Overgrowth
Frozen and unmoving.
Lifeless bones, remains spread in a meadow. Empty eye sockets and empty heads.
Rigid and stiff, bones getting devoured by greenery.
Weeds and moss. Flowers and herbs.
Dead bodies returning to new life.
Complete overgrowth.
Greened bones.
Life and death in a spring meadow.
Weeds and moss. Flowers and herbs.
Bones becoming one with the earth.
A herd of sheep on a spring meadow.
All your life you’ve been able to see the future. However, you have to look sparingly, because however far you see into the future, that amount of time is erased from you memory. For example, if you look five minutes ahead, you’ll forget the past five minutes.
One day you find yourself in a strange room with no memory of how you got there, only the knowledge that something horrible will happen in twenty-four hours.
- submission by writing_dump on Instagram
Since it’s almost Halloween, I thought I would do some spooky prompts! This prompt comes from @creativepromptsforwriting‘s Spooktober master list. Here’s the prompt:
#600: “What do you do when a ghost has a crush on you? Asking for a friend.”
Ashlynn and Jorei stared at Theo, processing the words he just uttered. Ashlynn was the first to respond, speaking slowly and carefully.
“Theo, does a ghost have a crush on you?” Theo’s face flushed with color. The teen squirmed and stammered, trying to think of something to say before giving up and letting out a long, hard sigh. “Yes,” he admitted, glancing over to the spirit in question. She appeared to be around their age, wearing a long flowing nightgown with similarly long hair, albeit curly and disheveled, as if she had just gotten out of bed. Her glazed eyes were fixed squarely on Theo, her mouth turned up in a smile that would have been sweet if she were still alive. Unfortunately, she was also invisible to everyone besides Theo, which had been maddening for the young knight-in-training. Jorei noticed where his friend was looking and got close, letting out a hurried whisper in Theo’s ear.
“You brought the ghost with you?!” he asked increduously. Theo put a hand over his mouth and whispered back in the same hurried, anxious tone.
“What was I supposed to do?! She hasn’t left me alone all day!” Jorei shook his head. This was going to be long day. The prince turned toward Ashlynn.
“Ash, do you have any enchantments that will let you see the ghost?” Ashlynn thought for a moment before closing his eyes and putting his hands in front of his eyes. Magic flowed from his fingertips, and before long a black pair of glasses were resting on his face. “These dark magic glasses should do the trick,” he said confidently. “Dark magic is most closely connected to the Spirit World, and it’s often used to detect nonhuman presences.” Sure enough, there was now a third person in Ashlynn’s line of vision; a young girl who only had eyes for Theo.
“Yep, there’s definitely a ghost there,” he sighed. “How did this even happen?”
“I don’t know. I was doing my usual morning routine in the rose garden when I saw her watching me. At first I thought she was just another student, so I didn’t really think about it, but when she started following me no one else seemed to notice. I didn’t figure it out until my brother said there wasn’t a girl near me at lunch.” As Theo explained his predicament, the exhaustion and frustration from the day’s events crept into his words, turning his usually cheery demeanor sour. Jorei patted Theo on the back in consolation.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure out a way to get rid of her,” he promised, Ashlynn nodding in solidarity. Theo smiled. “Thanks guys.”
“Of course. We’re your friends,” Ashlynn told him. The three boys decided it would be best to go to the library and look up spirit possessions, especially while the ghost girl was benign. However, as they approached the library, Ashlynn couldn’t shake the feeling that the girl was looking more and more at him.
“Out of the all the demon’s I’ve exorcised… Why won’t you budge?”
“‘Cause I’m not a demon, Father. I’m a God.“
{Submitted by: kyuhyun-kei}
[24.10.2020 | 4/100 Days of Productivity]
🎧 Don’t Know What to Do - BLACKPINK
Starting up the fires again as we head into our fall-ish winter-y season! Our fireplace was left unused for… so many years. Over a decade, a decade and a half. It’s just a little treat when our bones are really feeling the cold, you know?
Anyways! I’ve been working on my monologues and storytelling, as per usual! I tried reciting something I wrote for my Storytelling As Performance class to another person for the first time.
I started off strong but got a little self-conscious and stumbled. Totally ate metaphorical dirt there, lol. But I will improve on it, I promise you that!
