the wordy pumpkin

i wanna write more so yes here we go

[thewordypumpkin]

Introduction Post

hi! my name is aubrey... I’m 18, and I write. I guess that’s kinda the point of this blog, so if you’re here you’d probably know that already.

I write short stories, about dear friends who make my life what it is, about my girlfriend who I love and live for, I write poems about worlds and characters I made up, about the people in my life, to the people in my life, sometimes I write letters, things I say, need to say, can’t say, I write about anything and anyone I love, all the things I think about, stories I think need to be written, I just write. I like writing.

I take requests, so you can send me a message or an ask anytime and we can talk, and if you just want to hang out you can always text me.

for trigger warnings, i tag tw:_____ and you can message me to add if you need any and I’ll start

tags: I tag my poetry wordypoempkins

I tag my short stories wordypumpkinstories. 

I tag my thoughts pumpkinthinks

I tag photography and videos as pumpkinwithcamera

I tag anything I’m just saying with pumpkinspeaks

I tag things not by me with notpumpkin 

people who shouldn’t interact: 

racists, homophobes, sexists, pedophiles, if you consider yourself a conservative please leave my blog at once. you’re not welcome here. 

I hope you guys like what you read and I hope you guys like me 

(Quick note: my theme is by @enchantedthemes who deserves all the love her themes are beautiful)

[cruellesummer]

Eras Tour Posters Series: 3/52

Las Vegas, NV: Night 1

[flowerytale]

William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825–1905), Biblis (detail)

[flowerytale]

Charles Dickens, from “Great Expectations”

[alliwanttodoiscollectpoetry]

Disdain Returned ~ Thomas Carew

[thewordypumpkin]

i feel like i was made to be something else and then formed into something else I don’t know if it was environment or pressure or happenstance or even if it was myself but I know what I am now isn’t what I was supposed to be because it doesn’t feel right I’m a loud person who has trouble being loud what a fuck up of life and space how did this stupidly useful useless thing come to be

If I’m not good at what I’m good at what am I then a useless piece of mass and matter created purely for the reason of being reasonless purpose undefined what matters in something when something does not matter

I have a long long long long memory it’s exact it’s detailed it’s a shitty habit to keep but I keep it anyway because I’m shitty at not being shitty whenever I feel I’ve failed myself I look at my watch and I remember the time and date of when that was and I have so many times and dates I don’t even remember what each one means anymore and maybe that’s something that should make it seem better but it doesn’t it doesn’t make it better because when I used to remember it was better now it’s worse because there’s so many of them it’s just this never ending loud noise in my head numbers and months and failure after failure so many you can’t keep track what trash piece of human being must you be that you fail yourself that much can you really not keep yourself from it

the answer is the failure has piled because of my initial failure to not rupture my sense of self in all the notes I began to tuck into the little folds of myself notes about how to talk and think and hold my person until the folds began unfolding and now look where I am unfolded

sorry

that entire rant was selfish as fuck

im sorry

[thewordypumpkin]

I’m so afraid all the fucking time

Something aches bad

I don't know anything right

I’m scared of myself

I don’t like to listen to my thoughts

This ceiling knows me well

I stare at it constantly

I wonder if it’s afraid of me

Or if it sees something

When I stare at it

I don’t see anything

But I hear things

I like to pretend it’s talking to me

Because otherwise

that would mean I’m saying

horrible things to myself

and that can’t be

I must be okay

[unstablemotions]

fragile, little creature, ignore the blood dripping from your mouth. be strong or die

[unstablemotions]

it’s not fair at all. i was a child. a child doesn’t deserve that

[unstablemotions]

outsider

[traumartist]

let me be clean again.

[peoplecallmelucifer]

\Isles of Midnight/

The Midnight Isles sky is a site to behold A heaven and haven for all the seafolk Years and years unending Stars never let them stray With no Clouds nor Sun to hide their way

So the ships keep sailing Under the Moons and the stars From the Ever lost shores And way past the southern plains No one knows where the night might end

The seafolk will tell you it ends in a city Forever at the edge of dawn Set on the fairest of islands And a belltower engulfed by sun

[thewordypumpkin]

december

It’s our last day the middle of December

You try to kiss me twice I stop you hands on your shoulders

All I can think is don’t hurt yourself don’t fall for her

I’ve never been this afraid of anything ever

I’m so scared you’ll figure me out

What if I let you know me

It’s our last day the middle of December

Standing in a hidden crook of the mall drinking soju together

You hand me the bottle and challenge me to finish it

I drink fast because you’re prettier than I can admit

I shouldn’t find you so pretty I can’t do this to myself

I’m realizing I can’t help but think you’re beautiful and that scares me

Drinking makes me braver than I usually am

and I flirt and I try like I don’t give a damn

But I stop just shy of asking for you

I’m a coward it’s not anything new

I want you I want you I want you

I need you I need you I need you

I’m so scared I’m so scared I’m so scared

I keep flirting then pulling back before it happens

Because if it does and we do well what then

I can’t fall I can’t do that to myself again

And If it doesn’t and we don’t I really don’t want to lose a friend

do you want me too do you want me too

what do I do if you do

It’s our last day the middle of December

I’m laughing in your ear and I let myself forget her

I go home and I lay in bed deleting texts

Maybe I’m actually ready for what’s next

[thewordypumpkin]

poem 2 series 1

CONCEPT: You two are at a house party and you came together with friends but it doesn’t change anything. She hasn’t looked at you all night, maybe she doesn't want anyone knowing, except for during the drive over when she said you look pretty. You don’t mind. You don’t want to deal with that tonight, you talk to your other friends, flirt with a few girls, maybe it’ll be fine. You’re doing better at letting her go these days, maybe—and then It’s 10 o’clock and it’s way too early to go home but she’s pulling you to the bathroom and that’s it. You know nothing’s ever going to pull you away from her orbit at this point.

And you lean back, an arm over your eyes

Who do you think you’re fooling pretending those are just sighs

You come clawing at the fabric of my shirt on my shoulder

The floor beneath me gets just that much colder

It’s over now, underwear in purse, you’ll leave this bathroom first

And I’ll stand for a minute or two remembering the way you cursed

I move to stand but you push me back down and my knees hit the floor

The way you’re looking at me I know you’re asking for one more

The way your skirt is at your waist it’ll wrinkle and everyone will know

I don’t want them to but the way you ask I can never say no

So I put a hand on your stomach and push real gentle

The way you say my name it’s absolutely mental

You tilt your chin up and swallow hard your neck looks divine

When you do things you know I like it makes you feel like mine

Tense your thighs, you’re doing what you know turns me on

You know I won’t be able to stop thinking about you from now till dawn

You come again I don’t even remember how I got you there

I stand and you pull at the car keys on my waistband it’s not fair

Because after things like this I’ll take you anywhere

When you play like this all I can do is stare

for more

[thewordypumpkin]

killers part 1.5: interlude

CONCEPT: My best friends and I are sadistic witches who feed off the energy of death and we murder the people in our lives who have hurt us. Life is simpler like this.

BREAKFAST: THE APARTMENT: THE NEXT MORNING

"Oh," Lara hums softly from the couch, she's in her pajamas still and idly eating a bowl of cereal.

"Hmm?" I prod from the kitchen where I'm making pancakes.

"They've found the body already," she says, putting the bowl down and leaning back against the cushions.

I stop for a moment, "Is it that bad?" I ask, already planning our next move.

She stills, then laughs, "No, no I'm sorry I worried you—I was just surprised by how quickly they found it. His parents aren't supposed to be home for, like, another day or two."

"He's rich," Annika says from the doorway of her bedroom, which I didn't even notice had opened, "they get away with everything."

I snort, "Not this time," I mutter, placing the plate on the counter, "come get breakfast."

She smiles thankfully at me and I place a syrup bottle on the table for her.

"Turn the news up," I say, and then Julienne comes stumbling out of her bedroom, bleary-eyed and sleepy still, "good morning."

"Why are we watching the news?" She asks, nose scrunching up with disdain, "are we that bored today?"

"They found Ortega's body already," Annika says through a mouthful of pancake.

"Does that mean we can't kill again tonight?" Julienne asks, looking annoyed already.

I shrug, "We don't know yet," I say, and then the TV interrupts conversation.

It seems that the suspects are five large men who have organised crime ties.

"Well," I say, in the silence that suddenly engulfed us, "they couldn't be farther from the truth."

"So," Lara chimes in, "Janro?"

for more

[thewordypumpkin]

Home Song Part 1

I should’ve planned the service for dusk, Jackie thinks to herself, it’s still light out, she  acknowledges distantly. It feels like it should be dark by now, like the sky should be orange and  dimming already but it’s not. It’s bright and blue and she hadn’t even noticed until now, because  the night had made its presence so looming it felt like it was already there.  

It’s still early, she knows, so she stands and pretends to ignore the soft ground swallowing  up her shark-tooth heels. It hasn’t rained recently, so the ground shouldn’t be so easy to break  into but as she eyes the six foot deep hole not even 5 yards away she can understand falling apart  that easily.  

She understands better than she should.  

The people are waiting, they’re checking their watches and shifting uneasily, in a manner  she’d describe as impatient if she could believe people to be that cruel, because she ruined their  day. They have better things to do than attend a funeral at 9 am, they’ve got lives and  appointments outside of her loss. She’d be angry if she weren’t so numb. She has nothing else  for today, she could stand here for hours and no one would stop her. There’s nothing outside of  this.  

She takes a few more steps, as though the earth wasn’t trying to pull her in, as though she  weighed nothing more than she usually did.  

She ignores the feel of phantom hands on her shoulders urging her forward and takes the  mic offered to her. Under the onslaught of stares redirecting to press themselves insistently into  her cracks and crevices she ducks her head, the veil of her funeral hat falling into her eye line.  She doesn’t bother moving it away because it’s easier to avoid the probing gazes when it’s like  this.  

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” She asks into the microphone, because it’s easier than  asking the crowd, “the sky is blue, the grass is green, the trees they’re-” she swallows roughly,  looking to the side to observe the branches that look like they’re reaching for her now, “they’re  so alive.”

for more

[thewordypumpkin]

disney love part 1

CONCEPT: my girlfriend and I are finally away from all the shit we’ve gone through and she and I are at Disney Land having fun and being in love. life is easy and we’re happy.

I groan as Julianne tugs my hat lower over my face making it so I almost can't see. "Really baby?"

"You burn easy," she murmurs, concentrating on fixing my get up, then she smiles, hands dropping from my cap down to my cheeks. My stomach suddenly feels empty and my lungs go still. When she smiles like that, it means she's about to kiss me. Six years in and it still feels like this when she leans in. If I read this in a book I'd say the main character (me) was being ridiculous. This is ridiculous.

I grin against her lips, "You're ridiculous."

"I love you," she says back, like it's a comeback. It isn't, but we both know she won.

"I love you," I respond. When I look up at her, the rims of our caps clash together. We're standing close together even though there's at least half a metre of space on every side of us. In our defence, it's not just us being lovey-dovey. I'm too short to reach the handles of the train but I can reach her so I just have my hand wrapped around her forearm. It works. We work.

I squeeze on her arm a little, and then the train lurches to a stop and my chest tumbles and turns. I turn to look and—

"We're here," she breathes out into my hair. When the train stopped she stepped up to wrap herself around me, so I wouldn't stumble. Because of course she did, because this is the girl I fell in love with. Every instinct she has goes for protecting me always.

I rest my hand over hers, which is suddenly on my waist. I go to move forward but she pulls me tighter against her. "Let them go first, baby," she says, as the passengers push forward and out. Of course. Protective as ever. I bite back a smile and check out the view through the Mickey Mouse ear shaped windows.  

"We'll be here until the train leaves if we do," I complain, but stand still. When enough people have gone and the trickle of passengers has slowed, and she's apparently decided that it's safe enough, she pushes forward, intertwining our fingers easily.

"We need to get a map," she says, immediately making for the little stand of brightly coloured brochures.

"No," I say, dragging the word out into a whine, "let's get lost in The Happiest Place On Earth."

"We will get lost," she says, smiling and raising an eyebrow at me, "you know that, right? Really lost." I smirk, running a hand down her arm and looking her up and down, "then let's get lost." Something changes in her eyes, "Baby," she says in admonishment, but she's weak against me, always is. I'm so in love with her.

"I'm kidding, love," I say, and I can see she's warring between disappointment, relief, and exasperation. I make the decision for her, pulling us forward to grab one of the maps, "I'm not insane. This place is huge," I smile, and there it is. Amusement, infatuation, the look you see in someone when they're helplessly in love.

You're my best friend, I think to myself, squeezing her hand.

Finally she just rolls her eyes and grabs another two maps and stuffs it into the backpack we've brought, "We'll lose that one," she says when I look at her with questioning eyes, "bet."

She's right, so I let her.

for more