89

kamcalste

ThermadorianGrey

thelifeofwords

biochase

alexmanterCo

OfftheWallArtists

Poets-and-Warriors

DottieOnTheMoon

Collection

Favourites

See all

Sheets by Tangled-Tales, literature

Literature

Sheets

“I adore you,” she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed. And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters, long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick, and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes, for he loved the way it looked. “I misspoke,” she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed. And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes, untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips, and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase, for who cares if he used to love the way it looked. She whispered to empty sh

Grow a Garden by Tangled-Tales, literature

Literature

Grow a Garden

Her father gave her a pack of seeds, and told her to grow a garden, for flowers could teach her about life Sitting cross-legged, the dewy, viridian grass itching at her ankles, she took her freshly-sharpened trowel, and dug deep into the sodden dirt Her lungs inhaled the musky scent, as butterflies beat softly around her décolletage And she promised herself, she'd give a flower to her favorite boy For months and months, she waited for the flowers to grow And as she waited, to no avail, the blue-eyed boy that made her lungs fill with salty water, and made the butterflies cage inside her stomach, only gave flowers to other girls So s

Dom Perignon by ThermadorianGrey, literature

Literature

Dom Perignon

Alone In a monestary In the mountains Of France, The idea struck him like a pebble Might bounce off a bedroom window If that ever actually happened. It became a smooth stone That skipped across his ribs, Rippled his reflection, Cloudied the calm waters in his head. The stone grew into a geode, Cracked open to reveal a crystal Colored like pomegranate, More porous than pumice. Blasphemy, blowing bubbles in the blood of Christ His breath produced a profane foam From which he feared Some pagan sex goddess might be born. Badly shaken, the young monk Put it back in the bottle Stuck a cork in and forgot it. Except in times of celebration Or i

Finding God by EbbaRose, literature

Literature

Finding God

As a young girl I felt at war with God. Daily I would say how dare He. How dare He take my father. How dare He let my mother cry like this. How dare He make me an adult long before I had even tasted the sweet honey nectar that comes with childhood. As I grew I preached to my friends who went to church, who had their blind faith in someone I believed had taken every good opportunity in my life. I taunted them about their God, shoving my unfair hand of life in their face, throwing the question of how can a loving God steal a childhood, a father, a life. I watched their eyes fill with pity. I watched them question their God, knowin

This Is Just A Drill by ThermadorianGrey, literature

Literature

This Is Just A Drill

When I called you a trick, I meant you were magic. Scarves up your sleeves Pigeons in your pants, I saw you in half. I saw you. Now I don’t. We are some escape artists. Handcuffs our canvas. We keep applause in a can. Keep our audience captive, It’s obvious that Some movies you see for the writing, Some for the acting, Some for the air conditioning. I am that last class. That forgettable feel good hit of the summer, That Ebert and Roeper say the end was the best part. I am that book that you don’t buy for its binding The one that isn’t smart furniture. I am no conversation piece. I want you to crease my spine T

Galatea by Dyemelikeasunset, literature

Literature

Galatea

Sometimes, she is my mistress Sneaking in through my window and seducing me out of sleep She keeps me up past sunrise, whispering sweet promises in my ear Silencing me with her smoldering passion, stripping me until inspiration strikes She makes me sing, until the sheets are slathered in a thick skin of poetry Sending shivers up my spine and igniting my senses with her ghostly fingers She is a lover and a shadow, nowhere to be seen when I wake Sometimes, she is my psychosis Suffocating and strong, I can do nothing but submit to her grasp She seethes, like a snake constricting around me until my sight blurs to smoke Slowly, she consum

Inhale, Exhale by kamcalste, literature

Literature

Inhale, Exhale

I bathe in your second-hand smoke as the night greets the dwindling day. Cricket sings his lonely song and I murmur you a lullaby of my day’s events and what tomorrow might bring. The sun touches, then dips below the tips of the mountains. Your fingers trace the curve of my spine. Day shuts her eyes and sleeps. (And I am yours. And you are mine.)

I'm Not the Marrying Kind by UntamedUnwanted, literature

Literature

I'm Not the Marrying Kind

I'm not the marrying kind.  I have stones in my hair instead of flowers, And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.   I'm not the marrying kind.  My words aren't pretty or wise, And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.   I'm not the marrying kind.  I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder, And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.   I'm not the marrying kind.  Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior, And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.   I'm not the marrying kind.R

A Certain Type of Shitty Girl by Bandaloop-searcher, literature

Deviation Spotlight

One Day Of Peace by StArMigEt, visual art

One Day Of Peace

StArMigEt

Deviation Spotlight

See Description by StArMigEt, visual art

See Description

StArMigEt

Group Member 6

Group Admin

StArMigEt is not a Group Admin yet

Groups they admin or create will appear here

About StArMigEt

See all

Artist // Hobbyist // Literature

Mar 27
United States
Deviant for 12 years
She / Her

Badges

My Bio

I am a fun, out going individual who loves music, art, dance, pottery and any other form of self expression. I write because I love it and it lets people see into my heart with imagination to match. I'm good at talking to people and usually try to be the bright spot in someones day. I like to have fun and do anything that brings me joy, including helping people. I am promoter of peace and love though I am kind of crazy. I love to dance around like and idiot and make people smile. Music is my escape and one of many passions. I sing and play the guitar. I love dark chocolate and that feeling of sinking your toes into the sand at the beach. I like new experiences, cooking good food, and brightening someones day with a smile. Guess that's about it! Peace out (:

Ps. I love feed back and comments so please let me know what you think. I will be happy to return the favor. Thanks

Current Residence: San Andreas Ca.
deviantWEAR sizing preference: small
Favourite genre of music: Another impossible question, I love it all. Rock, rap, regge, folk, dubstep. I can' t pick one.
Favourite cartoon character: Boo Boo from Yogi Bear

Favourite Movies

Buffalo 66 & Moulin Rouge

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

I could never pick just one...

Favourite Writers

Rumi

Favourite Games

Twister

Tools of the Trade

pen and paper

Other Interests

Music, writing, art, singing, dancing, and outdoor adventures

Posts

See all

StArMigEt

Mar 29, 2013

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

First of all..hello everone! I have missed all of your beautiful influences over the past months. I apologize for my absance but it  seems that life decided it was time to kidnap me. One year later here I am. A bit wiser a bit crazier and a bit more broken. I lost my words for a time. Either they were stolen from me or a really am as forgetful as they say. It was been a very lonely existance with out them. Thank-you all who posted birthday wishes. I don't feel older. Just perhaps a bit more tired with an "I feel cheated that time can move so fast" attitude. That being said as a whole I am doing well. I am beginning to relearn my

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

StArMigEt

Feb 7, 2012

Fun Insight

0 min read

1. Grab the nearest book. 2. Open the book to page 123. 3. Find the fifth sentence. 4. Post the text of it and the next 3 sentences on your tales along with these instructions. 5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest. The book nearest me at the moment is Wuthering Heights By Emily Bronte. "The first time she left her chamber was at the commencement of the following March.Mr. Linton had put on her pillow, in the morning, a handful of golden crocuses; her eye, long stranger to any gleam of pleasure, caught them in waking, and shone del