Tumgik
#savagewords
writeblrcafe · 2 months
Text
Sixth prompt menu (March)
Tumblr media
We are excited to present you our sixth prompt menu this March! This is our sweetest menu yet, consisting of five sugary companions for your drinks at writeblrcafé and sweetening our baked goods. So choose your sweet flavour and order a candied prompt from our menu!
Brown sugar: "If that's all it takes to kill a god, then how easy it must be to become one." by @basalamander-corner
Maple syrup: Write a description of one of your settings from the POV of at least two different characters, so you can see how their unique voices change how the setting appears to the reader. by @asablehart
Honey: Choose a song and write something inspired by that song. by @sadfragilegirl
Agave syrup: "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now." - "I can't. I'm sorry." by @basalamander-corner
White sugar cubes: Write about two characters having dinner, but they can't explicitly say what they want to say. by @asablehart
We encourage all forms of original writing. You can check out our other prompts here. Make sure to tag your piece of writing with #wcprompt within the first 5 tags and mention which prompt(s) you used. We will reblog every order!
Please reblog this post to spread the word in the writing community.
103 notes · View notes
getcareless · 14 hours
Text
Triolet Poem #59
It is better late than never. Otherwise, don't even bother. Though the place may be wherever, it is better late than never. Don't make others wait forever, you should treat them like your mother. It is better late than never, otherwise, don't even bother.
"Better Late Than Never", JEP
17 notes · View notes
lexiklecksi · 4 months
Text
Monster
Genre: horror, pov: first person, word count: 1419, trigger warnings: monster, suicidal ideation, mental illness, paranoia, car crash
Months ago, I wrote the first few sentences of this horror short story and saved it in my notes. Today, I finished writing it. I hope you like this change of genre and give it a read!
Lights are blinding me. I flinch, holding a hand out against the white light coming closer. An engine breaks through the silence of the night. I squint and suddenly there's a car moving towards me at high speed. I stumble to the side, my heart racing. How did I end up here? In the middle of a crossroad. My fingers ache, so I flex them, slowly gazing down while my sight is still flickering from the headlights. Something warm trickles down my hand, it oozes onto the grass where I'm crouching. What is this? A realization hits me: It's blood, and it's not mine. What happened? My head hurts. The texture of the grass beneath me feels soothing. I want to lie down and never get up again. My back hurts like a thousand needles are pricking it. I roll onto my side and let out a heavy sigh. The air is freezing, my breath turns cold. Everything hurts. Oh please make it stop.
A high-pitched scream pierces the air and I cover my ears, but it only makes it louder. Am I screaming? Something flickers behind my eyes, my vision blurs and then I suddenly see it. The monster. It stared at me with overbearing eyes, saliva dripping down its chin, the hairy forearms and a breath that tastes like death. I thought I escaped, isn't that why I'm on the road? How could it find me? Wherever I go, it always follows me. You can run, but you cannot hide. A deafening scream escapes my sore throat. This time, I know it's me. A cry for help, but no one will hear it. This road is deserted in the middle of the night. Achingly, I try to stand up again. My legs turned into jelly, I fall down on my knees. Everything hurts. Worst of all, my head hurts. My head always hurts, but something feels different. Thoughts are chasing each other by the tail, but I can't grab any of them. My mind remains a blank slate, preparing itself to be eaten by the monster. Despite the brain fog, a thought emerges. A command: Run! Run! Run!
On all fours, I'm crawling towards the street. Pain shoots like an arrow to my knees, but I force my legs to stand up again. The monster is lurking in the dark, chuckling at my desperate attempts to save myself. Am I even worth saving? She told me I was beyond saving. Before it all went wrong, she tried. I'm thankful she tried, even though I don't deserve such kindness. She said, I don't hate you, I just want to save you while there's still something left to save. We compared scars. She said, I'll show you mine if you show me yours first. My body is a haunted house, only a few would dare to visit it. I can cry about the sorry remains of myself another time. Now I need to focus on saving myself. Though, it would be so much easier to give in, to accept my fate of being eaten by a monster. What's there to live for anyway? Since she left, I have been lying in my bed like it's a deathbed. My feet are still running down the road. Where am I going? There is no escape from the monster. It's roaring laughter keeps haunting me, trailing behind the line of blood drops I'm leaving on the road. So much blood. Bloody hell, I am such a loser. When they finally found my mangled body on the road, there will be no way to recognize me. There is no one left to recognize me anyway. And I would spare her the look of my fucked up body. Of my remains they scraped from the road and put on a steel table under a harsh white light. I can picture it so well as if I'm already dead.
