It's kinda funny, isn't it?

he/him side blog where I dump my writings

[plucked-out-feather]

Learning to live

I was supposed to die

Over 5 years ago now

And I'm not so sure

What I'm still doing here.

I suppose I'm here

So that I can watch

As the sun rises

Up onto the sky

I get to hear

The joyful chirps

Of birds in flight

And in the trees

I remain to make mistakes

So that I can learn

And so I can mourn

Cry my eyes out

I am here for my friends

To make them laugh

Drink tea in gardens

Give them little gifts

I draw silly pictures

And spill colours

From my brush

To show my heart

I keep walking

Though I am lost

And confused

Searching for meaning

I am alive

[the-hollow-quiet]

He was an old forest

trembling, waiting for

a spark.

@picklemafia poetry prompt “ignite”

[picklemafia]

This is a beautiful little poem! I love it! Wonderful writing! Thank you so much for participating in the prompt! @the-hollow-quiet

[mobstuffy]

Mob dancing

[lovelyalicorn]

@robinparravel @uhhmmmn @to-coyly-go

[plucked-out-feather]

He took all his love

Pushed it deep down

Into a crevice in his chest

Where it couldn't hurt him anymore

He swallowed every soft word

Their jagged edges scraping

Against the walls of his throat

Leaving behind a bitter aftertaste

He grasped each joyful memory

Bound their gentle wrists

Forced them out of  his head

I so he wouldn't see them again

He found a rough shoe brush

Scrubbed at every reminder around

'Till he was left in an empty house

Faded walls and cracked facade

Only once the canvas was clean

With all the tears dried

And most cracks mended

Did he dare pick up paint again.

[plucked-out-feather]

He took all his love

Pushed it deep down

Into a crevice in his chest

Where it couldn't hurt him anymore

He swallowed every soft word

Their jagged edges scraping

Against the walls of his throat

Leaving behind a bitter aftertaste

He grasped each joyful memory

Bound their gentle wrists

Forced them out of  his head

I so he wouldn't see them again

He found a rough shoe brush

Scrubbed at every reminder around

'Till he was left in an empty house

Faded walls and cracked facade

Only once the canvas was clean

With all the tears dried

And most cracks mended

Did he dare pick up paint again.

[plucked-out-feather]

Two Scenes, Four Years Apart

A girl sits on the bottom stair, clutching a paper in her hands.

On it are scribbled words in a wide array of cheerful colours, each sentence written by a different hand. They proclaimed sentiments the owners of the hands felt towards the girl. "You're so cool!" "A very lovely person :)" "Thanks for all the fun" "I like you!! Let's stay in touch" and many others in the same vein.

The paper was creased where she clutched it, a few words smudged where her tears had fallen.

She had added such thoughts to the papers of others, but had tried to avoid people writing on hers. A few managed to catch her off guard  though.

Sobs wrecked her chest as she crumpled the paper of lies. No one thought about her. If they did, it wasn't in a positive light. So these all had to be lies. Placantcies, to make her feel better. None of it true.

Lies, Lies, Lies.

-~*~-

A young man sits on the couch in the hallway, a little after ten in the evening, sorting many little papers in his lap, each one bearing the messy scrawl of a young child. "Thanks for the help!" "You're amazing" "To the best person ever" and many others in a similar vein.

He carefully moved them one by one, first into little piles based on size, then based on the nature of the sentiment, then based on which child he thinks wrote these to him.

A single tear escapes his eye and slips by the edge of his smile.

[plucked-out-feather]

All these years by my side

Your words in my head

Your hand in mine

Pulling me back

Keeping me stationary

Rooted in place

Enveloped in your essence

Now it's time for me to find out

Who I can be without you

I know you didn't mean me harm

I know you were trying

To keep me safe

To prevent hurt and heartbreak

But in the end

The only thing causing me pain

Was your words

Was your actions

Was your visions

Was you

But now I'm finding out

Who I am without you

[plucked-out-feather]

You take a couple deep breaths, wipe your palm on your pant leg and wipe your tears with your sleeve, then you pull yourself up until you are standing again.

You brush yourself off and set off again, marking put a path in the grass with each step you take.

The darkness seems a little lighter.

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

It hurts. It hurts so much. The tears fall down your face. It hurts. A sob wretches itself out of your chest. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts...

You stay sitting right where your fell. Eventually, the grass around you grows tall, taller than your head, blocking out any light there might have been. The darkness swallows you.

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

You grit your teeth and keep climbing. The swarm buzzes on around you, but you don't do anything to provoke it even further. You just keep climbing.

Eventually, the fuzzy pinpricks of darkness get bored. One by one, they leave, until the only things remaining is you, the ringing wind, and the impossibly tall mountain.

You keep climbing.

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

You suppose that there is nothing else to do, not other way to go. You continue forward. It doesn't feel all that much different than what you were doing before.

After some time walking, you notice that your footsteps are a bit dulled, compared to before. You look at the ground and notice it is covered in blades of soft grass. It sways lightly in a cool, pleasant breeze.

You continue walking, feeling a bit lighter, with a spring in your step.

A little time later, you glance back and notice that the grass was compressed where you stepped, almost marking out a path.

As you weren't paying attention where you were going, an unexpected rock found its way underneath your foot. You stumble and fall. Your knee is scraped and so is your palm, as you put it put to protect yourself. A drop of blood swells up on the broken skin. The sudden pain brings sharp tears to your eyes. It hurts. Badly.

[keep going]

[stay down]

[plucked-out-feather]

You turn to the right and start walking.

It doesn't feel all that much different than  what you were doing before, but at least you're not just going forward now.

As you walk, you notice a shape in the distance. You speed up.

The closer you get, the clearer it becomes. Finally you're close enough to tell what it is.

A mountain, with sharp stone jutting out of its rocky walls, reaching so high up that you can't see the top.

You walk for a while more until you stand at its base.

You eye a few of the jutting out stones, reaching for one. It's cold, but sturdy. You place your foot onto another rock. It holds your weigh without problem.

You start climbing.

One stone after another, up and up, until you can't see the ground anymore.

Your palms are sore. You ignore it.

Wind rings in your ears and messes up your hair. You ignore it.

As you reach up for your newest rocky handhold, a small fuzzy pinprick of darkness whizzes past your head, buzzing infuriatingly. You ignore it.

It whizzes around your hand, as if it were trying to irritate you. You ignore it.

Another one whizzes by. You ignore it.

They. Just. Keep. Coming.

As you continue your climb, more and more show up, whizzing by and buzzing.

You grith your teeth and clench your eyes shut and clutch each rock you hold with nearly enough strength to crumble it and kick at the mountain's surface in frustration.

[swat at them]

[ignore them]

[plucked-out-feather]

You grit your teeth and keep climbing. The swarm buzzes on around you, but you don't do anything to provoke it even further. You just keep climbing.

Eventually, the fuzzy pinpricks of darkness get bored. One by one, they leave, until the only things remaining is you, the ringing wind, and the impossibly tall mountain.

You keep climbing.

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

You've had enough. You hold onto the rocks with one of your hands and use the other to swath at the fuzzy mass of darkness. The motion makes it buzz sharply. It dispenses for a moment, before regrouping and flocking around you, buzzing even louder. You keep swatting your arm all around, but it just excites the swarm more and more.

As you reach out further, you feel your hand holding onto the rock slip. You lose your hold and start plunging down, leaving the buzzing swarm behind.

You fall into the deep darkness.

The wind rings in your ears.

It's deafeningly quiet. 

You don't know when your body will hit them ground.

You don't know if it ever will.

You keep falling until the darkness completely overwhelms you.

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

With one final powerful thrash, you lunge yourself as far as possible out of the tangle trying to pull you underwater and swim away as fast as possible.

After a while of nothing happening, your racing heart calms and your breathing returns to normal. No more tendrils of darkness come.

You continue on.

You hope to reach the other shore soon.

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

There's more dark tendrils than you could ever hope to fight off, even if you hadn't been tired out from swimming for such a long time before.

You give up.

Something wraps around your arms.

Something wraps around your legs.

Something wraps around your neck.

It pulls you down.

The water closes around you.

Down, down, down.

You can't breathe.

Your lugs fill with liquid.

It keeps pulling you down...

[the end]

[plucked-out-feather]

You turn to the left and start walking.

It doesn't feel all that much different than what you were doing before, but at least you're not just going forward now.

As you walk, you notice a new, strange sound each time you make a step. A sort od splash. You look down and see a faint sheen covering the ground around your feet.

You continue on.

The splashing gets louder and louder. The water now reaches your ankles.

You continue on.

The water goes up to your knees. It's starting to get hard to kedp your balance.

You continue on

The water lines up with your waist. It is very cold.

You continue on.

When the water reaches your elbows, you take the plunge and start swimming. It's more tiring than, but also much faster. You hope to reach the other shore soon.

Your feet can't reach the ground.

You continue on.

Something brushes tour leg.

You shrug it off as a figment of your imagination.

Something brushes your leg. Something brushes your arm. Something wraps around your ankle.

You kick your leg, freeing it from whatever grabbed it.

Something wraps around your hand. Something wraps around your knee.

You kick and trash, but more and more keep coming. For every body part you free, three more are wrapped, with no stop in sight. You're exhausted.

[surrender]

[keep fighting]