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judas-redeemed · 10 months

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THE WORLD IS ENDING by judas h.

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the-dose-makes-the-poison · 5 months

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Hidden in a secret place, Somewhere Between half-light and half-darkness, Between pain and tenderness, Between adoration and contempt, Between indifference and love, My trembling heart is waiting To be found and touched by you.

— the-dose-makes-the-poison

#poetry #my poetry #my prose #spilled ink #crap poetry #romantic poetry #romantic prose #original poetry #my writing #mine #poetrylovers #poets on tumblr

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psychastria · 2 years

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Simran, an excerpt from everything and nothing

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writinn · 5 months

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Living life, or are you just surviving it? Survival in a world tightly knitted by the prison of your mind. Your worst enemy would probably be it. It kills you internally whilst nobody really knows. Everything goes wrong in your head, nobody to look for, nobody to care. Loneliness slowly creeps in and you find yourself going through another episode of being unwanted, unloved and just being here without a purpose. Every person comes into your life just to become a lesson for you. Nobody stays. And once again, your mind is here, beating your heart up. What can you possibly do? All you can do is try and never find a solution. Because your reckless head isn't allowing. So, will you be free of your own self is a matter yet for you to know. The one where you'll never find a solution for and just being held captive is your lone choice. Freedom of oneself is an idea that's existing within you but nobody knows. Nobody knows the pain and trauma you've had. All there is to do is to just survive. Because that is life for you.

#writers on tumblr #i like to write #female writers #love to write #original post #original prose #prose #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #words words words #my words #writers and poets #writers creed #writerscommunity #writer #writing community #my thoughts #my prose

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penvibess · 3 months

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Dear you,

I don't know what love is, I don't know what it looks like or sounds like. I don't know what it is supposed to feel like.

But I swear to God, when you laugh, it is like the sweetest melody to my ears, it is warm and soothing, like the first sip of coffee in winter. When you look at me with those brown eyes, it is like losing myself in your universe that lies behind those orbs. When the sun hits your face, it is like looking at the first ray of light after being alone in the darkness for a long time.

Your hair feels like silk between my fingers and your hands fit in mine like they're meant to be held by me. You are beautiful in ways I can't begin to comprehend and it hurts that I will never be able to put it into words that will justify the kind of person you are.

I dread the days that I have to spend without you and hope for the moment to last for just a little bit longer when we are together. I secretly giggle at the lamest of your jokes and say that I hate you with a hopeless smile. On days when we are apart, I only look forward to holding you in my arms.

I don't know what love is, what it looks like or what it is supposed to feel like but I swear to God, I have never felt safer, happier, and understood the way I have felt with you, and if that's what love is then I'm glad to have experienced it with you.

Yours truly,

<3

#explore #poetry #writing #self written #wordsnquotes #love poetry #poemsdaily #writeblr #quotes #prose writing #prose poem #my prose #prose poetry #prose #writers of tumblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writings

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the-happy-princes-sketchbook · 2 days

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Football Field Confessional

Ekphrastic poem

Did Jesus love his father

when he woke up with scars on his palms

and blood in his eyes?

Did instinct tell him to be good,

even when his body bore

the holes of human hate?

Sitting on the bleachers, cheap

liquor hot in the pit of my stomach,

I can’t find him to ask.

I don’t feel so good, I want to tell him.

You’re supposed to make sure I’m not alone.

The rage in me is ancient, Roman;

the same kind that killed Jesus.

I want all the men who punch holes in walls

and put their hands on little girls

to die slowly and painfully.

I want the boy who fucked me

into a dirty yellow mattress to come

back home so I can tell him

I never loved him.

I want his brother to come back

so I won’t have to see the half-mast flag

on his mother’s rotting porch.

I want to find the edge of the world

in California, where I know there is love

and so many other bright, wonderful things.

