ReYo

Death kindly stopped for me.

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I didn't know what to say. by ReYo, literature

Literature

I didn't know what to say.

I didn't know what to say. I never did. Instead of actually saying anything I just sat there, staring at the page in front of me, blank as it ever was, and I started to dream. Dreaming of words that fill the air with meaning, dreaming of images appealing, and thinking of those who seem to exist only for those around them to reach the uncomfortable conclusion. I'll never have them, they think, they say, they tell their friends. But I won't give up easily. This person, the beautiful, custom-built love of my future, simply sits and dreams along with me, only... fifty feet away. Any advice, my inner-peace-loving friend? Or am I to

What are you telling me Emily, by ReYo, literature

Literature

What are you telling me Emily,

What is it you're telling me Emily, what are you saying? Why does the fellow entice you so, as he slips between blades and slides over the dirt? I haven't met Him - maybe I just have not dirtied my feet as I should have, running loose over the lawn or behind the Bog, or maybe He was too shy to introduce himself to me... Is He shy, Emily? Is He afraid of me? Or have I just not come to the right locale, should I go to Him? What can He teach me, Emily? Can he teach me anything?

Homeless by ReYo, literature

Literature

Homeless

While Kenneth followed the beaten path he came across a young man, sitting alone on a crumbling, partially-rotted bench surrounded by loose brown dirt and tall, thin trees, half of which were a dried-out brown with few (if any) branches reaching from the trunk. The young man (Kenneth assumed he was probably ten, twelve years old) had his legs folded over each other, each foot resting on the opposite knee, his dark blonde hair dirty and wild, his clothes torn in some scattered places and mud splashed over others. The young man, the boy, was smiling, his bright blue eyes squinted straight ahead, looking to be locked on something in the distan

Untitled August project 1 by ReYo, literature

Literature

Untitled August project 1

"Wh3r3 j00 h1d1n6?" The girl dressed in the blue sash was standing on the opening of the vast arena, trying to take in every little crevice that could be seen from her view on top of the tall mountain ledge. The compound behind her was solid, carved out of thick steel to make the thing as structurally sounds as possible, as well as being a building that struck fear into whoever caught it out of the corner of their eye, mostly because of its grime look and scorch marks where it take taken point-blank shots from rocket launchers and machine gun fire alike and never showed the slightest dent. Turrets stood up from the squat compound cent

Death by ReYo, literature

Literature

Death

"Little punk, what're YOU gonna do?" The boy looked down to the ground and shook his head, then kicked his view back up to the speaker with a smirk, his eyes narrowed in a strange glare. With a level voice, he spoke: "I'm going to kill you." The man looked the boy over, and started to laugh. He was not visually intimidating; 5'6", skin-and-bones build, big blue eyes that could almost pass for a Japanese anime character come to living breathing life... he looked like he'd be more suited to talk about which Star Trek captain was strongest (or "got more chicks") than be involved in any physical confrontation. "You're...

:untitled story: - Prologue by ReYo, literature

Literature

:untitled story: - Prologue

"Geez, this happens every time," I whispered to myself as I sat staring at the laptop screen. "I just... geh." I sat back, hoping the inspiration would just come to me like moths enjoying gathering around my house's porch light some summer night. It had been a year since I finished my first novel, and since then I had done nothing to it or for it. No follow-up. No clean up of the first draft. Absolutely nothing, and it drove me crazy. The lack of inspiration to continue on with the story had totally vanished when my best friend Katie told me her thoughts on it, but even so, I felt I had nowhere to go. I sagged in the chair f

A Life Forgotten (beginning) by ReYo, literature

Literature

A Life Forgotten (beginning)

I sat up in the bed, looking around the room I was in, and took a look around, feeling the pounding of my temples behind my eyes. There were posters plastered on the walls in what was obviously the bedroom of a young woman, covering only a select area of the musical spectrum; The Backstreet Boys, the members of N*Sync, Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, placed over each other in a large collage, covering the entire wall. I stood up from the bed and took a peek in through the closets' left door, taking a step back as I looked in and felt my eyes start to burn from the plethora of bright pink that met my eye. I looked away quickly, the color just

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This Night the Deus is Winking by ReYo, literature

Literature

This Night the Deus is Winking

The moon, La Luna, the Eye of God, The Deus, watching over us while we sleep. This night, the Deus is winking, Possibly a sign to us that He or She Still cares, still watches, still loves, Even those who do not believe. I do not believe. The Earthen shadow cast over our celestial friend, The Angels, the stars, always blinking, Always watching our loves and our selves As we lay, as we dream, Comforted by their bright gaze. The beautiful gray Eye, watching, always watching, Watching since before our time and will after us, Always watching, Always waiting, Winking for us.

One day, and most EVERY day... by ReYo, literature

Literature

One day, and most EVERY day...

