Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Artist Don't Tell Anyone Anything.Male/Canada Group :iconredemption-for-teens: Redemption-for-Teens
 
Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 239 Deviations 1,533 Comments 9,017 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
The Winter that Never Leaves
Snowflakes,
the absence of the rain.
No cleansing forgiveness,
to purify me again.
Snowflakes,
they cover all that I love.
Breaking backs and bones,
driving away the doves.
And what if this winter doesn't end?
What if I never shake this pain?
I'm sick of waiting for love to never find me,
I'm sick of the winter that never leaves.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 2 0
Literature
Anchors
Anchors
The anchor holds strong,
Engulfed by the ocean depths
It is a savior
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 2 3
Literature
Girl
I'm tired of their lies,
tired of these unhealthy assumptions
it's a lesson in disguise
political corruption
this world's crying out for change
these girls are crying out in pain
and the cuts on their wrists are just the evidence
that this can't possibly be the way
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 0 0
Literature
As the Blind Man Sees It
There was a time when you said forever,
And forever meant more than a season.
When leaves suspended themselves in a trance,
And your eyes were open.
There was a time when you weren't so tragic,
When loving you was a virtue and no vice,
When good was bad and bad was young and reckless,
When your eyes were open.
But time is no longer still, and it sprints forward towards ends,
Beginnings mean nothing in a race that you can't remember.
Empty is your hourglass
You have no memory of the seasons we spent together,
Tell me my love,
Can you see what I see?
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 6 2
Literature
Lost in the Music
My guitar and I resonating sounds so beautiful,
for young ears and old thoughts to be united by.
Words inspired by the darkest of moments,
arranged to inspire moments to become yesterdays.
This sound is the ever-dying therapy,
the unexplained phenomenon becoming part of me.
I can't describe the charts or the sound of the radio,
but someday you'll hear the truth coming through stereo.
So turn up the volume on this revolution,
purpose and connection between the fan and the artist.
Without memories this music would not be,
and without this music the memories would persist.
The music is what makes lonely nights so personal,
and the music is what makes personal moments less lonely.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 3 2
Literature
My Concious Worry
Anxiety, love.
It's a vice, but one that I can't cure.
I worry, hun.
That one day I'll be dying with regrets.
If I close my eyes,
and open them.
Will I be looking at my deathbed?
If I whisper,
to quiet for you to hear,
will I die with those whispers in my head?
It's insane, and I know it.
Insane, it's showing.
These worries, growing.
and one day I'll die with my many regrets.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 2 0
dA ID :iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 1 10
Literature
Cold Hearted
There was a day, a long time ago, that I was popular, loved and thrived on the attention that I got. There was a time that I was like everyone else. There was a time that I believed in love, and let myself fall full heartedly in love with a maiden I met. But like everyone else I fell into a self-repeating cliché. That's what's wrong with today's society: the amount of broken hearts walking around in corpses. Alcohol, drugs, and paid for lovers are solutions best served to cold veins, and darling my veins are like ice in December. My skin will feel like freshly fallen snow to your eyes but will feel like a blizzard to your skin. That's the danger of being too close to me, the frostbite on your fingers from trying to take my heart. My lips are the greatest liars you'll ever kiss, and my mouth is the most truthful son of a bitch to walk on the planet. It's a paradox, and I know it, and thus insanity is all that I dream about. You think that's hard on the body? Try having no one to ev
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 3 6
Literature
The Reaper
So full of twisted deceit;
the nights are now cold and dim.
Full of infectious disease,
and tricks up the sleeve of his skin.
With eyes like the eclipse,
and a castle made out of the ocean's sand,
his truth is disguised by silence,
and closed doors hide the work of his hand.
Trickery and treachery are his virtue;
absent of guilt, pain, or vice.
With the tongue of his brother the devil,
A fork sharpened to feel like a knife.
He lures with speeches and promise,
and uses vice to weaken us foe.
We all dream of the day that we're taken,
and all pray to avoid where he'll go.
Every day the Reaper is there.
Every day I pass by the Reaper.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 2 5
Literature
Those Without Faces
If our eyes tell our secrets,
And our lips spread our lies,
What then is honesty,
but the truth in disguise?
If our hearts bleed out pain,
And our hands pump in drugs,
What are pills and needles,
But something never enough?
If power is control,
and weakness is defeat,
what is society,
but never ending retreat?
And if we are so mighty,
Why then do we all fall?
Victim to innocence,
We create and lose all.
We are the society of uncertainty and deceit,
Those without faces or hearts to wash us clean.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 6 2
Literature
Beginning of the Finish Line
The Beginning of the Finish Line Never Seemed So Close
Is this a darkened day, or are my eyes seeing in black and white?
Bad luck seems to follow me, darling.
Smile that beautiful smile, because each day brings you closer to getting away.