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mortalghost · 1 year

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Stolen moments in between breaths as life beckons a cold memory to awaken. Blowing winds yearn for forgiveness while weeping a past into existence. Torrid torments drown tsunamis from the life once lived now forgiven. May the winds of change bring a solace to encapsulate a spoken word to humble ears that will love them for eternity.

Melt with tender words and fade away.

A dying ember sparks the soul of a fevered dream as the lot of nightmares embrace. Ignite the world in forgotten lore while writers rhyme of life, forevermore. Breath catches on lips past storms colliding far beyond tethered promises of wanton lovers tied since before time. Beginnings and endings have no meaning when the purest form of flattery is lost where the Universe arises and eternity slumbers.

Find a way there and rest.

Tomorrow is never promised but a selfless love is endless and will caress far beyond the nothingness.

-H. Murcia 7:45 PM 4/5/2023

#twcpoetry #writerscreed #inspireamuse #poeticstories #poetryportal #writingthestorm #my words #my prose #prose poetry #spilled ink #poetry #mortalghost #words #spilled words

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musingsatmidnights · 1 year

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slur

“how are you?”

when did that usually sweet and thoughtful question begin to sound like a slur to me? did it happen when depression and self-harm thoughts started to consume me at fifteen? or when i was spiritually astray at twenty? maybe when anxiety began eating me up since my mid-twenties?

i can’t remember exactly.

all i know is i go into a fight or flight or freeze mode whenever i get asked that question. i get defensive, my chest tightens, and my mind races whenever i hear it. and it’s because all my mind can conjure as a response is my life’s dysphoric events.

but now that i’m thirty, i’ve learned to hone in on my life’s blessings before responding. on the blessings that are happening to me at the time, both big and small. thinking of and giving a response are still difficult, and trying to be positive doesn’t work all the time. but i’m better in answering that question now than before.

how about you? how are you?

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somebadpoetry · 4 months

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It is January 4th and I look to my dog. I haven't been working out — my New Year resolution — and four days have passed me without progress. But he doesn’t even notice. He’s focused, not on what day it is, but on how to find the best patch of sun to sleep in. He cant comprehend "today", "tomorrow", "five years", "before you run out of time", "out of time". He only knows the now. It is day, and the sun coming through the window is warm, and the carpet is soft. The house is near empty, with only himself and myself here. the television is playing noise he doesn't care about, and the world moves ever on. He is alive, with someone he loves, and he is sitting in the sun.

#prose #mobile formatting #my prose

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judas-redeemed · 26 days

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there is something holy about the grocery store. like there is a version of everyone that only exists in this space. here, angels shrouded in snotty tissues and white pharmacist coats. here, ghosts of mothers reaching for their children's hands in the parking lot, now walking alone. here, an elderly woman telling me about how to check the cantaloupes, her unnecessary kindness a glistening fountain in the midst of a desert. all these strangers, all loved wholly by someone, and cherished in this moment by me. blessed be the tired stranger getting ready for dinner after another 9-5. blessed be the tomatoes and the bright fluorescent lights. blessed be the hanging herbs, the shelves of canned goods, and the basket to carry it all to a new place. blessed be the cashier that checks me out, who is just waiting to go home. blessed be all who are waiting to come home.

#on humanity #on love #judas talks #poetry #my poetry #writing #poem #poems #prose poetry #my prose #original prose #poets #prose poem #poet #poemas #poetic #original writing #writerscorner #my writing

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the-dose-makes-the-poison · 5 months

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Why do we behave so foolishly when it comes to love? I really don't know. I run to my own ruin with my eyes and my arms wide open. This little spark of defiant hope is enough for me to follow my feelings against all odds. And in that moment when I walk straight into the trap, I do it with a fierce smile on my lips, utterly convinced that I can outwit my fate …

— the-dose-makes-the-poison

#poetry #my poetry #my prose #spilled ink #crap poetry #romantic poetry #romantic prose #original poetry #my writing #mine #poetrylovers #poets on tumblr

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psychastria · 2 years

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simran, why darkness doesn't scare me

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writinn · 5 months

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love

Love, something that, us humans, crave for. It's a necessity for us, it's not just a want but also a need. Love is radiated in different ways, seen in different ways. It is unique to all individuals and yet we all know that the feeling is the same. Isn't it beautiful to think about?

