Poetry Sprouts In April

Lilie °Aspiring writer (currently writing a book) °Writblr of my unpoetic musings. Instagram || side blog || Pinterest

[27paperlilies]

I promise you it gets better.

A version of you somewhere in time and motion is smiling, eyes bright and heart full. Please wait to meet them, they have something to tell you.

When days are gray and mind in decay, close your eyes and picture another day. They exist I can assure you, new days with better beginnings and happy endings. All ahead of darkend times, the sunlight peeks golden in due time. Its going to be fine.

[27paperlilies]

I started this blog as a way to distract myself from difficult things in my life, and I found distraction, but most importantaly I found myself participating in purposefull action (which is vital when drowning in apathy).

This account gave me something to wake up to, I would post something most days and I felt something other than dread, I felt hopeful and not as alone (even if my four white walls said otherwise). I started alone and now there are over 1500 of you guys and you're all so lovely and kind, and i can't thank you enough.

One year on , I'm writing a book and I'm in a much better place, and i want anyone who is going through a hard time to know that it will get better. I promise. I don't know what you're going through, but I do know that the night doesn't last forever. Soon you'll see the sunrise, and it will be beautiful.

[daily-spooky]

[inkprilled]

The bad news is that it sometimes feels never ending and apathy whispers into your ear that this numbness is peaceful and to just sink into it's depths.

The good news is apathy is a cold filthy liar, they want you to drowned but they don't know that happiness is always around the corner, and it will yank you out of the water. I swear you will laugh so hard your sides start slitting and the pain will leak out of you. I swear you will sing and dance and feel something other than heavy numbness, the sunrise is golden and it burns, it heats up your heart until you feel like there's something to live for and it's just on the horizon. Wait for it. Please.

[xanaxfarts]

Lambert’s Bridge no. 77, also know as the snake bridge, on the Macclesfield Canal. location: Astbury Congleton, England

[inkprilled]

I don't let myself look up what my school friends are doing now, I'm afraid. Afraid I'll find pictures of a something I missed. I remember us at 11 crowded around a school library computer, you both looked up your favourite wedding dresses most of them mermaid and lacy white, you picked out our bridesmaids dresses and talked about how we would find a colour that at least looked good on us all; I thought powdered blue. I miss being that young, when the only worries where our homework and hoping we where first out for lunch. Maybe you did get married, maybe if I log in to my socials I'll find an invite. Or maybe time has changed too much, we aren't eleven anymore. I wonder if you picked powdered blue or a mermaid dress in lacy white, I wonder if something remains the same.

[cheruib]

save me first sip of mediocre coffee from a 1€ coffee machine on a cold foggy November morning.. save me

[inkprilled]

I know I don't say it enough and we joke about depression and how loneliness is eating up our lives, but it will be okay. I promise you it will.

[osplanetasdasabelhas]

Azulejos

Palácio Pimenta

Museu de Lisboa

Fotos cjmn

[inkskinned]

i don't know what else to tell you except to be brave and to be kind. take it day by day. go outside and watch the clouds paint the sky. call a friend.

we are still here, and furious. you are still here, and that matters. you can still do and make and be something important. i promise. stay alive. it matters, and you matter. i know it is easy to succumb to anxiety and exhaustion and defeat.

communities can start with tiny ideas. google "dnd meeting near me" or whatever your interest might be. google "volunteering near me." google "support groups near me." start journalling. start a discord. start a book club.

when you close your eyes and hear hamlet, answer his prayer: it's better still to be.

[ur-daily-inspiration]

[poppiesandpromises]

A chiffon rustle

A fading rose petal sky

& everything glows

[poppiesandpromises]

Questions are bitter

I want to be sweet— somehow

Silence still answers

[ur-daily-inspiration]

[inkprilled]

I was seven, but I didn't remember it until I was 13. It was almost a blessing that my mind hid it from me, it would have weighed my small spirit down before it had the chance to bloom. He visited throughout those 6 years and I would laugh at his silly jokes. I thought he was funny. Now not so much, the memory has tainted all the others. It has reset the tone of every interaction. It came back to me in the kitchen, we where both sat at the table and my mother was fiddling with pots and pans by the sink. I don't remember what we where talking about but I do remember the suddenness of remembering being seven with you in my room. I had never tried to picture what people meant when they said your life flashes before your eyes when you're dying. I felt like I was dying, a part me came clawing out of its hiding place and ripped me anew. My life didn't flash before my eyes but you did. One minute you where safe and funny, a blink later you were dangerous and slimy. I wanted you off my skin, but you had been clinging to me for 6 years and I didn't know where to begin. One thing I knew for sure is I had remembered. And you thought I hadn't.

[nosebleedclub]

What do you remember of that other world?

[27paperlilies]

So much and so little.

There always seemed to be death and pain on every corner. A child lost, a life stolen, there was no shortage of the broken.

But behind the agony and despair was glimpses of kindess and care. A child went missing and so the crowds formed, the alert spread far and wide "we will find you!" thousands cried. A life taken before its time, it would feel like such a pointless crime, and so the flowers where gently laid and the upmost respect was paid. But never did their memory fade, we carved it in stone placed above flesh and bone, in hope they would always be known.

There was beauty, it was gentle and kind but it was also bloody and broken. Now I carry it with me as a token.

[rubyleaf]

Honestly? My main piece of advice for writing well-rounded characters is to make them a little bit lame. No real living person is 100% cool and suave 100% of the time. Everyone's a little awkward sometimes, or gets too excited about something goofy, or has a silly fear, or laughs about stupid things. Being a bit of a loser is an incurable part of the human condition. Utilize that in your writing.

[hamcheesesammich]

what if my characters aren't just a little bit lame they are whole lot of lame? pretty much if lame was a person

[inkprilled]

I'd read if lame was a person running around doing lame, silly and dangerous things.

[hamcheesesammich]

pretty much just stay in the house all the time, stuck in their head, having random bursts of self-hatred and stuff like that.

[inkprilled]

kafka coded and would still read

[guiltrose-deactivated20180203]

do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.