Am I dead yet? Is this nightmare ever going to end? I haven't slept in weeks. Once upon a time, the night was my friend. It welcomed me into its warm embrace after an exhausting day. I didn't feel lonely, even though I was alone. I didn't question the natural order of life back then. That was before she came into my life. She taught me that my life was lonely and she was the missing puzzle piece to my happiness. Then she left me in pieces, shattered glass on the ground, drops of blood smeared on the mirror. How can anyone be so cruel to love me? What a sick joke love is. Everyone wants to be loved, right? I'd rather have people hate me, it's less cruel for my broken heart. Tree after tree passes me as I stumble down the road, the monster slowly walking behind me. It is taking its time because it knows it will catch me. Like a cat with a mouse, it's playing with me. Giving me just enough hope to keep on going. Even though we both know how this will end. There is no chance I make it out alive. I won't see another sunrise. How sad that I didn't appreciate the last sunrise.
A distant memory of sunshine on my scarred skin. A warm embrace on a cold day. I'm shivering as it starts raining. The hairy monster shakes the rain off its fur. It smiles at me, like a friend. I know better than to trust that smile. Friends become enemies very quickly. They cared for me, a long time ago. They stopped visiting me in the hospital a few weeks after … the incident. Not only that, but they couldn't understand that I'm still sick. That there is no cure for this kind of disease. It's eating my brain inside out. It's tearing at my flesh and no matter what the doctors tried, they couldn't help. The only visitor that kept coming was the monster. Somehow it managed to get past hospital security. Somehow it was invisible to others. All that doesn't matter. It's real, it's here and it is still going to feast on me. Blinded by the lights. A honk, screeching tires, then the road falls on my face. Darkness engulfs me.
Muffled voices near my ear, a hand checking for a pulse on my slit wrist. “Oh shit, oh shit! Is he okay?” Then a deeper voice shouts: “Darling, call an ambulance! He lost a lot of blood!” Footsteps approaching. “Shit, I didn't see him! Why was he walking on the road at midnight?” Yes indeed, why? The monster! How could I forget about the monster! I open my mouth, but just a gurgling sound escapes. “He's trying to speak! Move closer!”, the deep voice commands. “The monster … look out … can't escape … it will eat us all”, I manage to mumble under my breath. “Honey, what is he talking about? There is no monster, is it? The road is empty!”, she says, confused. Idiots! We are all going to die. More food for the monster, that must make it happy. At least one of us will be happy. I will never be happy again. Sirens in the distance. “Oh, thank God, the ambulance is coming!”, he shouts out, relieved. “Please just leave me to die here”, I whisper into the darkness.
A hand holds mine. “No, stay with me, buddy. You will live. The ambulance is nearly here. Don't give up yet! You will live, I promise!”, he speaks softly yet eagerly in my ear. Tears are running down my face. “I want to die”, I whisper in the direction of the voice. “You won't die tonight”, he reassures me. Then four strong arms lift me up. “His pulse is steady, but he lost a lot of blood. Give me some bandages! And open his vein for me, I need to inject”, one says to the other. The monster smiles his devilish smile and waves me goodbye. “Please don't leave me”, I cry out. “I'm right here”, says someone. “Stay with me”, someone begs me. It sounds just like her … impossible, it can't be her! She was taken by the monster a month ago. “He's got a hospital bracelet!”, someone shouts. “Great, where are we taking him?” Someone grabs my wrist. “It says: Mental Ayslum Georgetown.” A cough of disbelief. “Didn't that close down years ago?” Hands are grabbing my body, rearranging it. “Let's just drive him to the nearest hospital then.” Lights are blinding me, then darkness engulfs me.
Tag list: Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list. @matcha-chai @dg-fragments @silversynthesis @heartofmuse @scatteredthoughts2 @rhapsodyinblue80 @alaskaisnothere @stoic-words @september-stardust @wordsforsadpeeps @writingitdown @intothevortex @aubriestar @warriorbookworm @raevenlywrites @alex-a-roman @artsymagee @giantrobocock @theheightofdepression @writing-is-a-martial-art @beautifulimposter25 @callmepippin @a-musingmichelle @kirkshiresloss @rhythmiccreatorofbeuty @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes @tini-rat @captain-kraken
17 notes · View notes
stevenluce · 7 months
Text
Tree Tops Spinning
Mouths running around
Covered in mud
Muttering the same thing over and over
Birds calling out
Brush rustling
Ants strumming along a rotten log in a perfect line
Quiet
With thin mist
No alarm clock
No newspaper
41 notes · View notes
iwriteaway · 1 year
Text
the countdown.