Love is sometimes just a small detail you or someone you love remembers, it's the movie nights, the pranks, the time spent together, it is the food that you ate when were together whilst laughing and so it becomes your favourite meal. It is the causal teasing, the inside jokes. And of course, just their face is enough to brighten up your day. They are your sun and without them your world has a very monochromatic look that when you see them your eyes squint because you were in the dark for too long and now your little windows are trying to adapt due to the shortage of iodopsin from the longing of just seeing them. You are their moon in the shape of their heart providing comfort every time something goes wrong. Sometimes, love is temporary, only there to help you at the lowest points of your life and vanishing away like they were an angel for you. and at other times it is permanent, you see them, you have them rooted deep within your heart. They have penetrated deep within your auricles and ventricles and the roots and shoots of the plant they are growing provides you comfort.

Heck, sometimes love is just the idea of them, the memories they have given you. You daydream and daydream and you know, you love them when people notice you zoning out way too often. Sometimes you don't know that they are important to you and when they disappear like thin wind, you miss them. You long for them, you pray for them. You do everything for them. Different times, they don't want you in your life, and so you're heartbroken and not capable of moving on but you know, your love for them could be just letting them go knowing they are never coming back. That's brave honestly.

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penvibess · 2 years

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That feeling where you really want to talk to someone but you have no one to talk to. No one initiates a conversation, they just reply your texts and you feel like you're bothering them so eventually you stop texting people first and realise just how alone you truly are.

that type of loneliness.

#explore #writeblr #writing #wordsnquotes #self written #my prose #prose poetry #prose #lonliness #sadblr #sad writing #do you feel the same #sad post #quotes

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the-happy-princes-sketchbook · 1 month

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Umbilical Godhood

I found God

in the tissue of my inner cheek—

my teeth gnaw

in search of him.

How much blood and salivation

until my bone meets

bloodied salvation?

The roughness builds

in time with my sickly beating heart.

The walls thicken, the holy cheek blood

retreats

into the maw of my mother’s

obsession.

I exist only

in the length of her umbilical rope.

To her, I am as fatherless as Mary’s son,

and from her I was torn,

and she is God

and I am no one.

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vampirkit · 2 months

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AMY DEATHFIC!!! enjoy :))

Book: Bloodbound

Character: Kamilah x Amy (and sorta Gaius x Kamilah)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: Teen

TW: Major character death

Little sneak peak under the cut

Two millennia taught Kamilah Sayeed everything she knows: the best locations for daggers in her formal wear, the intricate details of each and every flower, and the perfect amount of blood to take before a human collapses.

It didn't prepare her, though, for the weight of her past—the constant building and pressing on her shoulders as the years tick by.

Sometimes she is sure she has lived too long, nothing is supposed to live this long. Other times, she knows this is her punishment. Whatever cruel thing pulling the strings cursed her with immortality, and keeps her alive to atone for the blood drowning her past. It’s all a matter of time, really, to be subject to the same fate she put so many others through. A cycle of bloodshed flowing through her fingertips. At first, she invited the rush of power, reveled in it; but now, she stands helpless as it punishes her defiance.

There was a time when Amy convinced her otherwise: among twinkling starlight and the soft, crashing waves, she insisted, “You deserve to be surrounded by love and happiness.” Moonlight cascaded over the girl’s features, and she looked so bright, so sure. For a moment, it had the vampire fooled.

Now, Amy lies as proof she deserves this.

Keep reading here

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #gaius x kamilah #gaius augustine #adrian raines #bloodbound #choices #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc lgbtqia #my prose

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