I’d love to get more confident, but obviously there’s no quick fix!
Still. Almost 2 months in and I’ve already learnt so many new things and noticed so many differences in myself! It’s like… super cool.
GUYS SPOOKY SEASON IS ALMOST UPON US
Also, how in the fuck is this song 22 years old. This came out yesterday.
It’s part of my new nightly normal
Routine formed out of aimless days
And sleepless nights.
Deep breath, in for five
Hold.
Assess.
Does the air flow deep
Does it fill the lungs
Or does it catch
Or stutter
Or coax a cough?
Exhale, out for five.
Repeat as necessary
Until the panic passes
Then carry on
Like everything is normal.
- Breathing Exercises
Originally written 4/10/20
Why am I back here again?
Back in this room which is both heaven and hell.
My heart aches more now than it did on my previous visits.
Experience has taught me that someone like this only comes along once in a lifetime.
Others can be amazing, yet this one embodied so many hopes and dreams.
Unattained hopes and crushed dreams.
We could have been such a perfect match.
But we’re not.
We never can be.
So why am I back in this room?
This place has seen so many different moods.
Here I have been confused.
Here I have been mad.
Here I have been hopeful.
Here I have entertained beautiful fantasies.
Here I have realized I loved.
Here I have known that he would never return that love.
Here I have been disappointed.
Here I have felt bitter and angry.
Here I have hated myself, hated the world, sworn I hated him, and never hated him.
Here I have felt more deeply than anywhere else in my life, and here I died a little inside and rose up a new person.
So why am I back in this room?
Why do I once again feel myself fall into the abyss?
I closed this door for the last time long ago.
How is the door open and why am I standing on the threshold?
This place is a part of me.
No matter what I do or how far I travel I can never forget it.
I learned some of the greatest lessons of my life within these walls.
What I felt for him changed me irreversibly.
If I truly shook the dust of this place off my boots, then why do I hide it?
If i really didn’t love him, why do I conceal from another how much I liked him?
If I escaped this place long ago, why am I back in this room?
I have visited other places and stayed in other rooms.
I never ate at this table.
I have eaten at others.
So why am I back in this room?
In all the other places I’ve been, I never felt a connection like this.
No other man could freeze me with a single look.
No other man made me so weak yet so strong.
Of all the rooms I’ve entered, only this one trapped me and held me prisoner.
I fought so hard to leave.
Leave I eventually did.
But at what cost?
This place is a part of me.
By forcing myself to forget this place, did I forget a piece of myself as well?
I believe I did.
It was an undesired piece.
A piece foolish and untested.
But a piece of myself all the same.
My heart never truly belonged to another because I left a piece of it in this room.
I left a piece in his hands.
He does not know he possesses it.
He has never set foot in this room.
He will never know this place.
So why am I back in this room?
Why do I feel what I felt returning?
Why does this feel so familiar?
In its familiarity, why is it so different?
I loved him once.
It was before I knew what love was.
With full knowledge of what love is, I thought I loved another.
From within these walls I see I was wrong both times.
Poetry is patient
it waits for me
at the end of the world
as I follow my breath
When will this body
no longer be my body?
Where does the light shine
when it shines on itself?
What do you think about
when you think about nothing?
I heard your brother died and
I think
Me too, me too
mine, he did, too
The space in my brain is filled
with mosquitos
that bite my ankles
as I fall asleep
as I try not to panic
while my heart beats so forcibly
that it shakes the bed
Just cover your head with
your arms,
or cover your face with
a pillow,
remember the load bearing walls or
the desks to crouch underneath
I tie old shoes to the bed, I freeze dry
and dehydrate,
I buy earthquake kits
but when the big one comes,
we will probably already be
nowhere to be found
and the poetry will still
be waiting at the end of the world
quietly.
Amor fati.
the vindication of being able to keep up with hearing about a college class second hand solely due to research you’ve done for fanfiction.
“The last time that I saw you, you were… more yourself. What have you become? Who have you become? Whoever he is, I don’t like him. I want my friend back.”
Well, good. I try to convince myself that it’s a good thing, the fact that she doesn’t feel those feelings anymore. The fact that I’m not who I was anymore. The fact that she’s noticed my changes. I try to act like her words aren’t haunting me and keeping me from closing my eyes, but I can’t get her face out of my head.