7 days a week, tears rolling down my cheek
6 reasons to stay, but your words keep me away
5 stages of grief, through all my heart bleeds all shades of you in brief
4 whispers I chant - to just let go,
but the reminiscence of your love drags me
to you like a dove
3 times I lost myself in finding you,
exhausted- all I got beneath my lungs is dust amidst the hue
2 red eyes of mine- craving for your sight,
you used to be my moon- my soothing light
1 of acceptance I seek to move on,
but don't they say scars always imprint the pages once torn?
15 notes · View notes
inkandpins · 2 years
Text
Visiting Family
Woken to the Wega radio crooning,  its metallic sound layered with  aluminum blinds clattering together, yanked. All slightly bent to one side. 
The shuddering light falls at an  angle across your nose. One eye squints and sees wrinkled hands smoothing stalks hiding in the shade. In breeze, insects swim silk through the wet air. Inside, everyone is working.
Amah wraps dried milkvetch, honey locusts, and ginseng in brown paper— to fight fatigue. The room is filled with herbal dust, settling everywhere as wooden drawers are pulled and shut. The bitterness permeates your clothes, and flushes out your toxins.
Oversleeping is a cardinal sin, yet they would never wake you, just look with practiced disappointment as you rush in stuttering and apologetic. There is no cure for that. The gesture spans your head to toe.  Family is family.
N.Y. Thinking of Indonesia, 08.27
20 notes · View notes
skyandherdiamonds · 2 years
Text
Please, don’t keep yourself from love,
Because someone was careless enough
To toss your heart to the wind;
Pick it back up, dust it off
And continue learning
Just how strong you are.
Broken is a beautiful beginning
Not an end, my dear.
S.a
107 notes · View notes
yoursdelilah · 3 years
Text
There was no way around it, I've come to realise. You caught my eye from across every room and we frequented all the same ones; violent neon ones, dimly lit ones. Did you know that you made everyone else look smaller? I can't remember any of their faces but I recall every freckle on yours. I chased you all across London. Nobody ever writes about Avery Hill so you dated a poet and you took her home. Now I can’t set foot in the East End without being bombarded with flashes of you. And Greenwich just doesn’t feel the same without your fingers brushing my thighs in a cafe.  I don’t often blush. I don’t often find myself in love with a memory, despite romanticising every single one that I have. Sometimes I still spot you on the underground, but you’re never there. You chased me like a bullet train every time that I left. Maybe I took it for granted, the head rush I’d get from the way you’d call my name. You haven’t called since September and I have been dying like the leaves. So where does that leave us?
Ghost Town/Ghosting — Delilah K.
153 notes · View notes
curlyhaired-dreamer · 2 years
Text
Your voice
has the tone of the intimate,
the warmth of my home,
the sweetness of the familiar.
But your voice
is also the echo of my longing,
the thrill of the adventure,
the excitement of the unknown.
My heart has known your voice forever
but still discovers its secrets every day.
46 notes · View notes
sincerelysharon · 3 years
Quote
And what if we were told to begin again? To start this story over, in a different life, in a different world, in a different dream. We might not find each other, let alone love and be loved by each other. And frankly, I find that beautiful because it must mean that in this world, in this life, in this dream, we were meant for each other. Every decision we made, didn't make, chose or didn't choose, brought us together. Not a predetermined narrative but this exact world, life, dream. We belong uniquely in this place together. Only in this reality are we special to these circumstances, we love under these circumstances. I think that's beautiful.
we belong uniquely in this place together // s.g. 
120 notes · View notes
bones-and-mortar · 3 years
Text
New Perspective
Rippled roads carved between a beautiful mix of towering trees
Riding along the brae like a hillside brook Getting lost in the scenery Yet can't help but to look
at the lovely expanse laid before my eyes Sparkles clustered in conifers that stay awake until sunrise
And I'm just one in a thousand of those glinting thoraxes; so aimless yet carefree like ivy twining your lattice
Now the sky is slowly growing brighter and my dark opinions are finally catching fire when fighting against the rising sunlight and those fireflies sparking up like lighters
I remember that I had once said I felt more warmth beneath the moon than I've ever felt under the sun with pitiful sentiment and a foolish mindset Now I wonder how those webs of doubt were ever spun
Tumblr media
34 notes · View notes
writeblrcafe · 3 months
Text
Secret Valentine hosted by Writeblr Café
Tumblr media
Let's spread love in our writing community with a lovely game of Secret Valentine! After our successful Secret Santa gift exchange (read all gifts here) we are hosting another written gift exchange. As you all know, our main goal is bringing writers together. We aspire to inspire! So join the fun, write something wonderful for a fellow writer, and receive a written gift from your Secret Valentine.
