Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Senior Member Kathryn O'DriscollFemale/Unknown Groups :iconthewriteplace: TheWritePlace
The Right Place for Writers!
Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 1,481 Deviations 60,965 Comments 362,383 Pageviews

Who, me?

Examples from my Gallery

Here are some of the works I've submitted recently that I am particularly proud of or think might be of interest to people trying to work out who I am as a writer.

To see more of my work click here or if you wanna see the ones I like the most click here!

Hearts [B/Blue] by RevPixy

Pain ReliefHe mistook the points of her hipbones for poignancy
and kissed those sharp edges til they dulled under his affections -
he chased the phantoms from the wide-set corners
of a mind that bent, bowed and broke in the curvature.
He mistook her needs for her need and tried to save her
meanwhile, flourishing under his patient gaze
but completely and wholly separate from it; she got better.
He wasn't the remedy for her recovery, just a damn good
pain relief.
The GardeniasI told you I had wildflowers growing in my veins
and you thought it was quaint,
so when I took shears to my jugular -
you wouldn’t help me cut them out.
You thought I’d be opheliac
if they bloomed, splashing white
into my already paling wrists.
Maybe you thought the perfume would purify me
and being a tragic heroine
would be better than just being tragic.
Their roots choked out my heart and
       the landslides
           soil in
                 to my blood
  stream so
as I died,
drowning in the after-effects of Pretty
all I could hear
was you telling me that you loved
that I had Gardenias in my eyes.

Too LateThe moon has hung itself in our sky
and as its face whitens with its strangulation
we exclaim at its brightness
                                                      too late.
We place our wreathes in the darkness,
the shadow lengthened by its absence,
and we talk of its smile lighting up its face.
We in the dark, miss our two-faced tidal moon.
We in the dark, whisper our wonderings
"How could it not hear when we told it we loved it?"
We sit endrenched with the bleakness
stuffing itself into our eyeholes, our mouth gaps,
it presses in on us and we see the galaxy
through the eyes of a lonely satellite;
isolated, a prisoner of the infinite black.
We in the dark, understand the dark ourselves-
Buzz WordsYou’re tinnitus.
I wake up and you’re in my ears.
You’re ringing alarm through to my crackling nerve endings in my cracking skin.
You’re making it hard to focus;
                     I shake
                              I shake my head
                   wait, what?
you’re buzzing til my skin prickles under the vibration of it.
you’re humming in my heartbeat,beat,beat-buzz
you’re buzz-
        I shake my head, what?
Wait - you’re tinnitus
I can’t concentrate, you never leave me enough space to think!
My heads full of half-dead flies, collecting on the roof
of my mouth and humming down my throat

In The StarsIn the stab of the night,
when there is no moon
or modern light to guide you -
there will be stars.
They will burn themselves out
with the vehemence with which
they shine for you.
They will desperately radiate
their message to you
across lightyears of dead air,
they are full with it.
They are children
holding their breath
until you beg them to stop.
They are waiting for you
to be ready to hear them.
In the ache of the night,
when there are no whispers
or echoes to guide you -
there will be stars;
and those stars will be couriers
baring these words to you
emblazoned with their royal seal.
They will be eternally pressed
in the spaces between space
and space.
Somehow in the cracks
of infinite nothingness
you will find my words.
Wedged behind a stereo
until you think to move it.
They are waiting for you
to be ready to feel them.
In the grimace of the night,
when there are no tears
or smiles to guide you -
there will be stars.
They will be distant eyes
full of my love for you
that will watc
The Laws of AttractionHe likes to tell me how stars work.
He explains that Hydrogen ignites, collides, infuses -
and while he’s talking I am trying
to stifle the reverb in my heartbeat.
I try and stop my heart going supernova.
He tells me that the Hydrogen fuses into Helium
and eventually the star runs out of each -
I try not to be forcibly reminded
of every time I run out of Oxygen when he smiles at me -
I’m trying to listen.
He details how the stars elements burn out
one by one
creating heavier elements that burn less brightly.
I’m comparing stars to love
and smiling
because to me, Hydrogen, Nitrogen or Iron -
a star’s still a star at all its stages
and I love the stars.
He whispers to me
about how these elements disperse
how they reform and relapse
and I recall how stars become everything
He’s got his hands in my hair and his grip round my heart
so when the silence falls I can’t help but rush;
‘There’s static energy in my