The horror in her eyes when she realized that I’d changed so drastically.
What’d she expect? It had been a decade. It wasn’t like only a year or two passed since she and I fell out of contact. No, time had passed and in that time, I had changed. It was only natural, right?
My fist closes on the sheets as her face stares at me scornfully from inside my head. I can just hear what she’d have to say about that.
“You are a vampire. There is nothing natural about you. Or me, for that matter.” I sigh, turning to bury my face in my pillow.
Stop.
Stop.
Your voice won’t leave me alone and I don’t like it. I used to find comfort in thinking of your face. Now it just brings me nightmarish horror.
Stop.
Good god, please stop.
Just gonna tag my main crew (the general taglist) - ask to be added or removed: @amandahoyle, @jade-island-lives, @bathingindirtyteacups, @wyldlynxx, @mrs-raven-writes
Person A works full time as a time travel guide, bringing people to different time periods for fun and making sure not to lose any guests or their license could be revoked. Person B is a frequent flyer who turns out to work for the time repair government agency, and is recruiting Person A for a special mission, since Person A has shown great skill at slipping seamlessly into timelines.
𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ↷ chapter seven excerpt
i know that the whole point of this story is for it to be cliche, but sometimes i write lines like this last one & i genuinely wonder if this is how riverdale writers feel like… but anyway! chapter seven is out and i hope you enjoy 🤍✨
tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@writingbyjillian @orangewlws @mouwwie@anxiousacebooks
@howdy-writes @ambrosiadarling @pechaes @loudwithlaughter @magpieandfae
wip intro | wattpad link in the notes
Give me hope and I’ll lance the perceived sin that we all allegedly live in
It is the grace of a mind at peace that oversees the complete and we walk to wayward ways to define new spring fulfilled days to brighten the next season into meaning and deep feeling
It is the culmination of brash ways that weigh so heavily upon the backs of the tested and rested and allows us to lack in the fundamentals of our own existence
That was not existential
That was truth wrapped in thick roots bursting with sunshine to fortify the mind and cleanse the eye
Believe as you will but be still
Stop taking the most bitter pill
Life can be lived within sweetness and the brightest daffodils
She’s been through a lot now… Is she ready to stand up for herself yet? Read the book to find out.
Survivor - Wattpad ( https://my.w.tt/RGL9Li4xQab )
____________________________________
Selena Wilson had finally thought that the worst was over. As the mate of Alpha Xavier Martinez, the alpha of the Ferocious Shadows Pack, she was accepted in the pack and respected by most. Her past memories still haunted her and her wolf, a female alpha, was still reeling with the loss of losing her whole pack and family.
What happens when a conspiracy leads her mate to lose faith in her?
What happens when her wolf abandons her too?
Will her mate trust her again?
Will she be able to forgive her mate?
Over all these things that seem to break them apart and a few surprising secrets, there lies an impending doom of the hunters who killed her entire pack.
Will she be able to tune back into her pack leading skills?
Will she be able to lead her mate’s pack to victory? Or will she break under the immense pressure?
Join Selena Wilson and Xavier Martinez in their journey to discover themselves and learn the hard way the importance of trust and forgiveness.
I like pretty words like lilac, blades ,and milk.
My hands bound by a rose vine behind my back.
Thirty three kisses of saliva and samples of
Fingering.
My wrists started to bleed , food for the rose at the end. Paint for the animal’s noses after they tongued the dirt.
Palms smelt like sliced peach chunks. I am your moonlight and flower garden.
My name is a song that stings your lips .I’ll bite your chapped lips.
I barely know you
and you barely know me
And yet here
we both are
still searching.
-J.Wool, Poetry Pieces
All Writing belongs to me. Do Not Steal.
Thudding beat, conducted
By the clenched fist’s hand squeeze
Skin pressing skin, pressing senses
Tightened suspense seeking release
Bottled up rage, the beat
Drops quivered spills
From the overrunning cup
Slipped ‘twixt lips; the grip on reality
Lost between incessant temple rubs
The beat echoes
Tête-à-tête; heart to heart
Resonating the language of throbs
Grinding gears, jamming machines
Red hot metal pulsing ere breaking in
Sparkling shatters, trickling; trembling
On the floor
The beat goes on
—
24-10-2020, M.A. Tempels ©