sparksoffire

[sparksoffire]

when I was very young my mother told me “they’re going to try and teach you that we came from monkeys but that’s not true and you shouldn’t listen to them because we were made from god” and she was my mom and I was like 7, so I pretty much just went “okay, noted, anyway”

anyway like 2 years later evolution comes up in class and one of my classmates goes “is this the we evolved from monkeys thing?”

and I’m on Red Alert. this is what my mom told me about!

the teacher replies, “well, we share a common ancestor, but we didn’t evolve directly from apes. if you go back way before apes or people existed, you’ll find a different third thing we both came from. we know this because of things like fossils”

and I was like whoo! dodged a bullet there, good thing my 4th grade science class isn’t trying to teach us we came from monkeys and instead figured stuff out using fossils and taught us that instead :)

Instructions Unclear, Ended Up Believing In Evolution Anyway

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[ID: a google doc with the italicized text: “orpheus loves eurydice.” “loves” has a blue underline under it, which is signalling that it should be autocorrected to “and.” End ID.]

literally emo over this autocorrect . like it’s right… there’s no need for “orpheus loves eurydice” as a statement. the evidence is already there: orpheus and eurydice

[sparksoffire]

In the house where I grew up,

violence was a rare thing.

A very regrettable occurrence,

yet as unavoidable as bed-time.

Please understand,

mostly we were a perfect-

-ly functional-

family.

We were the lucky ones, we knew.

We never went without, unless-

Oh Lord forgive me, for I hunger

-it was said we should lose weight.

Every time I see my sister, a rarity-

I hear my mother’s voice, promising

I wouldn’t be hurt if I smile and nod

like she had learned how to do.

But I cannot breathe without

the memory of my fathers hands

wrapped around my throat

in punishment and in comfort, both.

The good times were so so good.

The good times were every day.

-except the bad ones-

The good times were everything.

When panic steals my mind away

I call my mother to hear her voice.

It’s soft tempo a gentle litany and

I barely hear the remembered curses.

I downed 36 pills before I broke down

and sobbed the truth to my parents.

I took salt water next, then a math test,

then a trip to the hospital.

My mother held me as I cried and shook.

I remember her gentle hands, her sobs,

I remember she told me “powerless?

You’ve shown you have all the power.”

My father’s heartbeat is, even now,

the best lullaby I have ever heard.

The perfect cure, a panacea

for the nights I wake gasping.

His sailor’s hands, warm on my nape,

steering me straight and true

promised safety and a way home

and whispered a threat.

Does it help that it broke his heart too?

Does it help that he was hurting, was hurt?

I have seen my father cry five times

and I was the cause of four.

Does it help that she wanted the best?

Does it help if she promised she loves me?

The worst pain of my mother’s life

was put there by me.

Now my life is an unanswered question:

Does it matter? Did it count?

I know that they tried their best.

I know the violence was so so rare.

But the threat was always there.

— The Sword of Damocles, by sparks

#child abuse #poem #poetry #family

[sparksoffire]

“Where exactly do you put your hands on somebody who hurts everywhere?”

— Charles D'Ambrosio, “Screenwriter,” The Death Fish Museum

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the line “your worst sin is that you’ve betrayed and destroyed yourself for nothing” is so raw you’d think it’s from a destiel fanfic or even hetalia but it’s actually from dostoyevskys crime and punishment

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Source: This

[sparksoffire]

To Matter

After the battle was over- after the blood had soaked into the ground and the carrion birds had had their fill of the dead and dying- the general stood in the castle she had once called home, across from the captured duchess, light standing against dark, and watched her.

"Why are you here?" She asked at last, "You must have known we were coming, we marched for days."

A long pause stretched out, moments stretching out like the silver wire they had once worked together, spelling it into a set of bells whose music always rang true. The general had the absurd thought that she should fetch them, just to break the silence that pressed in like a funeral shroud. Instead her captive lolled her head back, her dark eyes finding the general's and freezing her in place. If the blood trickling from the dark haloing her face was any indication she'd taken a knock to the head at some point, an insult the general swore to avenge, but it hadn't dulled the sharpness in her eyes any.

"This is my home. If I'm to fall I can't think of a better place to lie," her eyes flickered to the sword sheathed at the general's hip, the only piece of her equipment she'd bothered to wipe clean from the blood and grime of battle, "or a better blade to fall on."

The general's hand tightened on her sword, before she drew it and cast it aside, without ever breaking eye contact. "We made this sword togther."

"Yes."

"I would sooner cut off my hand than raise that blade against you."

The duchess snarled then, a sound all the more jarring for how cold her face remained, "But you saw no problem in raising it against my people, against my students?

The blonde winced at that. "I wish that hadn't been necessary-"

"Yes, it must have been so difficult for you, cutting down defencless men and women while they fled for their lives."

"If they'd just surrendered we'd have been able to stop. My queen- my mother gives no quarter."

"And yet here I am." The brunette gave a shrug against the chains holding her securely to the chair, "Alive, a prisoner, unless all your pretty words amount to is handing the axe to another?"

"No!" The general closed the distance between them then, kneeling down in front of the restrained prisoner and taking her face gently in her hands, "No." she said again, softly. "My mother has agreed no harm will come to you, as long as you officially announce your surrender. We can do it at the wedding, Mother thinks it will be best to hold it quickly, as we will have to continue the campaign once the mountain ice melts."

The duchess looked at her incredulously for a moment, before roughly jerking her face out of the general's hands, pale digits leaving glistening trails of blood on her dark cheeks, mingling with the blood still sluggishly leaking from her forehead. "Dearest, I'm not sure how this wasn't clear to you before, but the engagement is most definitely off. Something to do with your slaughtering my people, invading my home, and ransacking this place of learning."