One day, and most EVERY day, I walked through the playground yard Looking for a friend or acquaintance to play with. Across the green field and the black-topped courts I found myself lost without a buddy. My blue eyes darted around for someone to play with, But I came up empty. Everyone already had a playmate. Everything in the bag that held the toys was taken, Not even a single Spalding left flat in the bottom. I guess I missed out on the rush. Everyone was with someone, and I was left to myself. Being by myself should be expected, I guess. I'm not the most fun to play with. After all, I am the one who spoils all the fun. For I

Suspect by ReYo, literature

Literature

Suspect

I was sitting in the cold metal folding chair, watching the two men talk over me. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong; Why wouldn't they believe me? All they had was that she was dead, and that I knew her, they couldn't have had anything more than that, yet here I sat, and have sat for what had to be six hours already, waiting for them to let me go. "Why did you kill her?" the man demanded again, moving the high light bulb back into my retina for what had to be the ninth time. "I didn't!" I squealed. "She was dead when I found her! I didn't do anything wrong!" My face was stained with tears, I could feel them sticking to my cheeks. I

Sitting alone in a cafe by ReYo, literature

Literature

Sitting alone in a cafe

Sitting alone in a café with my instrument of choice, I pound out word after word with fluid ease, my words separating from my fingers like my eggs from every bite, bacon sitting side by side like fellow passengers on their way to my mouth, my French toast piping hot and warming my belly, slathered in sunny, melted butter, the egg edges tasting more full of flavor with every bite. The milk alongside the meal acting as moderator when the others get out of hand, calming the stomach with a coolness not to be found on a plate, the salt and pepper peppering the meal like a shred of doubt in my mind as I type, alone in a café, the on

Various 6 by ReYo, literature

Literature

Various 6

As I stare out beyond the concrete, spotted with fellow travelers, I find myself drawn to the sight of a sea of stars, stretched out before my headlights, the only thing helping me to separate the earth and the heavens. My radio splashing Zeppelin tunes, I swim upstream quickly back to my starting point, my little piece of island I call home, at the end of this long canal of darkness and road markers. The only thing directing my way to my destination is Tara's star, flying above me, her angel wings beating quietly against the ink-black backdrop of the sky above me. Between my stony path and Tara's star, between Luna and Earth, b

Inner Monologue of... by ReYo, literature

Literature

Inner Monologue of...

My reddened palms from the work are burning As I search for the instant of my life that tells me That I'm better than this. That single, precise moment where I find the power To tough through the monotony and escape the meaninglessness That keeps me here. To find the energy to prevail and escape the history Of weakness that my guiding light has shed On my muddy future. My destiny is non-existent; my escape, imminent; And the cobalt blue of the skies ahead Will save my soul.

I thought... I tried... by ReYo, literature

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I didn't know what to say. by ReYo, literature

Literature

I didn't know what to say.

ReYo

About ReYo

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Artist // Professional // Literature

United States
Deviant for 19 years
www.thetallereight.com

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My Bio

I write. It's what I am, it's who I do.

...

That... that didn't come out quite right.

Favourite Books

Battle Royale, Join Me, Blue Jean Buddha

Favourite Gaming Platform

Any that play games

Tools of the Trade

MacBook, ultra-fine-tipped pens, notepad apps on an Android smartphone

Other Interests

Stand-up comedy, air guitar

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ReYo

Jan 13, 2015

I always forget this is here. Mrrgh. I'm at TheTallerEight.com now, so there's that. Beyond that, how're you?

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ReYo

Aug 28, 2012

Huh.

0 min read

Whodathunk.  I totally forget I even HAD this account, let alone added any new material to it. In case anyone following me even still has an account, let me bring the world up to speed.  I've turned 28 years old, still write poetry (more so recently, now that I'm unemployed work has time to be written), write video game reviews and articles for fun and profit, come out of the closet... yeah, a lot of what I was when I first started writing here at all has changed, and significantly.  It's surprising to look back on this and remember that I would toil and try to be profound and things of that nature, now that I've put a few additional years o

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ReYo

Dec 9, 2007

November Has Come And Gone...

0 min read

And with it, I have written a new novel. National Novel Writing Month is a passion of mine, and this year marks the second time that I've completed the task of writing a full 50,000-word story inside of thirty days, and thereby I can say, once again, that I actually am a novelist.  And when I finally get around to fully editing the thing, I'll be doing what I can to get people to read it and, potentially, show it to an editor and see what I can do with the thing. I'm proud of this one, I honestly think it's turned out fairly well. ^_^ Beware everybody, the war is coming...

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Profile Comments 139

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burrrrrrp

Ugh, I forgot I even HAD this account. :-P

NovemberCosplay

Oct 30, 2009

Hey Kevin. Long time no see. How's it going? I just found you on Nicole's friend list.

~Carla

ReYo

Jan 12, 2010

Heya! I don't really post on here much, haven't had any serious poetry or short-ish fiction to fill in anywhere. Overall though I'm doing alright, how be you are?

NovemberCosplay

Jan 18, 2010

Cool cool, I'm good thanks

Love you dood

yeah!!!! i found you!!! you're it!!!