sweet-dreams-and-soft-whispers

[sweet-dreams-and-soft-whispers]

“I hope one day we can forgive each other for not being what we wanted each other to be”

— Kriti G.

[sweet-dreams-and-soft-whispers]

Within Your Memories

TW- Mentions of blood and death

I never knew how you felt in those moment, until I could see them for myself.

It was cold, or at least...It had felt cold. The sky was grey and clouds rolled with the weight of the rain or snow they carried. This was your final sight in your painful final moments.

Precipitation fell from the sky. Gently landing on your skin and sliding down the sides of your face, around your eyes, off of the bridge of your nose. You could feel the warmth leaving your body as the blood pooled under your back, spreading to your arms. To the back of your head and drying in your once beautiful hair.

A worthy death. A hero's death. Fighting to defend and save your friends. Truly like a king.

The world around you darkens and no longer do you feel the cold entering your body or the pain.

Your eyes never shut...

Until you woke up with me.

#writing #osdd alter #fictive #memories #trauma #death tw

[sweet-dreams-and-soft-whispers]

The Specter

We are both content to live our lives without bothering the other, yet, why was it that just the day before I swore you were near?

I swear I could feel the fire of your eyes pierce my trembling soul. Feeling the burning sear of your judgement downcast upon me. I could hear your voice echo the remnants of harsh phrases that remain. A voice that, for me, would sing no praise.

Even now it feels as if that you were a god and I am but a lowly sinner who dared utter your Name. However, I did not speak. I dared not utter or wish your name.

I ignored the specter of you, the one that haunts my mind the same way a spider haunts a home. I ignored your whispers of my lacking.

I turned back to the clay within my shaking hands and molded it to the imperfect shape I desired it to be.

#writing #vent post #vent writing #trauma #childhood ptsd #mental illness #childhood abuse

[sweet-dreams-and-soft-whispers]

A Sense of Bittersweet Nostalgia

Lately, I can’t help but think of you. I can’t help but think of the way you laughed, the way your eye crinkled when you smiled...

I shouldn’t miss you. I know I shouldn’t miss you. But your eyes... Oh your beautiful eyes.  How they haunt me, old friend. The way they gleamed in the light or the way they warmed when they saw me...

Although, love, I suppose part of you will live on with me in memory and in those memories we are happy.  Together we are fantasizing about the future, promises of growing old. Promises of platonic love rather than romantic one.

#vent post #i miss her #no longer friends #writing #bittersweet