SolitaryTrigger warning: Discussion of sanity and suicide.
The plan had been so simple. Thirty six hours in solitary confinement, Meredith was struggling. Last week this had all seemed so simple. So obvious. It seemed like she had devised the perfect escape plan. Things weren't working out as intended.
Firstly, and above all else - even breathing or thinking - there was the thirst. Her throat roared with it and she could feel its acidic anger snarl its way up and down her throat with each breath. She'd imagined discomfort, but not pain. She was starting to reconsider.
Her tongue was sore. The slab of meat in her mouth felt like unswallowed food as it got drier, and the taste when she could summon enough saliva to swallow was rancid, and reminded her of her ex boyfriends unwanted dry probings. In a desperate bid for freedom a few hours ago she had tried biting through her tongue, people did it in prison so she knew it was possible, but the pain was too sharp to work through and she didn'
The DancerHear me read it
The night I met Jessie she was beautiful. She swayed to the almost intolerably loud music as if her bones were made of it. She was something unknown. I remember the sharp cut of her hair had run across her cheek, parallel to her carved-out cheekbone. It looked like a wig, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch her, and see if she felt like plastic. Who could ever believe that someone so perfect could be so real. I regret that. I regret doubting her reality.
Eventually she bought me a drink; she called it an Appleté but trapped in the pulsating fuchsia lights of the club it looked purple. It tasted like jealousy; sour and eye watering. When I told her this she laughed a little, apparently she'd heard that one before. I drank it anyway. I wanted to slot into my assigned role in her fantastical world.
We talked a little. She served other men drinks. The ones in the shadows could have been my reflection. It was confusing. The

HaloHear me read it
A halo of rope around my neck,
Is the closest to heaven, that I'll ever get.
I was crying so hard that the tears were pooling in my ears as she held my chin back. My eyes and nose streamed and meant I choked for breath around each new handful. I'd like to say she was methodical, orderly. But she was not. She had a surgical tray of containers and ripped heartfuls out of them at random. Pressing her hand down over my mouth so that mashed potato filled my mouth and I had to swallow it to breathe. I gagged and writhed under her hands but she held me down until my mouth was clear enough for oxygen and then as I inhaled and coughed as potato tried to get into my lungs her left hand would press down with something else.
It wasn't always like that. Sometimes she'd hold my nose and press my tongue down, tipping vodka directly over my tonsils. Sometimes she'd let me have little pauses to cry. Most of the time though she would go too fast, force too much into my small, convulsing throat, and I would vomit. My body rejecting her attack. It wasn't

