#ceative writing

[frankensteins-mt-dew]

for some reason, I only have motivation to do something if I'm doing it for others, so....

reblog this if you would want/ need to read a story about mental illness that is also hopeful. A story about a chosen one that has saved the world before but needs to do it again and refuses to. A story about a hero that is courageous on the surface but breaks down once all eyes are off them. A story with multiple nerdy references, tools to help, a world that isn't too bright but not too dark, a place you'd want to never leave. Where the main character does not think they can handle and doesn't wnat any of the responsibilty thrust upon them, but they know that no one else will get the job done.

If that's something you want or need. Reblog this. And in the meantime, I'll get writing.

[thisiswhatiknow]

I planted seeds in you

I grew a garden full of roses and daffodils with your name on it.

Oh, silly me, my mama warned me not to plant flowers in people's yards who aren't willing to care for them.

My mama told me to keep men like you at a distance.

My mama told me true love will come to you,

True love will chase after you,

True love will grab you by your ankles like grapevines,

And have you feeling like God's grace is washing over you like the ocean.

True love will sing you every love song it's ever known to keep the peace.

And if it fails,

True love will build armies of men to fight for you,

True love will come and lay its head on your shoulder,

whisper in your ear,

"This is it, this is how it feels to be loved."

- b.n.e

[recommendedsongspoetry]

CAREFUL DETAIL

Poetry is like painting, masterpieces Must have the fine eye sculpting this beast The air must possess that fine quality Which justifies what the artist can see How your hair brushes over your green eyes And how your hips give way to beautiful thighs It makes me feel the purity of my Artistic vision, everything is mine This, I believe is the cause for great art For when I kiss your lips, feel your spirit I understand this vision is my start As you stand pretty, with my brush I sit

[authoroflittlemorethanthis]

De-traumtize: flashbacks - By Adrian MC 4/30/23 (Sun) 19:01 & 10/26/23

Some memories can prevail beyond even the strongest will to forget and day dreams can haunt the mind.

A gray-matter incantation evoked by the unintentional whispers of a hidden self.

A silent movement of the spiritual tongue and mouth that summons my terror by name and invites it to inhabit the psychic space between my eyes and the world before me.

So subliminal that I forget I'm hosting the disturbance and all of the unwelcome fragments of memory that are the cause of my mental discord.

Accordingly, my aura-musculature contorts and contracts as though responding to the tug of a barely visible -but undeniably present- puppeteers string. Second nature renames me "slave" as it commands for passive acceptance.

Did I know I could choose an alternative to the crisp portrait of Hell that commandeers my muses? Incarcerated by the ghost of a gaoler that I once thought was a gentleman in the cerebral cell that he’s convinced me has always been home?

Maybe I'm the specter who haunts these thoughts, so mesmerized by the life within them that envy has petrified my transition to the afterlife.

Post traumatic pro dramatic dead-man walking, dead soul talking.

Have those whispers been echoing all along? The reverberating chants that checked in just before I checked out, I just barely notice brushing past my astral-ear-drums when my repose collides with a breathless air of urgency.

Magnetic memory reverses it’s polarity, pushing my spirit away. Hurdle me back to my shame-filled architecture. Slam me back into my morpheein euphoria body dysmorphia.

God give me anybody but any body in “my” body to return to as I'm hurdled back into it, restore my blighted control panel rendered illegible by that illiterate-inconsiderate and his distant, barely-existent forced-familiarity (jamais vu-volé petite mort).

The philosopher's finger trap of a prison I was only just beginning to understand is now moot for the digression from there to here-in-a-heartbeat. I'm allotted no time even for cognitive whip-lash. I am Machine; my [dis]- function is automatic and engaged. The agency of choice entangled within the clockwork of my body's beating heart. My actions are adrenal; a carnal [de]-cadence.

Word from the author: At first, I was afraid, I was petrified. But now, I’m free and you will be too. Whoever “he” is -if he’s abusive- he’s nobody. Don’t let any ‘nobody’ convince you he’s somebody worth suffering for. You’re enough. God sees you and he loves you.

[shelterstudies]

❤❤❤Thank You ❤❤❤

Thank you for this milestone; this is a massive deal for me. I’m so grateful I have you to share my creative process. I am eternally thankful for your help in me reaching this milestone. I am lucky to have you.

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[deafeningcashdreamersoul]

Beyond …

Beyond the smoke and mirrors Beyond the madness You saw she needed to be loved

Beyond her insecurities Beyond her shyness You knew her voice wanted to be heard

Beyond the cynicism Beyond the trauma You saw she wanted to believe and be fixed

So You coaxed, encouraged, You never gave up patiently you waited

Until she emerged from within the confinements of her barriers And you watched as all traces…

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[kissiwaa]

In My Sky

I used to look up at you Gliding through the powder blue skies Your shadow flittering across my nest from time to time

Back then, my own wings were still young And I would pray them earnestly, grow grow

And they begun to grow you were still up there soaring ever so higher

Your shadow still flittered across my nest

Then I learned to fly Now I’m ready. Ready to soar with you I wanna show you the…

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[creativewriter93-blog1]

Dan and Lena

This was the day Lena had been waiting for. She couldn’t mess it up. Not this time. After some failed relationships and some even worse dates, she was ready to embrace this new opportunity. A few weeks earlier, while she was waiting for her train in the morning, a handsome young man approached her and introduced himself. She had fallen for him the moment she saw his eyes. The young man gave her a piece of paper on which he had scribbled his phone number and disappeared. For the next days, Lena could not eat nor sleep. All she could do was think about Dan. After three days she finally picked up her phone and called him, not knowing what to expect. They chatted until late in the morning about their passions, about the music they like and the food they eat. Before hanging up, he asked if he could meet her. Of course, Lena agreed. And now, there she was. Standing in front of this big and beautiful house. She had put on her blue dress. Dan liked that colour. She thought it went well with her red hair. She took all her courage and rang the bell. Immediately the door opened, slowly.

- Hi Lena. Come in. You look great. What a smile. What a man. She took some time to answer. - Thanks Dan. The lights in the house were dim. It made the living room make look comfortable. There was a fire burning next to the red couch. It was hot in there. - I bought some great bottles of champagne. I hope you like it. He reached her a cup of the expensive-looking beverage and she took a light sip. It prickled in her mouth and on her tongue. - It’s really good. She was lying. She had never liked the taste of champagne. After that, Dan brought the menu. Dish after dish, they enjoyed themselves. They laughed and they talked. She was feeling lightheaded from all the alcohol.