gabrielleconnors

[gabrielleconnors]

His favorite color is used as the focus of all of my paintings

His favorite song is my warm up song before every karaoke night

His favorite food is the recipe I spent my life perfecting

His favorite shape is sewn lovingly into my signature

#i love you #love poem #prose #my muse

[gabrielleconnors]

I need to eat something though, if I don't it will get worse, I'm starving and I won't be able to control it if I get too weak. I have to do something, and I can't pay. I reason with my mind and bite off the head of my morals. Quick glances around me to see if anyone has noticed me but everyone is staring at their phones, at their machines, and their screens.

My right hand stretches in a circular motion and the energy in the room begins to push to the right. I glance around, no one has noticed. with a deep breath I close my fist and a dark void rips around the apple. It's just a pen stroke at first, just a little artists accident. It bleeds out into the look of spilled ink. My right thumb twitches with each second, warning of the limited control. the pen ink envelops my apple but continues bleeding. I try to open my hand, I try to control my breathing, nothing is changing. The rip in the atmosphere is starting to make a quiet noise, like air being sucked into a vacuum. I notice the shift in energy, It's no longer flowing to the right, it has paused. The energy stagnates in the air, causing peoples hair to stand up. People are no longer on their phones, no one has pressed a button in what feels like ages. I wince at my realization, I am creating a spectacle and I'm caught. The void tears itself out until it swallows the entire apple stand hole.

No one moves, I don't move. I close my eyes and shift my weight to the left, I put all of my force into my left side and rotate my body left in a violent jerking motion while clearing my throat loudly. I need to reset myself first, then I can fix the energy in the room. I remember shoving my face in a bowl of ice water, I recall the sensation of a hot blade on my skin, I imagine the air rushing passed me as if I was falling off of a building or flying or if the window was down in a fast car. The void closed with an ethereal snapping sound and I was finally able to breath again.

The apple stand was gone, along with some chunks of the floor. Trash was littered across the floor, boxes and packages ripped open with their contents strewn about. People had their phones in the air, filming. All of the energy streamed on a constant motion from every phone, I could feel what once was an room devoid of energy recharging rapidly and it was a head rush. I panicked, turned on my heal and sprinted out of the building. The automated doors stayed open after I left, undoubtedly broken. Some people tried to chase after me yelling and filming, but they disappeared into the distance easily

#my writing #reading #writers and poets #fiction #fantasy #novel #eating disorder trigger warning #sh trigger #suicide trigger #superheroes #original comic

[gabrielleconnors]

Sterile flickering lights greeted me before the greeter had a chance. Dirt covered tan tile flooring crackled under the weight of my boots. People rushed passed averting their gaze away from anything alive. The only color was the pops of advertising on the off white shelves, that way a costumer could never miss the bright orange writing squealing five percent off. Dark red apples sat next to a pyramid of bright green apples in the open fruit section, and I grabbed a green one. twenty registers lined up near the exit, but none of them were populated. The only lighted sign was for the self checkout, a horde of five registers with one cashier supervising. I took my apple to the cashier in earnest.

"Are their any other check-outs available?" I asked her, and she shook her head.

I didn't need to hear the rest but she explained none the less in her high pitched friendly demeanor. "I'm so sorry, we are understaffed. We can't open a new register." I nodded to her words in compliance and defeat.

I knew what would happen if I touched one of those machines, and the memory shook me with embarrassment. There are strict rules to my life and these are big ones. I never touch a card, let alone pay with one. I am only allowed to carry cash. Memories of my screaming father bubble up behind my eyes from when I was a child. I make payment cards worthless; once in contact with my skin they will never be able to communicate with a machine again, much like myself. I can never use a touch screen, wired controls give me a limited amount of time before infecting the machine with my virus. If I touch a screen it won't turn back on, if I use a machine it will no longer function, if stand near one it will glitch and stall. If someone is using technology, I must courteously step away. Memories of my mother crying bubble up in my throat. I can not drive a car, and I should not take public transit. I feel my eyes heat with emotion, and I swallow away my thoughts. I set the apple back on the stand.

#my writing #reading #fiction #fantasy #novel #dystopia

[gabrielleconnors]

I’ve been told that people react to their environment, but I think my environment came to me as a test. I believed I was a good person, then I was placed in an environment that tested that and I failed.

#mental illness #this is about being institutionalized #in the mental hospital #grippysockvacation

[gabrielleconnors]

Imagery rots my brains, and I long to spill them out into any format available. Please world, accept these pieces of me, they are all I have.

#my writing #reading #poem #poetsandwriters #poetscommunity #writers and poets #my poem #original poem #poems on tumblr #poetic #dark aesthetic #mente suicidia

[gabrielleconnors]

Funky jazz boosted the bass of the speaker, deep gulps of music bursted to the rhythm of accepting one’s own fate. A soprano begged for mercy in a beautiful sweeping pitch, tears in every syllable.

The speaker grew louder, and the crackling grew more apparent. My boots fell onto the damp pavement with each drop of the drum. Dull purpled lights showed through old dirty windows. Yellowed shear curtains hung on by a thread hid the details of the people inside. Slumped dark figures pushing their pain deeper into their chests with every sip, and sighing out disappointed acceptance.

The speakers gave a jumping screech at my presence, but I pressed on expecting the disruption. Irritation cried out from the startled shells at the bar. I walked past, and the music continued. It faded quietly out into the blue night behind me, with each step the crackling became clearer. I disappeared down the empty street until the music was gone from me, perhaps playing a happier tune now.

#my writing #writers and poets #writing on tumblr #detailed description #reading

[gabrielleconnors]

I don’t understand why every single interesting skill we can memorize isn’t in a cute YA fiction format.