I've Killed UsDrowning, my lungs have collapsed,
no air within this dark night-time tragedy
as it plays out, twisting and sculpting
my anxiety into consequences of actions -
time tries to compress around my throat;
I'm choking with the grief of what I've killed.
I've killed us. Unspoken words gush
from my nose, from my wrists, they seep out
and stain the carpet as richly as any blood
we may or may not have exchanged
in our last struggle to get the last brutal word.
I tried to wound you, my skin wanted revenge
for the humming of anger and fear
rippling through the nerve endings -
I wanted you to scream and wail and die.
I did.
I did.
But now you're laying facing the window
and I'm out of your orbit and the colds setting in.
My lungs have collapsed, I'm drowning,
organ failure bubbles out my eyes and mouth
until I beg you to forgive me, I beg.
I beg and pull you towards me but your cold too
and your eyes glazed over with that
all-too-familiar eternal apathy that you knew
I wanted. You've
A Summer WildThe grass was higher than her hemline
and when we ran it whipped tallies into her skin.
Faint reminders of her feints at death
that ran along each artery.
She flew;
like leaves tossed high upon a summer wild
into the seasons greetings.
It greeted her;
the sun kissed her as an idol. So did I.
A hazy bronze summer dulled slowly.
I tasted copper in my mouth,
spat blood into the sink: ashamed, disgusted,
We sat apart together
over gravy boats and salted wounds.
She remarked on the rain.
She reigned over her mark.
She had my trachea wrapped around her little finger and,
once or twice, she twisted.
She was twisted.
I grew cold to her; afraid.
But eventually, one not-so-special morning,
the sun came up.
Spring, I thought. Spring, I did!
I got out of her house
and out of her hair, like she'd nagged me to;
I ran.
I ran and the grass made me higher
than her hemline ever had; 
as I ran and it whispered tales of freedom.
Faint reminders of faraway places that ran deep
inside my

My Most Popular Works

You'll Never DieHear me read it!
They say that if a writer falls in love with you then you never really die.
Instead your body is laid out in its funerial shrouds and moulds are made. Soft impressions of you to be pressed onto the blank faces of future loves.
Every time I write of taking comfort in a safe place in a storm, it will be your forearm. Every half-made smile will be on your lips, and every touch will be constructed from the residue beneath your fingernails.
When I metaphise of trees' blood, the leaves that give the energy so that a willow can provide shade for those in need, it will be your blood, it will be your light drenched kisses.
Every tear on every face will taste of the sweat that you put into keeping me happy. Every soaring song of love will be played through your windpipe, your trachea my instrument of choice.
For every time that a hero has the strength to walk on, I will use your feet. I will weld them to my own and walk a mile. Wal
StitchesHer name is Stitches and I love her.
She doesn't believe that - she says it is an improbability.
She doesn't say impossibility and that gives me hope.
No one but me knows why she's called Stitches.
I've run my hands over her soft white skin,
Flushed with the fevers of midnight.
I've touched it.
I've let my fingertips explore the hitches in her skin,
Where her body couldn't quite heal itself.
Old memories of gaping holes and vicious lies.
From her shoulder to her wrist,
From her knee to her ankle,
Any where she can negotiate a knife - she is Stitches.
It makes her cry sometimes.
She says she doesn't like being a rag doll any more.
They're old scars, robbing her flesh of its innocence,
Betraying her old soul - etching it out - a tally on her skin.


Some Beautiful Comments About My Work

See all of my precious reviews here :blowkiss:

... Speech Bubble by socksyy"You are without-a-doubt one of the most impressive writers I've had the pleasure to read from. As a young writer myself, I look up to you and your beautiful usage of words." - RebbleDiamonds

... Speech Bubble by socksyy"heartbreakingly beautiful. Just raw and honest and everything that makes reading poetry worthwhile." - Flermigan

... Speech Bubble by socksyy"Honest, economic, filled with verbal realism, and pitch perfect. Sensational work." - Dmofosho

... Speech Bubble by socksyy"this is Ginsberg for the 21st Century." - exquisiteoath

Think DeviantART should have a 'Reviews' widget? Me too. Click here to fave the suggestion!

My Groups

Groups I Contribute To / Own

Check them out by clicking the avatar or the name!
We'd love to have you involved :love:



A group for the lit community, by the lit community! An attempt to re-establish old community ties from the days of #LitLove but also to evolve with DeviantART and to try and be the most useful group it can be! Suggestions, feedback and volunteers all welcome - as well as you're lovely literature!

A group that encourages people to reach out and build support networks. We have a chatroom here and we try to provide a safe, supportive environment in our group and chat for everyone.

A group that collects all kinds of visual arts in square formats! It's really that simple but I love it.

This group was a collection point for the project positivity collages but now lies dormant waiting for something positive and powerful that will contribute to our community. If you have ideas, hit me with 'em!