The general frowned, and stood to her full height, towering over her captive. "That's not really an option."

"Oh, it most certainly is," The seated woman said fearlessly, staring at at her jailor, "since I will not be surrendering, and I certainly won't be consenting to a marriage under these conditions."

"I'm afraid you misunderstand me." The fair woman replied, a mocking echo of past debated in far more favourable circumstances, "You will surrender, and you will marry me, because it is the only way I can protect you. I will use whatever means necessary to achieve this, because believe me when I say the things my mother will do to you without my protection will leave you begging for an end that will never come. Besides," she added, with a smirk that just barely touched her eyes, "once you've calmed down I doubt you will consider it too much of a hardship, dearest."

She turned to leave then, gesturing to the guards staring devoutly at the wall to release the duchess from the chair she was restrained to, only to be stopped by a scoff. The sound managed to pack so much derision into it the general was impressed. "What is it?" She asked, turning back around.

"We still haven't established why I'm here." The duchess pointed out, a mocking eyebrow raised.

"You said-"

"I said if I was to die I would die here. I did not say I planned to die here. You know me- my plans are usually a little more involved than that."

Gesturing for the guards to pause, the blonde weighed up her responses carefully, not wanting to seem over eager. "So what is the plan, then?"

"It's simple, really. I'm testing a hypothesis. I think I matter to you-"

"You do." She confirmed immediately, only to be rewarded with a scowl.

"Let me finish. I think I matter to you more than all of this. More than a war you can never win because it will never end because it will never be enough. More than a mother, a queen, who demands everything and gives you mountains of sufferring and pebbles of pleasure. More than everything you have here, you want me. So I'm testing a hypothesis. It's this: when it comes down to it, you're going to choose me. All I've got to do is get us there."

Off-balance, all the general could muster in response was "I won't let it come to that." She backed away a step, before arresting herself, straightening up, and walking out as hastily as possible without looking like she was running away. Still it wasn't fast enough not to hear the closing shot volleyed after her.

"Want to bet?"

#my writing #short story #drama #whump #lady whump #captivity whump #kinda #the general and the duchess #ficlet #actually based on my novel

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No one talks about grief as part of the gay experience. I fought against the idea of being gay for so long, not because I hated it, but because even then I knew, so much of what I thought I would have was gone. Realising I was gay came with a pround sense of loss, that the life I thought I would lead was forever closed to me. I love being gay, I really do, I wouldn't change a thing. I just wish I could go back, to a younger version of me, and say, "It's okay. There are new dreams to be had. There are other futures. And it's okay to mourn the lost."

Sparks, Gay grief

#lgbtq #gay #poem

[sparksoffire]

Do you know what it means to burn? I am always angry, fury like a fire in me. It catches at any part still human enough to kindle, dry wood set alight by rage, alone, with no one to cling on to. I find, I am undone.

Sparks

#poem #poetry #fire

[sparksoffire]

How old do I have to get before it stops hurting? I am running from my past, and I will not, I cannot- I will never be forgiven for an existence that flays me to the bone, that feels like a wound in the fabric of reality. I want to breathe without pain. I want to close my eyes safely. I want to live without fear.

Sparks

#poetry #poem #? #depression

[sparksoffire]

I am burning, mother I burnt, will burn, am burning I am a conflagration across time and space Fire is an exothermic reaction of oxygen that occurs rapidly and releases heat and light And I feel the air in me and around me  - and I know, I could sustain this for a universe's lifetime But the world's getting warmer, mother The heat's rising within me and without me I'm starting to wonder how it would feel To burn it all down

Would I find rest in the ashes? 

sparks

#fire #poetry #rage #mother #global warming #i guess

[sparksoffire]

my body is too small to contain me

yet too large to be loved

and I don’t which is worse

but i paint galaxies across my skin

tattoo stars where scars once lived

and claim it back anyway

- my life fits me poorly but it’s mine

#stars #poetry #body image

[sparksoffire]

“i will always love you”

you say like it matters

like I have not loved you

with my heart in my mouth

as long as I’ve known

what loving really means

like you don’t prefer

to love without knowing

the truth of who I am

like it’s safe to let

myself be imperfect

when you’re around me

Maybe your love is unconditional. Your kindness isn’t.

maybe it doesn’t matter if someone’s love is unconditional if their kindness isn’t?- sparks

#love #unconditionallove #poem #poetry #family

[sparksoffire]

In the shadows of my childhood woods I loved you. In the trees where I grew and aged from a young sapling to a half-grown oak, still lengthening my roots but reaching for the sun in earnest now. I loved you in sunlight and moonlight, under stars and sun both. I know I never said it. I know I never will. Some things are not made to be shared, some words exists best in that quiet place between lungs and mouth, where secrets breed and hearts beat. Sometimes love is loud and bold and bright, it shines out to the world, boldly proclaiming its inalienable right to be, but I have always loved softly. It was once said by a friend of mine, and bears repeating here, I believe, that to truly love someone you cannot love them in spite of their flaws, for that engenders resentment, and equally you cannot love them because of their flaws, for that encourages their multiplication. To love someone, to truly love someone, you must first accept them as a whole and complete human being, imperfect and wonderful for those imperfections. I loved you when you rose, and I loved you when you fell, and know that there was never any moment when you were any less deserving of that love. When you were coated in dirt, bruised and scratched and shaken, you were loved. When you fly high, showing the world all your infinite potential you will be no less loved and no less deserving. You are loved. Doubt whatever you want, but know that. You are loved. Always, and completely.

I Loved You, by IJ

#love #idk #poem #poetry #mine

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there’s still light in the end

#suicide #self harm #poetry #hope

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i love you still

#love #unrequited love #acceptance #poem #poetry

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~by IJ

#love #falling #water