Who can participate?
This event is open for all writers. Any writer can choose to spread some love and gift a present through their words!
How it works:
Fill in this form to participate (direct link below)
Deadlines:
25th January for signing up through filling in the form
27th January for receiving your Secret Valentine target through dms
14th February for posting your writing gift tagged #wcsecretvalentine within the first 5 tags and tag who the gift is for as well as @writeblrcafe
If you still have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask in the comment section or send us a curious ask! We promise we don’t bite (unless you are in love with vampires, then we will bite you passionately.) We will keep our shadows hidden by keeping each other warm.
Spread this lovely message by reblogging this post! Thank you <3
110 notes · View notes
getcareless · 2 days
Text
Triolet Poem #57
Some people beat around the bush. While others try finding their roots. Some people need a little push. Some people beat around the bush. They stay seated on their tush like they're scared of dirt on their boots. Some people beat around the bush. While others try finding their roots.
"Beat Around The Bush", JEP
15 notes · View notes
lexiklecksi · 3 months
Text
New Year resolutions
This poem was written for @flowers-for-the-grave for @writeblrcafe's Secret Santa! I'm your gift fairy because your Secret Santa couldn't make it. Sorry you had to wait so long! I hope it was worth it and you like this poetic prose ;-)
New year, new me?
Now is the time to make resolutions
That won't end up as broken promises
Set realistic goals you are motivated to reach
Stand up for yourself and voice your opinions
Make peace with your past
Shine a light on your shadows
Choose compassion over competition
Befriend your sleep paralysis demon (it's always there for you)
Spend time with people who appreciate you
Take good care of your mind, body and heart
Let the sun kiss your skin, dance in the rain, make snow angels
After all, there's no rainbow without rain
Tag list: Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list.
@matcha-chai @dg-fragments @silversynthesis @heartofmuse @scatteredthoughts2 @rhapsodyinblue80 @alaskaisnothere @stoic-words @september-stardust @wordsforsadpeeps @writingitdown @intothevortex @aubriestar @warriorbookworm @raevenlywrites @alex-a-roman @artsymagee @giantrobocock @theheightofdepression @writing-is-a-martial-art @beautifulimposter25 @callmepippin @a-musingmichelle @kirkshiresloss @rhythmiccreatorofbeuty @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes @tini-rat @captain-kraken
14 notes · View notes
stevenluce · 1 year
Text
I’d Rather Help Freaks
Head down
Walking weird
Listening to eclectic music
Sour
38 degrees fahrenheit
4 A.M.
Writing at work
On the toilet
Knitting sweaters for Godzilla action figures
Bullied
Medicated
Trying to talk normal
Accidentally screaming
Accidentally screaming
Watching obscure foreign films
Ugly
Fat
Stupid
19 notes · View notes
env0writes · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Janus Estuaries Vol.2: Different Doors 1.1.22, “Stand By Me in the Flowing Course of it All”
Do you think the rain grieves, When it strikes down on the mountain Into divergent trickling streams Babbling their first words On deaf forest ears It must be more painful      Than a parent’s first day of kindergarten      Parting with all they have Into the rocky wilderness Around the bend And out of sight
Not every droplet makes it home Not unlike school children, Front row soldiers fearing D-Day       Learning the idiosyncrasies of trickle-down Economics tricking down Seeking the coursing rush Of brooks and books Current affairs shifting the social landscape Into meadows, fields, and bogs Dripping over logs and into rivers New water flowing through old rock
The rain must weep for puddles, Ponds and lakes, Resigned to be divorced, Displaced from family, Not knowing the embrace It is no wonder they do not bear good tides Ill tides, or any tides at all For they do not know    The generational gap between    Father and son Repeating the same cycle of mistakes
The rain must cry When its rivers, estuaries, and streams, Shatter into the delta      And return to the oneness that is      The sea we see Oceans full of celebration commotions Returning home, Even if only to a well known bed, Gives more respite Than the shallows of sheets Where the grave, tears, and dreams start to meet The rivers are long and winding Scoring stories into soil Curving, bending, like sapling lads They all should make it, From cloud to mountain, set racing free Down the spout and into the sea Do they remember their way back home? Or the puddles of the ones they used to have known?
@env0writes C.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!
5 notes · View notes