I'm currently on hiatus due to ill health but I do contribute features of Fashion Photography to the Senior Selections group because its an incredible way to highlight talent and Fashion photography is my secret love.

Hearts [B/Blue] by RevPixy


Eternal Features

I am delighted to have some of my RL best friends here on DeviantART. These people keep me alive and kicking every day (often against my will) so if you wanna meet these beautiful souls please be kind to them as I am very protective!


Some of the people who I hold deep in my heart, those who inspire me and my work or who just make my life more bearable. <3



BloodshotInk has started a donation pool!
2,925 / 5,000

You must be logged in to donate.

AdCast - Ads from the Community

OHAI There!



Previously known as `KathrynODriscoll and `Flutterings

Hearts [B/Blue] by RevPixy

Kate || 28 || Female || Demisexual

Bath Spa University || British || Eccentric || Dreamer || Lost
Self Harmer || Mood Dysthymia with Major Depressive Episodes
Broken || Social Anxiety Disorder || Mixed Personality Disorder
Suicidal Tendencies || Mesmerised by Stars and Seas || Dog-lover
Addicted to Poetry || Old Soul Trying to Save Others Like Me
Disability, Mental Health, Gender & LGBTQ Activist || Feminist

"Silence, Earthling! My name is Darth Vader! I am an extraterrestrial from the planet Vulcan!"

Little Hearts Divider by JEricaMLittle Hearts Divider by JEricaM

Contact me on other websites by clicking above!

Little Hearts Divider by JEricaMHearts [B/Blue] by RevPixyLittle Hearts Divider by JEricaM

© Kathryn O'Driscoll. All rights reserved.

All the materials contained in my deviantART gallery may not be reproduced, copied, tubed, edited, published,transmitted or uploaded in any way without my full written permission.

All characters belong to me unless otherwise stated in the artist's comments.

Little Hearts Divider by JEricaMLittle Hearts Divider by JEricaM

My names Kate, I've been here on DeviantART for approximately forever.. I like to help people and make people smile. I write quite dark, disillusioned poetry and prose about the world, mental health, disabilities etc - but at the end of the day a lot of hope, belief in humanity and love sneaks in there too.

I am 28 years old, currently a mature student at the incredible Bath Spa University working towards a degree in Creative Writing, looking to use my gift to influence representations of mental health and disabilities.

Nice to meet you!

Little Hearts Divider by JEricaMHearts [B/Blue] by RevPixyLittle Hearts Divider by JEricaM

Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Joined DeviantART on Oct 27, 2007
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet First Daily Deviation 'Grace' on Mar 13, 2008
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Given `Seniority on Dec 9, 2008
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Second Daily Deviation 'He Loves Me Not' on Aug 29, 2008
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Third Daily Deviation 'Branches and Apricots' on Mar 22, 2009
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Fourth Daily Deviation 'Fisherman's Blues' on Dec 26, 2012
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Fifth Daily Deviation 'Tattoo' on Jul 1, 2013
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Sixth Daily Deviation 'Wrapped Up In Herself' on Jan 10, 2014
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Seventh Daily Deviation 'Ironman' on Sep 21, 2014
Heart Pixel by Snowfleet Eighth Daily Deviation 'A Hostage To Her' on Sep 9, 2015

Little Hearts Divider by JEricaM

Avatar made by Kezzi-Rose just for me :love:, thanks babe!


Guides You Might Like

Occasionally I'm helpful. Sometimes. Sorta. These might be those times. You'll have to read them to find out.

