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the novel had no ending revisions piled on revisions he turned to poetry then hoping for a few stark lines but saw a poetry event the poet editing as they spoke in a book already published

#poetry #poem

stretched too far past breaking the meta a four becomes a five a six seven eight eating nine until nothing remains at all

#poetry #poem

and the toy that was destroyed paved the way for another to be added to an overflowing box – a metaphor but also the way of the world

#poetry #poem

the monsters did not wear suits and ties not always sometimes a concerned friend sounding almost sensible in terrible views testing the limits of the world casually with half-truths passed off as only joking waiting for your laughter as an admission waiting for proof you were the same as them not needing bites nor blood nor charm to infect another and another and another

#poetry #poem

Signs a game session went off rails....

A throwaway line about the Muppets led to them being a major plot point in an attempted assault from outside space and time orchestrated by some quite angry fae.

The 'entity' was banished to a Ferris Wheel with very, very bad associations.

The only part that went even a little as planned was a discussion about a grandmother stuck in hell, which led to someone discovering that having the liver of a nephilim makes ones unable to get into any afterlife.

... also dice rolls were so bad across the board that I was relieved when one PC pushed their power to give everyone a needed boost in the next session.

#game1 #besm #games get weirder than intended #LOLAD

the lies were easily wrapped in truth every wrapping is meant to conceal presents that Santa never bought you gifts that were second-thought at best

#poetry #poem

The hero sighed a little as mana burned in her palm. Reborn again. Too powerful, again. She resisted the urge to scream, then paused as the mana dissipated into nothing. A world without magic. Finally. Maybe this time she could have a normal life.

Maybe this time the nameless gods would be kind.

#writing #prose #tiny bits

i kept your picture in my wallet not understanding how we'd grown apart but you said it was simple with a smile so bitter it felt like a stranger you said i loved the person you had been in the photo and not the person that you were now that we put make pictures of those we love and hold them tighter than the real person and i wanted to sat you were wrong but they were crow's feet and hair i did not remember and I looked at you seeing someone i almost didn't know and i whispered sorry but it was a whisper and far too late at all

#poetry #poem

the change wasn’t coins banished for reasons economic so credit was left lightly dystopian all that changed remained the same

#poetry #poem

i wrote three poems about the Nothing trying to grasp where you were & why you’d left us

#poetry #poem

“Honour is a weakness we can’t afford,” he said briskly, and the new recruits stared in horror.

Well. They were new. They’d learn.

#writing #prose #tiny bit

the bully kicked sand in his face she said: ‘don’t let it bother you’ ‘a real man would stop it’ unsaid

and at home he gambled (taking money from his stepdad’s wallet) one stamp and a single free book

the book taught him many things that nothing was ever truly free the only muscles are in the brain

the book spoke words with him he became the hero of the beach by making a Door into Carcosa

#poetry #poem

the rain was a promise that the world changed he said smug with truth forgetting about floods and storm drains and how too much truth could ruin as easily as far too many lies

#poetry #poem

the world was never quiet trying to sleep we built walls with all our wishes hoping for safety from monsters lurking without but the world changed always moving (even now) and protection became something far less certain beliefs become subscriptions and the world outside waits with older truths by far

#poetry #poem

it was a night of broken sounds, wind an instrumental howl shutters rattled as if vampires pulled on them, thunder growled as if monsters waited outside my stomach a hungry howling. but you said it was only a storm that nature sometimes brings prayers did nothing as they beat the air, circles of salts scattered the wind did howl and the storm did wail and the roof was battered. rain washed away the life we’d built and the only monster that came was the insurance company claiming acts of gods they would not name and everything sacred felt profane as we left those lives behind and never again did I fear a monster or draw a single yellow sign

#poetry #poem

every year the world could shrug winter off like an old tattered coat so we tried to do the same thing and yet we stowed away far more than we shrugged off burrowing old wounds for the next season acting surprised as they sprout up the world turns; memory does not the past festers in dreams and hope gone rancid while spring springs wildly from tree to animal to sky we cannot let go and it is a strength that is as weak as any other kind

#poetry #poem

the genie always granted three wishes the kind ones kept a secret fourth hidden waiting for the wish to undo the harm that the previous wishes always caused

#poetry #poem

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