No four leaf clover in the world could keep you safe if you chose to stay.
I know you think that this is all you've ever known,
But there lies all that you have yet to learn.
Consider us your vanquished foes, your stepping stones,
All leading you towards the place you've been going all along.
Shine on in the shade,
Don't let that smile fade.
Hold true and stand strong, the world will only try and knock you down.
Believe in your beliefs,
Stand awed by the changing leaves,
Understand that this is not the end, and learn how to once again begin.
Can you believe that this is where things have ended up?
This world is a twisted world, my dear.
Seams are torn apart by each twist and turn locked into this road we travel.
Drive on into the world without me,
You
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 4 6
Literature
My Abandonment
Alas, dearest Alexandria
My confidence has been constructed by the master architect.
A tower of heights allows me to take a leap as such,
God knows if I'll be back to see you soon.
What sorrow lies upon thy face?
Grey skies may match the gloom that I see in your eyes.
Blue is but absent in gazes as painful as the needles you use,
For colour is redundant in the face of disbelief.
I must admit that in my moment of courage,
Your face is not all that I keep in mind.
Under an umbrella you stand in the rain and tears,
While under nature I gaze upon my father's work with a smile.
It's the difference between you and me, Alexandria.
One which I hope that gentle face sees before scarred.
If you see not the patterns of the waves,
Then surely you are too blind to see the expressions of my solemn face.
Cast not away the memories of me,
For such misery is not a necessity on this night.
Think of this not as sorrow but as joy,
Place a smile on that face; tonight I leave with our problems on my boat.
I
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 3 4
Literature
Cemetery of the Lovely
Keep an eye open for me at the end of your walk,
For my gravestone lays at the end of the path you tread.
I can hear your footsteps from here through the concrete slabs,
For no foot is placed as lightly upon earth as that of an angel.
As you walk through trees and shrubs of wicked and blood,
Remember the sacrifices that were made along the way.
Remember the comfort that you once felt in my arms;
The sincerity that I spoke to you in your dreams.
I was everything that you walked towards in your life,
And in death I still possess your many thoughts.
Haunting your every move and every action,
For pleasant dreams are susceptible to misery's company.
Upon fallen darkness keep your blind eyes open,
For the chance to hear the truth from behind your own lips.
Contradict what your conscious keeps, to it, substantial.
And build up an army based on false pretence.
A subconscious war between every angle and every possibility,
It's almost as though you walk towards aimlessness in its whole.
At the e
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 3 20
Literature
Roses at your Gravestone
Look at the pretty grave stone.
Laying still in the pouring rain.
Your name looks so filled with life,
stretching carved from side to side.
I stand here with a black rose bouquet in my hand,
ready to throw it to your feet.
Six feet underneath the earth I stand upon,
how do they smell, my dear?
Roses would be so beautiful,
if you were here to dance with me,
in the rain the way we used to.
but there's no going back from here.
If I could bring you back up to sea level to be with me,
I would have gone to all ends and alchemy.
Any magic trick or prayer that I could pray,
it all would have escaped my lips long ago.
But this is how we'll spend forever,
six feet apart on this night.
The roses will lay at your feet to die,
and I'll leave knowing that I could have never left your side.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 3 0
Literature
Your Night to Remember
Take a look at the constalations,
dance around below the stars.
Lose yourself to the mind of a child,
dream big or it's time to go home.
The daylight will come again,
as it always has before.
The real world is calling you back,
Sunrise will mark the end.
So this night is all you have,
the beautiful stillness in the air.
This will be everything you remember,
the only thing you don't want to forget.
The world is a dark place,
far more dark than a night like this.
Picture no more moon and no more stars,
and your imagined hell is still so very far.
Enjoy the dark before the dawn,
and let your imagination run wild with exploration.
Go to the ends of the earth within your mind,
don't let reality stop you this time.
The sun consumes the moon,
sunrise breaks the stillness in the air.
Buisness men and women are walking to their cars,
it's just another nine-to-five.
They don't know what you have done,
or what your dreams truly are.
Your aspirations to them are nothing,
but they're imortalized by
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 2 11
Literature
Murderer's Motive
The pain of a fantasy,
Meets the taste of broken revenge.
My eyes set on her silhouette,
And my blade shall rest on his.
I'll strike more quickly than expected,
And catch him off of his guard.
She'll stand there in a shadowed horror,
As her lover is torn to bits.
My anger has reached a break,
And now she cries on the line to forever.
Out of her control, with so much she couldn't do,
And still her blame falls inward--not out.
There is nothing she would not give,
To go back in time and re-think.
Though she knows that she could not know,
What life had been planning to do.
Like a nightmare she is consumed,
Running in place to anywhere but here.
Her eyes close and she sees the man that she loved,
The man that she loved was me;
My suicide was only in my dreams,
And now dreams reach the realm of reality.
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:numericvalueofaheart 1 2

Random Favourites

Flying heart :iconalexandrasophie:AlexandraSophie 270 41 Paris. :iconsharynecka:sharynecka 137 9 i'm playing lights :iconedaemirdag:edaemirdag 378 0 Records of past ages... :iconsuzythebutcher:SuzyTheButcher 553 47 Roses d'hiver :iconwildrainoficeandfire:WildRainOfIceAndFire 2,127 401 Hannibal :iconshizofreniya:Shizofreniya 3,737 334 Rainbow of life :iconzardo:zardo 541 50 On A Cool Morning :iconderekdd:DerekDD 61 20 STOP Nationalism :iconxsinfultemptations:xSinfulTemptations 80 348 Strawberry :iconsnock7:Snock7 93 33
Literature
My Immortal
The shadow of who he used to be
Still lingers; a ghost in the night
swaying in a dance of memory
Of hours past that I held dear
Conducted by the scented candles
With his name carved into their waxen flesh.
Whispers of a life that inspired my dreams
Echoes of a heartbeat so pure, so true.
A silhouette of love that breathes only in darkness
In the slumberless void of my solitude.
I watch him weaving through my thoughts
Numberless sighs escape my lips
And my arms reach -hopeless- to pull him near
Only to embrace my wretched self in the dark.
I know him only when I am alone.
I keep him safe, untouched in my heart
The portraits I paint are dated two years
Of a man whose eyes sang lullabies
Whose pride was love, whose pain was loss
A man that taught me ultimate devotion.
His shadow beckons when the clock strikes three
And I follow him into the night
We stand again beneath the stars
His outline deep, kissed with moonlight
The rain gently begins to fall
And all his words my ears recall
And the
:iconAkhenaten-Aten:Akhenaten-Aten
:iconakhenaten-aten:Akhenaten-Aten 16 17
Literature
The Swan
He lied to both of them and said that everything was fine.
She took shards of glass from the broken mirror and smiled that she had seven years of bad luck. Maybe she would believe such superstitions in a different time and place. Blood trickled down from her hand and into the drain. Swirling, angry red curls always shifting. Vanishing like her breath once it left her lungs. All was silent in the bathroom.
If she was already dying, then one little cut wouldn't hurt.
Once many years ago she had seen a swan drifting atop the surface of the pond. No birds had ever come to that pond in late fall, and only mallards in the summer. They would always wail and fill the air with the fluttering sound of feathers. She looked out at the pond that night and saw the bird in the moonlight. Its feathers were the color of that orb in the sky, graceful neck circling a mystery. The water was still and white flakes floated down. She had never seen a swan and doubted she'd see another.
She remembered the bir
:iconHakyness3876:Hakyness3876
:iconhakyness3876:Hakyness3876 35 67
shadows :iconantzuu:antzuu 126 34 Emo Love Kitty :icongreen4gfx:green4gfx 391 46 Big ears league :iconwoxys:woxys 1,301 103 Just a dream :iconzardo:zardo 991 81

Activity


Our debut EP is finally completed!

