And the world said 'i love you' @sunshine-snippets - Tumblr Blog

Bright lights and flashing signs.

Neon shouts of lookatme lookatme lookatme, don't you see you're mine?

How does one rest with such vibrant distress? How does one wind down with time spinning you around?

A trapped mistress to the chorus of attention, quarter for your thoughts- though the value depreciates.

Dime, nickel, nothing but a cent.

Flashing lights in your brain, nothing's the same, look back ten, twenty, the answers are shocking and slimy.

Yearn for the forest, to rest in the breeze, letting me be at peace.

Nothing screaming at me.

I crave absence of what has become, away from the cries of the young.

Want my voice to have weight in the paid silver sleight.

The world moves quick ahead, leaving me behind in its stead.

Forgotten, lost, worthless, a victim of the circus.

Still I sit down, though my tightrope tilts, and I close my eyes, and the world around me stills.

#A poem i helpfully titled: I fucking hate instagram reels #poems #if all of the internet keeps being centered on stealing your attention i'm going to exxplode #its gotten bad enough i'm writing poems about it chat #this is bad. we're in the rough of it

The World (From A Pigeons Perspective)

The sky is so bright, so vast.

I love the trees, though they're getting fewer, but when they're there, there's so many.

Sometimes people give me bread crumbs.

It makes me sick but I know they mean it with kindness.

After all, I know they love me, I know it in my bones, my DNA, that they love me, that I was meant to be near them.

Some run at me and I scurry away, but I go back all the same, I'm so hungry, the cement digs into my feet, callusing them.

I go home, my nest of scrounged twigs surrounded by sharp metal, and that too is evidence of their love. It so perfectly holds my nest and my eggs, and I fall asleep knowing this is where I'm supposed to be.

My egg is so fragile, I try to do what I can to keep it warm and secure, but I don't know how to nest, but it's okay, I make due. And when the egg is hatched, we’ll be happy.

And we'll fly in the sky together

And I will know the world is filled with love, because I was brought here on purpose.

#writing class snippets

"I am not meant to be the cause" they retorted sharply

"Maybe you aren't," They breathed, "Maybe you are" they shrugged "but things are going to change regardless. “You don't have to be afraid of the inevitable"

They paused, the words sinking in slowly like a faucet, one drip at a time.

"..I think, I've seen too much 'inevitable' to not be afraid," they whispered.

"I know.. but one day, it'll grow tiring, being afraid all the time," they offered a kind look, one filled with a softness they didn't know if they deserved "Being upset your existence made a dent where it wasn't supposed to,"

"..Yeah, I know."

because they did.

"Change will happen whether you make it or not,"

"..I wish it wouldn't" they exhaled

"I know"

#writing class snippets

Fixation

Gripping bloodied gore with pearly teeth

Biting and tearing until nothing remains

Shaking your head like a dog with a toy

And that's exactly what it is, isn't it?

Shake, shake, shake, tug. Bite and chew until there is nothing left but stuffing

Moving on and forgetting the toy ever existed

But there is still stuffing between your teeth

And that's evidence in itself.

#writing class snippets #poetry #and once again it's about minecraft

Saw a video

Of two little birds

Puffed up and side by side

Sitting on a bicycle peddle

While it snowed

Keeping warm

There's a metaphor there

And yet all I can imagine

Is those two birds

Riding a bike.

#writing class snippets #poetry

He watched as the world's journey began its ending, coming to a close before his eyes, time snatched and returned void,

The clock ticking towards zero, in a soundless rhythm on the horizon

It would repeat soon, he- he wouldn't have to worry, Soon the clock would restart, and the listlessness would be taken from him once again, no longer blase,

Once again he'd be able to hold onto the world,

He just wishes he had a memento, a sanguine trinket to latch onto,

Too bad.

The clock struck its last second.

#writing class snippets #this was written a year ago with a prompt but actually it aligns so well with Ajax and the whole Ouroboros protocol now #i love seeing my old writing that now has new meaning #its so fun!

"The sun is setting.."

"I know, it always does, but it comes back,"

"What if it doesnt? What if this time- it sets and then it just stays gone, it never comes back-"

"It'll come back"

"How can you always be so.. sure?"

"Becuase I know him, he can't stay, but he'll always come back,"

"..."

"The sun will set, and fall will be here, and then it will rise, and spring will come quicker then you ever suspected,"

"That seems impossible"

"It does, but thats part of it, you just have to trust him,"

"...The sun will come again."

"The sun will come again."

#writing class snippets

The Sparrow

There is a sparrow that sits in my grandparents tree,

Waiting for them to put out the finch food and for the clean water to fill the bird bath

Brown and mean to the small finches fluttering about, and yet I still can't help being taken

With this little bird, as I sit and watch, separated by but a window

The world is big,

And the world is this moment.

Does it know it too?

#writing class snippets #poetry

Summer

There is the tale tell sign of summer in the overtaking of sound, fans blasting till they are all you can hear.

You look up to the ceiling, blankets abandoned off to the side, making up a dozen stories, replaying your day until it too is fiction.

Sweat coatings, tired eyes blinking.

Music and humming, cicada chirps that you can never see the end of, fan's and everything of the like,

You look up, awoken from a warm night's dream that escapes you the moment you try and grasp it, slipping out of your hands like a quick fish escaping into a river, and the sky is light, not quite sunrise nor true day, but it is still light.

You expect the chill, and instead it is warm and the humidity sticks to your skin.

And it is summer.

And you take a breath.

And go back to bed.

#writing class snippets #poetry

The Ghost They Remember

I think often, about the people who met me once, twice maybe, and those I've known for so long but lost contact with one or two forevers ago,

I think about a dozen questions I'll never get answers to, and a hundred that I'll never be confident in assuming as true

And I think about the fact that the version of me they met is gone,

Do they know? Stumbling across the information as suddenly as the realization

Or do they still think of me and see the corpse that has been dragged and buried under the earth with my own two hands

Do they remember the ghost? A shape they'd remember more then I do?

I think about it often, and yet still, maybe the body is buried for a reason, and maybe they were to be the few memories it was buried with, a coffin of childhood I can let go.

#had a dream about the person this poem was made with in mind so figured it was a sign to post it somewhere #trans poetry #poetry #the cold one writes #trans

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Kaleidoscope Tattoo Artist Au?? woah

#fable smp #fable smp kaleidoscope

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

silly fic!! silly fic of Ulysses yelling at Fable!! enrichment

#fable smp

Plastic home

They say the hermit crabs aren't choosing as they did

Beaches lined with litter and pollution

They hide as they always have, with their new environment

Taking anything hard

Now bright and colorful,

Supposed to stand out with it, but aware of how camouflaged they actually are

The beaches changing,

Them changing with it

They say they don't know the effect it has on them

Another tick on the box of ‘looking into it’

Another animal changed.

#read all about it: local guy got fixated on one of my long time favorite animals and now here to say:#climate change and pollution? awful actually! i know unheard of take /j /lh #but hermit crabs are just such lovely animals and it really is heart breaking how mistreated they are and how much their affected #the way their often spotted with stray plastic in lue of shells is devastating their such cool animals :[#poetry #crabs #at this point i dont know what counts as poetry but hey- its my tagging system- this is fine-

herm,y crab

Gliding across the sand

Water shoving against, little claws

Body protected,

Munching on plankton, kelt, fish

Anything a little mouth can

Little crab, getting a hardy meal

#writing class snippets #poetry #crab #red wheel barel type beat becuase i thought it would be funny #but hermy crab!!!#writing blog? no hermit crab fan blog

Hermit crab industry

Picked off the shore

A place they’ve always been

Plucked off the shore, as if they’ve never been there before

Childhoods of scouring, belittled by markets

By boardwalks, by beachsides

Little scuttles, natural shells, taken away,

Replaced by paint, by shine, and shimmer

Childhoods replaced,

But hey, whats a little glimmer?

#writing class snippets #crabs #poetry #the industry makes me so devastated actually

Solitary

Hermit crabs do their best in groups, a fact contrary to even their name but still true, and still solid

Those little crabs scuttling around together, perched in the small pools of water the tides had stuck between the rocks, settling together

Yet they were called hermits.

Making sense, with their unique home on their back, and yet very little because of their actions

How often are things labeled as solitary for choosing safety even when they yearn for contact?

Hermit crabs are known for being less defensive with others, in high shell availability, the cluster bringing a little solace,

Hermit crabs are social creatures

And yet their labeled otherwise.

#crabs #poetry

Hand-me-downs

To a hermit crab- small and prone to hiding, do you think the snails that came before are mystical?

The animals whose life provide shelter so strong they evolved to coincide with it, taking over the abandoned shells.

Do you think they know where their shells come from? wonder if others had worn it first, before outgrowing it too,

Hand-me-downs of shelter?

The snails still live and breathe, still slink under the water, hidden under any rock you flip over along the beachy shore

But do you think hermit crabs see the home on their back, so similar, and make the connection?

Aware they are the same, The crab taking a place that was not made for them, but they fit in snugly nonetheless

Do you think the crab hesitates for a moment when they have to shed their shell and get a new one, too tight,

Too tight, but the other option being vulnerability

And do you think they look back to the snails before them, before creating their conga line of shells

Passing around the hand-me-downs just as they always would.

#crabs #poetry

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And the world said 'i love you'