Learning computer coding? Here’s a main character in the cyber universe trying to save the world with her friends- and they actually include valid codes and text book information hidden inside this romantic violent adventure story about teens living in the post apocalyptic internet.

Learning a new language? So is this main character who had to go into hiding and live in this foreign country in order to hide from the vampiric cult chasing him. Learn about the country’s culture, history, geography and language all while anxiously worrying if the main character will escape his evil vampiric ex.

Want to learn how to bake? This is not a cook book, but it includes over 50 recipes made by the main character and side characters in the competition to earn a scholarship for this fancy magic baking school. The reader can taste each entry in this magical competition and see if they agree with the judges, or if our main character was wronged!

#my writing #writing ideas #ya fantasy #ya fiction #computer science #bilingual #baking #this is how text books should be written

[gabrielleconnors]

An artists apology

Is snake-ish and snail-ish

Actions only quick when he thinks no one see’s

Words only gentle to lure you into trust

An artists apology seems worth that of the beggars cup- good for what u can get out of it, which ain’t much.

A sly fox claiming fame of a beat dog, he ruffles the feathers of the hens nonetheless

~~~~

A poets sorry excuse for a work ethic

Laying to rot all day and night to see what it’s like

To be buried six feet deep.

She would never pick up the shovel herself, she only has time to think.

Ha look I can do this too, how easy you are to be fooled.

Some care taker you turned out to be “I don’t care for laundry”

#did osdd #poet vs artist #they are titles for real people #not referring to all artists or poets #the use of artist and poet here is name calling tbh #this is so childish #oh my god #it’s a rap battle #rap battle #fml why is this in my head

[gabrielleconnors]

The poet and the artist

Blades drawn at each other

“I know what’s best”

“No, its my turn”

The poet and the artist

The artist was troublesome and selfish

The poet was naïve and egotistical

“Not egotistical if I’m self aware” she’d say, completely delusional.

The muse enjoys them all, their quirks and games.

Dancing with blades again, more subject for the matter in our heads for the paper in our hands.

#reading #my writing #poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #prose #ptsd recovery #poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #did community

[gabrielleconnors]

I feel my time is fading

But I still have things to do

Please don’t look away

Don’t you see what I’ve brought you

I’ve done all I can although it was nothing

It was enough, now you see us in your world view

We exist, at least these three, so take all the time you need

But not too long, because we have goals too

#my writing #poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #prose #ptsd recovery #poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #mental health #did system #did osdd #did alter #traumagenic did #did community #cats outa the bag #tired of driving the corpse #hosting is being a hostage

[gabrielleconnors]

When the cold metal teeth entered my flesh the world turned into a hole.

Everything became the trap.

Everyone became the hunter.

I was sinking in a whirl pool of lies and betrayal.

Forgiveness was just a concept before, and now it was worlds away.

My resources looked like rat poison, my friends looked like dogs foaming at the mouth, my family was heavy leather boots stomping around me.

Upon further inspection, their world was just a trap too, and they believed if they piled enough bodies beneath them they could climb out.

#reading #my writing #poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #prose #ptsd recovery #poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #mental illness #mental health #recovery

[gabrielleconnors]

Ode au Thé

beau thé à la framboise saveur acidulée, texture crémeuse chaleur pour mon âme

#french #tea #raspberry

[gabrielleconnors]

Confessions of My Ghost

Possession is so fickle, like riding a unicycle a constant back and forth, a pull and push. Check the dark, experience the light- but be sure to check the dark. Hate going back into the dark, it took me so long to get to the light. There is always an audience, judgemental eyes.

#poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #short poem #poets corner #my poem #poetic #writers and poets #original poem #poets on tumblr #absolute insanity #possession #ghost #mental illness

[gabrielleconnors]

My poetry could never compare to the simple phrase

“Could I have a hug?”

The context delivery weighs with it emotion heavy enough to drop or light enough to float

The stop-pause-breath caught in throat

How do I answer

How do I feel

Disgust, remorse, pity, apathy?

“Why do you feel so guilty”- Why don’t you?

#poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #short poem #sad poem #poets corner #my poem #poetic #writers and poets #original poem #poets on tumblr #my writing #female writers #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #this is actually #about my dad #forgiveness #is so hard

[gabrielleconnors]

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells... and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there too.. a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower... both strange and familiar.

- Cornelia Funke, The Inkheart

[gabrielleconnors]

French Class

long hair and black velvet ribbons

soft dark dresses and long knitted socks

textures are important, and sounds even more so

she is the petals of a galaxy petunia

the down of a common eider

#poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #short poem #my poem #poetic #writers and poets #original poem #poets on tumblr #poets corner #girl poem #poems about a girl #love poem

[gabrielleconnors]

The Sweet and Merciful

I know she is there as well as she knows of me. I glanced for moments at her as she ethereally glided through the sheer curtains. She sees all and accepts all, and upon my giddy eyes she saw the deep devotion. She blessed me with open arms, and granted curses upon the brows of those with ill intentions. I feared for them, the way I fear for abandoning my expectations. I pushed her aside to aid those who hurt me, but she accepted this. She is a terrifying concept, but a true friend. I drape my flesh in her offerings, and abandon the stereotypes cast by the world. She is acceptance and warmth, and in Death I too will partake in her truest form. I will never betray my friend again, as terrifying as she is I will remind myself to not fear her. She's taught me the truest meaning of life is to die, and more importantly the truest meaning of Death is to live.

#diety #deity work #deity worship #paganism #polytheism #witchcraft #witchblr #Death #I must live life to it's fullest #That is my worship #the meaning of life is to experience life