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About Literature / Hobbyist Indigo SkyesFemale/United States Group :icontransmetlit: TransmetLit
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Deviant for 7 Years
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I write for the same reason I breathe.


These are amazing. End of story.


Critiquing? Moi? Wonders never cease. Aaand off we go. (I really do hate these star rating things. They're really not quantifiable at a...




You could make everything but me grow and bloom and blossom.
I always loved  things more when they were wounded, dying, dead.
Do you remember, mama?
I would crouch in the dirt with some pitiful wounded creature,
Waiting and watching as it shuddered and squeaked and died.
I buried them with my own hands, mud caking my hands.
There are shadows you never saw in me, mama, but he does.
He reaches for them and they reach for him and I am happy.
When we kiss, I can taste pomegranate on his lips.
It is bitter and red. I could drink and drink forever.
Nothing about him scares me.
I am the only one who can make him stop howling.
He says he hears them all the time - the souls, mama -
But I bring him peace.
Who wouldn't want such power?
I used to bruise like petals as a child, but not anymore.
I am his and he is mine and, mama,
I am finally, finally mine.
I’ll see you come spring.
Dear Maybe-Mama,

I was not a mistake.

It’s strange to think that exactly half of my DNA comes from you, and yet we could pass each other on the street and not even recognize each other.

I’ve never really believed in searching for you, my biological family. I never asked my parents the heartbreaking questions that Hollywood makes small, blue-eyed orphans ask: “Why didn’t my real mother want me?” I’ve never believed in any of that, and I don’t expect that you’d want me to, anyway.

But if we ever did meet, what would we even say to each other? I don’t speak Chinese, and you probably don’t speak English. But, in case you’ve ever wondered about me, here’s a little about myself:

I look different now. When you last saw me, I weighed less than fifteen pounds and could fit inside of a kitchen sink when I needed a bath. But today I am 19 years old and I’m probably taller than you – the nutrition in America is different than in rural China, so I’ve grown like an American girl, not a Chinese one. But our hands and feet are probably the same size. I also have hyper-extended knees and highly-arched feet. Maybe you do, too. I’ve cut off 10 inches of my hair three times since I was 12 years old. Each time it feels so different and strange, yet each time it’s grown back just as long as before. Hair tends to do that, I suppose.

I started dancing as soon as I could walk and I haven’t stopped since. My favorite type of laughter is the type that catches you by surprise and bubbles up like soda. I’ve learned how to cook from YouTube and I like to think I’m becoming pretty good at it. I learned how to bake from my mother and her box of yellowing recipes from her mother. Babies smile when I smile. I can read very fast – I know this because I read “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” in six hours and 26 minutes and even RJ (my neighbor who was accepted to MIT and Harvard), didn’t read it that quickly. I knit scarves for my friends as Christmas gifts.

We know nothing about each other, but I like to think that you’d be happy about the life I have.

If I had stayed there in China, the country that holds 1.357 billion people, if no one had ever wanted me, I would probably be working on a farm. I would be getting ready to marry some nice boy to take care of his nice, aging parents, and I’d have no more than two nice babies with him. Or maybe I’d move to the city and be working in a factory, helping to mass produce capital for America and the rest of the Western World – I’d be another cog amongst the smog and bicycles.

I was not a mistake.

You did not make a mistake.

You may have regretted the one night you gave into a young man with thick dark hair and long eyes, quick, clever hands, and high forehead. Maybe you were 16 and not ready to raise a child, your family was angry with you, and people would have pointed and stared. Or maybe you did marry him and you had a girl-child, but she was not going to be able to take care of you in your old age because she’d be married to a boy and would take care of his parents instead. Or maybe you already had a girl and needed a boy. Or maybe you had two children, but you were scared of what they’d do if they found out you’d kept another baby.

Whether you ever think of me, or whether you have completely forgotten that you carried me inside you for those nine months 19 years ago (or 20, if you believe that life begins at conception), or whether you think of me every day since you last saw me that autumn day in 1995, or whether you died years ago and I never knew, you did not make a mistake.

Maybe-Mama, I just wanted to let you know that I’m happy. I’m so lucky to have the life I have. I’m in college now, studying and making friends and having fun. Hopefully I’ll have a job in four years. My parents love me like good parents do – fiercely, proudly, happily. I have a brother and he is 15 and growing like a birch tree, becoming someone I will always be proud of. I am surrounded by people with kind hearts and warm hugs and big laughs whom I love and who love me. There is someone who wants to marry me someday and spend the rest of their life with me. I could never ask for better than what I’ve been fortunate enough to receive.

If you ever meet me, I hope that you like the person that I am and the person I’m becoming. I hope I’d like you, too.

Someone told me once that I must have lucky stars out there looking out for me. And you know what?

I do. I really do.


Your Maybe-Daughter
American Girl
UPDATE 4/14/15:

I wrote this about a year ago and didn’t really know what to do with it. My first semester in college, I began writing for my school’s newspaper. The Temple News publishes personal essays in the opinion section and I submitted mine. It was featured here (…) and it made my mom (and two aunts of my aunts and a cousin and two of my friends and probably my dad) cry, so I’d call it a success. 

It is near and dear to my heart and I’m proud of it.

UPDATE 7/1/2014:
Holy crap you guys, a second DD! :faint: This community never fails to blow me away.
Huge giant hug to Steph (IrrevocableFate) for suggesting this piece. I love you! :glomp:
Even though this piece is a work in progress, I just want to thank you all so much for all your kind words, critiques, and encouragement. You guys are truly are amazing. :heart:

Alternate title: An Open Letter to My Birth Mother

Questions for critique: 
:bulletblue: This needs more fleshing out, but I'm not sure how to do it yet. 
:bulletblue: The closing seems a little clunky. How should I re-word it so it has a bit more grace?
:bulletblue: Does the organization make sense? 
:bulletblue: Honestly, any other constructive criticism is very welcome. 
49 deviations
It has been one year, three months, and twenty-three days since the last time I saw you. I do not remember what it feels like to have your hands on my body. I do not remember what it feels like to not love you. I do not know which scares me more.


When I last left you, autumn was descending on both of our continents, on both sides of our ocean. You cupped my face in your palms and pressed your mouth to mine like a prayer. Or perhaps it was a plea: Please don’t forget me. Please don’t forget this. Please wait for me. Please.
The security guards at the airport, already numb to the tear-stained cheeks of young girls, told me that I must have my hair out of my eyes so the cameras could recognize me.
I blinked and forced the corners of my lips upward. I did my best.


It is Christmastime now. The air is damp and the wind tears through the city. I am warm and safe here, but dreaming only of brimming arrival gates, and cars teeming down the wrong side of the highway, and always your eyes, deep and dear, never looking away from me.


Hold onto me, I want to say. Pull me down from flight like a tether to the earth. Our bodies must slowly reacquaint themselves with each other, but this is one kind of introduction that I don’t mind.

It’s me, I want to say. I’m coming home.
We are wobbling across the ocean,
three hundred bodies of flesh and muscle and bone and breath,
packed into the gut of a rumbling metal beast.
12,000 feet below,
nebulous jellyfish loop past the inky window.
But instead we are wading through the stars,
the Atlantic shivering in the dark.
She is next to me and afraid of death-
intensely fascinated by our ever-present mortality.
The belly of the beast lurches.
Our hands clasp, our hearts drop.
(I don’t even know you, she says.)
Our pulses jump in time.
A yellow light holds steady, perched on the wingtip.
And on a wing and a prayer,
wholly human,
we are making it.


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Hello my dears! 

It has literally been half a year since I've posted a journal! As always, thank you so much for the comments/faves/follows. I'm not really active on here anymore, but I appreciate it all from the bottom of my heart. :heart:

A few current life updates: 
:bulletblue: I'm two days away from finishing my first semester of college. It's been busy and strange and interesting, and I have a feeling next semester will be even busier.
:bulletblue: CHRISTMASTIME. :la:
:bulletblue: I'm headed to England on the 26th for two weeks to see this guy.  

I need to ask a huge favor of those of you who have been following me for a while (or even of those of you who are new): what are your favorite five pieces that I've written? Like, ever. Let me know! 

So, what's going on in your lives? Are you excited for the holidays? Any awesome plans with friends and family? I MISS YOU PEOPLE. :tighthug:

  • Mood: Christmas Spirited
  • Listening to: Christmas playlists
  • Reading: Orange is the New Black by Piper Kerman
  • Watching: Doctor Who season 2
  • Drinking: Water


Indigo Skyes
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I read like an absolute maniac. Music is my oxygen. I'm a hope(less) romantic. I love meeting new people and trying new things because there's just so much in life. I will always and forever be figuring things out and there are some things I'll never figure out, but that's okay. I will dance to any kind of music, with anyone, and anywhere. Even if I don't know the lyrics, I'll try to sing along with them at the top of my lungs. My friends are the most wonderful people in the universe. My family puts up with me like no one else, and I love them for it. I believe in magic, love, the impossible being possible, and that everyone has a skeleton or twelve in their closet.
I don't think that I'd like to be anyone else but me.

I measure life in love.

Current Residence: Somewhere over the rainbow
Personal Quote: "I exist as I am, and that is enough." - Walt Witman

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Sammur-amat Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2015   General Artist
Tag a quality deviant: You’re it! Quality doesn’t mean that you have a lot of followers, or a lot of messages. It means that you’re nice to other people, and you deserve to be happy. If you get this message, someone is telling you that they love you as you are, and they don’t care how much followers you have. Send this to 10 deviants who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen. But it’s just good to let someone know that you love them! Heart
IndigoSkyes Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you, lovely! :hug:
MustafaSEZER Featured By Owner Oct 9, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
:iconbouquetplz: :iconwineplz: :iconcakeplz::iconwineplz::iconbouquetplz:
IndigoSkyes Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you!
MustafaSEZER Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Always best wishes :)
Bambi-Claire Featured By Owner Jul 8, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the fave! :)
Tarzok Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2014
:party: Happy Unbirth day :party:
IndigoSkyes Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Why thank you. (:
iamadem Featured By Owner Jun 26, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
You're very kind for all of those! I'm sorry for being so late, I haven't spent a lot of time here in the past few weeks, or months, or something. :heart:

We must catch up soon! I hope you're well. :)
IndigoSkyes Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're quite welcome!

I'm not on here much anymore either, but I check in every few weeks for various housekeeping things.

I hope you're doing well, too!
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