How to Improve Your WritingHow to improve your writing
In 2013 I wrote an article called How to get more views on your Literature. I wanted to give actual practical advice from people who know, writers established in the DA lit community.The article was (and still is) very popular and seems to have helped a lot of folks so I decided to tackle a different (but way more important question)... how can we make our writing the best it can be?
Because it's great to show work to your friends but self improvement, or working towards a goal (for a lot of us that's a writing career, a novel, publication, competitions etc) is a whole different thing. So I asked some of DA's finest to spill the beans and answer those commonly asked questions 'How did you get so good?' 'Will I ever be able to write like this?' and 'Hi, is this Dominos?' (wrong number).
In How to get more views... I promi
How to get more views on your LiteratureHow to get more views on your Literature
    This article is an exploration of a common question on DeviantART in the Literature community; "How do I get more views?" If you read all of this you win a pony.
    Lately there has been a lot of discussion around the site about ways to expand the literature community and the visibility of literature on the site. It has been noted that a lot of people believe that site changes by the DeviantART team will help them get more attention for their work. It has also been noted in the past that when new features are instigated (such as more html, better thumbnails and stash) that people often interpret whether or not they have a direct positive effect on their own views as a way of telling if the new feature is worthwhile or not.
    It has been suggested that the community and individuals therein should themselves take more responsibility for creating opportunities and maximising poten
How to write poetryAlright, the title is misleading. No one can tell you how to write poetry, but I am going to share what I feel are the important aspects to writing something that will actually touch other people.
What makes a good piece of poetry?
Some people's eyes are automatically drawn to spelling and punctuation. It's the first thing they look for when they read something. I'm not one of those people. Spelling and punctuation are tools to help you communicate yourself effectively, but whether you spell it right or not, if someone knows what you are trying to say, you have suceeded.
People write poetry for many different reasons. I know people who spend weeks crafting their words into a piece that they are happy with, that follows rules of form and flow. They write to have written, to create something beautiful. If you are one of those writers, I can't help you here. But you can learn everything you need to know from a technical dictionary. Stephen Fry's An Ode Less Travelled is a great pla
The Geek's Guide to Lit GroupsThe Geek's Guide to Lit Groups Links:
:bulletblue: Groups with names beginning with A - H
:bulletblue: Groups with names beginning with I - S
:bulletblue: Groups with names beginning with S - Z
:bulletblue: The Geek's Guide to Inactive Groups

What's done?! IT'S DONE. I have spent days and days and days collecting a list of all the lit groups I could find (1901 groups to be exact!), then I went through each one and moved all the groups that had no discernible activity in the past 12 months to the Inactive Groups list (see links above). Then with

Hey Beautiful!

icon by m-0-c-h-i

You don't need to say thanks!

It's so sweet of you to drop by to say thanks for faves, watches, llamas.. but you really don't need to thank me.

I favourite works that I like so I can see them again in the future, or so I can create feature journals (if I feature you deviantART will notify you!)

I watch people for all kinds of reasons. I might just wanna see your future art, journals, collections.. I might just think you're funny or cool.. or sometimes if I see someone giving really thoughtful feedback to literature or photography (my two main loves on here) I watch them to see if they contribute art to the site later on. Because often people with the most constructive feedback apply it to their own work and have beautiful works to show. So even if you have nothing in your gallery yet, if I'm watching you thats for my own reasons and you don't have to thank me OR reciprocate.

I give people llamas mainly if I see them being a good community member. Good, thoughtful comments on literature are my soft spot so if you are a lit lover, that's probably where its from. I also try to return any llamas I get.

SO, all of these things are for me! You don't need to say thank you. Just go be a wonderful, thoughtful, inspired deviant and I hope to talk to you properly soon!

If you have a question, thought, or just wanna chat feel free to leave a comment though.. but be warned I am a full-time student and an officer within my Uni's SU so sometimes it might take me a while to reply!


Add a Comment:
summon09 Featured By Owner 10 hours ago  Hobbyist General Artist
You say I don't need to, but I still want to thank you... thanks for the llama!^^
jeychen5 Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the llama :)
AvidCommenter Featured By Owner 4 days ago   Writer
Thanks for the llama!
oddityghosting Featured By Owner 5 days ago  Student General Artist
sinnedbisk Featured By Owner 5 days ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the badge! :)
Add a Comment: