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mortalghost

Nights bring memories of longing

For a touch that won't come.

While the world slept

I dreamt of desires

Sinking deeper into their secrets.

I coveted all that I could

While leaving so much of me

That I never thought I would.

Through the realms of possibilities

I closed my eyes and prayed.

Where were you to guide my destiny

While I waited to fade away.

-H. Murcia 6/3/2026 8:26 AM

#mortalghost #writerscreed

versegold

IV - Wear

Sometimes a fan.

Folds full of words.

For this one. For that one. For the others.

Open. Close.

The letters tremble.

The material gives way.

Too often.

No cooling. No calm.

Open. Or closed.

#versegold #writerscreed

sedehaven

Whispers to the Ocean

What secrets could I keep from you?

My body full of salt and water, blood

pulsing like your currents, bones like

reefs to keep me standing, breath

so warm and wet and tidal.

Fingernails like mother-of-pearl and

eyes the color of you after a storm --

there is too much of you in me.

I would tell you everything, everything,

every thing.

#sedehaven #writerscreed

lebuc

all the spectral feels

* certainly - i'm quite familiar with the blues...

& the greens, the reds, yellows, oranges & the indigo...

so pray tell, why would i dwell on only one slice - & not embrace all of the spectral feels?

i shan’t. * 10/21 - lebuc - all the spectral feels

#lebuc #writerscreed

goneahead

To know hope

is to know

the soul of

a prairie

summer,

feel the feather-

weight of

milkweed seeds

wind-tossed,

listen to the

dry-brown rustle

of little bluestem

as rain booms many

months away.

#goneahead #writerscreed

sparkandashes

I don’t know if I need love.

Love is such a large word,

full of promises people make

before they know what they are promising.

What I need is simpler.

When I fall apart,

I need someone willing to sit on the floor beside me.

Someone patient enough

to gather the pieces without rushing.

Someone who does not mistake broken

for finished.

If I am a puzzle,

I do not want to spend my life

searching for missing pieces.

I want to be whole.

And when I scatter,

as all things eventually do,

I want someone who remembers

what I looked like before the fall.

Someone who does not try to remake me.

Someone who simply helps me

put myself back together.

#sparkandashes #writerscreed

small--town-r

Foggy is my existence.

Abounding within hope of nothingness.

Voided by blind circumstances is all I am.

Dagger's pierce my lungs slicing my very core.

Constraints bound my future that currently take shape.

A familiar field dismayed my feet trod.

Dodging minefields placed by humanity;

seeking to break leftover fragments of my sanity.

Fear has became oxygen.

Uncertainty holds daily functions that surround my mind.

Has crazy took hold

or taking hold.

I walk an undeserving path to such.

I drink from a cup of fleeting sanity.

R.A.

June5,2026

#small-town-r #writerscreed

dailydoseofsun

and i do have good days. great days, even. but the sun that welcomes me warmly each day cannot change the fact that the skin it caresses so gently still does not feel like my own. and i've tried to bask in the light that is so rightfully mine, but i can only think about the next wave that is to come.

#dailydoseofsun #writerscreed

heartofmuse

My heart finds its home in the grace that abounds and the gentleness of a love shared. It is fueled by a faith that hopes and a conviction that burns—a steady, inner light that guides every step.

e.v.e.

#heartofmuse #writerscreed

robertjw4688

The whip-poor-will calls

before midnight's entrance

in the hopes

of convincing the curtains

to blanket over a lingering daydream

so that love

can fill the fissures

where moths hide.

#robertjw4688 #writerscreed

drmorbius12

My Shadow Soul

dancing at the

Doors of Dawn

blows a mighty

Golden Horn

That wakes the Dead

from Slumber Deep

and shakes the Earth

beneath my Feet

#drmorbius12 #writerscreed

autumn-oceanopromises

(1028) not a love story

i started today with a love story i ended today with a love story what happened in between wasn't one.

tension is all the words i don't want to say to myself, or to you. i make you happy, and you make me content. an astrologer told me i won't have the love story i yearn for and that's alright, isn't it? isn't this enough? we aren't made of romantic moments. i don't even know what romance is. the flirting, the intimacy, the kissing we have one out of the three. isn't this enough? i've had the static shock, i've had the lightning from a clear sky moment. it wasn't enough. it didn't last. when the rains came, everything we were washed away clean. i can squeal about cute moments in other people easily enough, though. i meander around, but i come back to you.

i know how love stories end, and how they stumble. so I avoid the pitfalls. And because you're not like the romance protagonists the detours work.

there is an inevitability, it feels like, to our happy ending. so.... isn't it enough?

i started today with a love story (and you were asleep) i ended today with a love story (and you were asleep) i guess our love story is a bit different.

#autumn-oceanopromises #writerscreed

lebuc

reapers

* reapers of woe who don't weep - step off away from the major byways

spread your sour stuffing along the side roads of soggy toast and tippled toads hopping on sad lily pads in sad seas sitting stagnant & still.

goodbye to bad winds blowing bit by bit, byte by byte

daily and all through the nights of summer, winter - wherever - we've heard & seen enough of your bad tangerine dreams to know better.

whether or not we survive this shift-stormy weather

again tamping the tail-end of an amber-tanned day;

we'll take a quantified leap decide to protect our spirit and mind so you can no longer reap, so your tales of woe can wound us no mo;

& merrily we'll stroll to the end of our show, using our own sense ability, however uncommonly employed

to guide us as we journey this modern life, ...this brave new void. * 12/15 - 5/26 - lebuc - reapers

#lebuc #writerscreed

delightsofmysoul

In the depth of shadow Venturing inside yourself… I am not speaking of the blood, bones and organs Rather summoning the courage to delve beneath Pulling back your sinew Scooping aside your intestines Until in the depth of your bowel You find it The part of you that is dark Hidden Forbidden Even to yourself A part Bound tightly With past hurts Disappointments Demons some of which have been inflicted on you Others you have fashioned yourself It takes immense courage Extreme fortitude To loosen those shackles To peer with the dark and murky depths of one’s being Reaching deep within And grasping Confronting all those words and actions Which have kept you small Beyond the reach of yourself Freedom requires sacrifice Determination And rage A rage one has carried so long that it has crystallised Morphed into a hardness A veneer A protection From the shadows within.

Delightsofmysoul 2 June 2026

#delightsofmysoul #writerscreed

anisotropism

The Different Story--Postscript

Original date of writing: June 2019.

“I can only hope that one day you will see it fitting to be a part of my different story.”

It’s June.

This is a different June than the one that I left off at, and I’ve come to recognize that you have always occupied a space in the different story; you’ve just never known what that story is.

I used to imagine that the sequel to this story would be one that I would tell you in person. That from that moment onward, things would be different. But that isn’t meant to be, is it? I’m writing this because I will never get that chance.

I know anyone who disagrees means well, but that hope is not coming. This is my different story.

Different means a story where there aren’t even happy intermediates, let alone a happy ending. Different means a story that has impossible dilemmas. Different means a realm of existence that I live in by myself, because there is no alternative.

I say different because it’s not something that people have seen, but to me, it has always been the same story. It will always be the same story, and there are no good ways to describe it without being viewed as one of the many things that I’ve been ostracized for, but with the sparse remnants of my sanity, I will try.

I’ve lived most of my life without the prospect of happiness, crystallizing into the belief that there is nothing to gain, but everything to lose. There is no rock bottom. There is always further to fall. I just don’t know where the next depth is.

Somewhere in the wreckage, there lies an understanding of what my life is like, and why there is no capacity for change. Some part of me knows that the only way is forward, even if it goes down forever. Some part of me knows what the answer is, why it will not come, why it pertains to you, and why I can never ask that of you.

I hope to at least include what I will never say to you: I love you.

Some part of me wants to believe that when I wake I will find you waiting, that it will be better from then on, but it won’t be that way.

It will be June. It will just be June.

#anisotropic #writerscreed