Check it out:

thisharbour.bandcamp.com/album/the-voyage

I think you guys will REALLY enjoy it so please take ten minutes and give it a bit of a listen.

If you like it please share it with your friends as well!

facebook.com/thisharbour <--- official facebook page for my band.

Thank you so much. <3

deviantID

numericvalueofaheart
Don&#039;t Tell Anyone Anything.
Artist
Canada
Welcome to my profile. I'm "NumericValueOfAHeart" and I am an artist like you. I'm glad that you've taken the time to find your way here, and I'm sure that there's at least a couple pieces of my art that you will enjoy. I'm most known for my poetry, though if I get my hands on a camera you may see some pictures get posted. I believe strongly in expressing yourself and writing down emotions. I write a lot of hatred into my work but in reality I am just longing for more love in this world. I truly believe that that's what the world lacks, love. Please, leave me a comment or something and I promise I'll comment back.
----------

Art is expression;
Expression is not caring about what others think about you.
Art is a savior;
A savior is something that, no matter how tough times get, will always be there.
Art is a vent;
A vent is something that saves your life when punching things and screaming into a pillow just isn't good enough for the pain.
Art is opinion,
Opinion is something that no matter what shouldn't change.
Art is love and hate,
The two emotions behind every single thing in this world.
Art is enjoyment,
Enjoyment is living every second until it's fulfilled.
Art is life.
Art is beauty.
Art is Deviant.

Now on twitter:
www.twitter.com/numericvalue

Now on myspace:
www.myspace.com/thepriceofthis…

Favourite genre of music: Punk/Acoustic/Posthardcore
Favourite photographer: Sean Israelson (thisisoneaday.blogspot.com)
Operating System: Windows Vista
Personal Quote: "But I have promises I have to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. Miles to go before I sleep
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconblindsubtleties:
blindSubtleties Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2013
The EP = Amazing..
Reply
:iconfayetteaethelwyne:
FayetteAethelwyne Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2011
Hey, it's Katie... Lol I didn't know you had adevart account. Followingggg
Reply
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:
:) Hey! Thanks! I'll return the fave then <3
Reply
:iconakhenaten-aten:
Akhenaten-Aten Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2011
Happy Valentine's Day Nathan, I hope you are ok. Miss you xxx :hug:
Reply
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:
numericvalueofaheart Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2011
heyy.. I've just been super busy.. You should email me sometimes.. you have my email :) I kinda quit checking onto DevArt now that i work on music so much..
Reply
:iconmaygin26:
MayGin26 Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2011
hi lol
Reply
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:
Heyy:P
Reply
:iconakhenaten-aten:
Akhenaten-Aten Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2011
I hope you are ok Nathan :hug: :rose:
Reply
:iconnumericvalueofaheart:
Heyy<3 I'm alright. aha, for the longest time i wished i could just have girls, without the emotions, now i have that, and i wish for the emotions. I know its cliche, but, physicallity can't fill a heart. But, i've written a lot of good music lately. I'll record sometime, better than the vids. I hope you are okay, as well. (: , been a long time.
Reply
:iconakhenaten-aten:
Akhenaten-Aten Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2011
I understand. They say that the first time you fall in love, it is the deepest and purest. The moment you are hurt and those illusions are shattered your heart never truly recovers. It seals itself off for the most part. I think it is tragic. If only we were not capable of hurting each other.. imagine what love could be.. for everyone.

Be patient. There is someone that will take the breath right out of you.. and nothing will stop you falling in love with them.. not even past hurt. I promise :)

I am glad to hear of your music. That is exciting news. I am certain it is beautiful! :rose:
Reply
Add a Comment: