The Good Critic's GuideThe Good Critic's Guide:'I. Introduction: I have noticed that many critics on DA tend to leave rather harsh and sometimes subjective critiques on the pages of the artists being critiqued. Their rationale for doing so is based on the concept that 'we shouldn't molly-coddle each other and instead "tell it like it is"'. However this type of critique reflects poorly on one who is critiquing as opposed to the one who is being critiqued and I will explain why throughout the course of this guide. In essence I hope to use this resource as a way of teaching potential critics how to properly focus their abilities and direct their critiques in a manner that will allow them to be rated as a good critic. Note: Before reading on, take note that this guide is only for literary works as I have no experience judging visual art and therefore cannot create a rating scale for those.II. The Purpose of a Critique: The first question that we must ask ourselves is this: "Why does an individu
Don't Let GoRestrained by insecurity, she is hard to love.Her heart however, hides a passion unknown.An unforeseen utopia, and still so much more.The problem, huge hearts make easy targets.The strategy is simple though, easy to learn.Follow this formula and you'll find your forever.Hold her tight through all of the happy times,and the fighting and the anger, don't let go.If you feel her falling take her hand in yours.When you feel like she is letting go, catch her.Protect her with your arms when she is scared.When she is sad, especially then, don't let go.Don't let her walk away, even if she wants to.Bravery is an act, nobody wants to be alone.It will take work, but the reward is her heart.And she will treasure you, but don't ever let go.
broken dreams and invisible heartstringsEvery morning,she wakes up to ahollow chest & stormy,red rimmed eyes.It's so easy to be in lovewith being in love;swallowing fake truths& sincere lies.But her heart—it forgot how to smiletwo years ago,because no one can tellthe difference betweenimitations & reality."Please,please find me;I'm lost between the cracks ofdying stars."Desperate to breatheyet wondering how it would feelto drown,she's never belongedin this universe.
RelapseIt’s like countingSaturn’s rings,hash marksalong your limbs -remembering a timewhen‘just one more’made you feel better.- & you’re sitting therewondering whyDraco, stuck in limboalways looks like he’sfalling.-dp
Collection of poetic nothings.We were opal Tuesdays,mosaic butterfliestattooed into therose garden curveof my vertebrae,gliding me through this wild youth.But, like Icarus—I was a sky conqueror& these silk wingstouched the sun.-My inhalations are heavy,like the earth he bruisesbeneath his fingertipsas I chase silence."You've got a tonguemade for words." He saysagainst the arrogant thornsof my briar spine."Learn to love yourself."-How do I say I love youwithout saying I love you?"I want to replace my heart with you."-You are spider silk woveninto my harvest moonheartstrings, spiderlimbs traveling this road mapof songbird sin.You are not just in my head now,you are dancing in the lingering starsof my night-witch frame& setting me on fire.-You're not bruised enoughthey said,to write poetry.-Allow these bones to tell your story, Love.
I'm no damsel in distressOnce upon a time(Isn't that how all the stories start?)Well hers was a little different(But I still know it by heart)A beautiful princess(Isn't that who all the stories star?)Well she sure was beautiful(Just not the way they are)They are damsels in distress(Locked away in towers)But no prince came to save her(And she would wait no more hours)She wasn't weak(She stood up tall)She saved herself(And showed them all)She lives on free(Her story remembered to this day)No one had to save her(She found her own way <3)
Red ScreamsSmiling at me, shiny silver teethBegging my wristFor one chasteKiss.Grinning at me, that evil smirkMaking my heart poundGoing berserk.So sharp soGoodI know ICouldAnd really IWouldBecause IShould.Arm’s too full of bloodOf scarsFrom attempts toJoin the stars.Photo album ofRuby caressesMy diary of myCrimson lamentShowing oneStatement;I am stillAlive.
What You WantMaybe you want them to noticeMaybe you want them to seeMaybe you want them to care aboutHow you’re lost and lonely me.Maybe you want them to askMaybe you want them to knowMaybe you want them to care aboutHow your happiness is a show.Maybe you want them to quietMaybe you want them to listenMaybe you want them to care aboutHow your blood does glisten.Maybe you want them to leave youMaybe you want them to dieMaybe you want them to care aboutHow your life’s just a lie.
Life ItselfThe only time I smiled todayWas when I thought of dyingAnd how good I am at lyingEach and every single day.I've got a box of painkillersThey sleep right by my bedFor when all I see is red,They'll numb it into darkest white.I've tried talking to people,But I can't word what I want to sayAnd maybe I like living this way,Knowing that I'll die soon.I know I'm self-destructiveMy crosshatch skin screams itBut inside there's a little bitThat still aches to be saved.I've tried before and I'll try againTo put my worthlessness awayBut fate forced me to stay;Death's a bitch like that.Life makes me want to dieYet it won't let me leaveOr grant me a reprieveFrom that which it's made me hate;Life itself.