#writercorner

[ginadope]

ink and bone

Worlds upon worlds  And I still look too human Still, still — Between the god of resolve and the sun A lingering echo A dream of ink, both dissolving in water 

The little light fell to its death; A spark caught upon my lips, and I so Hoped for breath!  I thought that was why I had kept the bone dagger, But all that came out was, still, just blood

[thecoolestlosers111]

My toxic trait is that I think everything I write is divinely inspired and amazing but also refuse to share it with anyone irl because what if they think it’s bad

[theluciddragonfly]

You say you hanged your beautiful wings on the self. I know you intended to set them aside while you partake in his world. I’m here to tell you if you can’t walk through hell with those radiant wings still intact. Then the underworld is no place for you at all.

[sheluma]

When you're in that awkward in-between of wanting to write more, but you're also burnt out from writing.

[talkthrupens]

I buried those feelings, emotions,

endearment and vehemence

In a graveyard.

They pile up to make a person-

Made only of impalpable attributes

Too gullible to breach

Today's deception

I visit the graveyard often

To express my love

Because that's what

She liked

I buried her in a graveyard

In the void of my soul

She is a version on of me,

And, I still visit her;

To express my love

[sarkyhuman]

Breathe

We’re like Ocean, on the Surface it's all nice. The waves rolling, all calm, all riches. But the deep you go, in the down and out there lies the ugliness, all the scary parts. However, that’s where it's the most beautiful too, all the moments we like are alongside the scary ones, balancing it all out or sometimes not and that’s okay. Because, sometimes Ocean is not okay too, sometimes it lashes out too, it loses its calm to raging waves but then it's calm again. So breathe, even the deep dark dingy bottom of the ocean floor is alive and breathing.

[thatantiquemirror]

— The Confession

Someone told me, I stand amid a vigorous whirlwind of fiction and facts. Sometimes of remembrance, sometimes of ignorance. No one but you notice me in the midst of thronging crowd I drown always. Amusing how, when I reach the zenith of nothingness, you exactly know how to pull me out from that void of nothing. When I scavenge helplessly for the truth, when I get governed by nothing but lies, you put me in front of the harsh reality no matter how harsh it is, to show the true colours of everyone I loved once.

Thousands of unspoken words, yet you know what I meant. I could write five lines of poetry and a song of yearning but do you think It'd be enough to paint the hieroglyphics of unsaid emotions? Fifty skies I've gazed, yet five thousand more to gaze at, with you. to my moonlight monologue, you said the gods wrote you back but I think they dialed an eerie number from heaven's hotline.

[mesmerizing-words]

Astonishing right ?!.. You wake up one fine day to realise that you are no longer the person you were before and it feels good.

~growth