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#marshmallowskies
marshmallowskies · 3 years
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beeping of the microwave
soft thud of sugar grains
flour dusting my pink apron
and cinnamon sprinkling across my face
the whizz of the mixer
a lick of the spoon
a gorgeous golden mixture
that’s delicately spooned into each dotted liner
an aroma of vanilla and cinnamon
wafting throughout the house
a cloud of spun cinnamon sugar
wraps around my cosy frame
lover playing on repeat in the warm kitchen
the ding! of a timer
the sugary steam surrounding me
the scent of vanilla essence lingering on my hands
warm and sweet filling my mouth
buttery and sweetness in a swirl
powdered sugar smudged across the tip of my nose
creamy frosting and rainbow sprinkles
the smell of baking
on a gloomy winter’s day.
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pluiesworld · 4 years
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All sunsets are mine ! 🤭🤍
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yuribely · 7 years
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#закат #облака #дорогавнебо #зефирноенебо #маршмеллоу #весна #spring #vanillasky #ваниль #sky #clouds #sunset #sunsets #roadtosky #marshmallowsky
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jenna95212 · 7 years
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Sunset with marshmallow clouds ends up my 12 days of holiday:) #BackToHongKong #Sunset #MarshmallowSky #SchoolTmr #ByeHolidays #🌅 (at Hong Kong)
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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brain fog
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It wraps around me, engulfing me in its sticky web. It poisons every corner of my mind, dimming my vision and blurring my gaze. Time feels like a thick jelly, congealed with its own mystery. It moves agonizingly slow. The clock trudges through its own pool of quicksand. Sometimes it moves too fast, leaving me behind in its trail. My mind is weighed with lead and I’m frozen as the hours pass, leaving me in the past.
I have no thoughts, nothing strong enough to break this barrier. All I hear is the white noise of my own existence. I have no emotions, the poison drowsing me. I’m unable to be myself. Because I don’t even know who myself is. 
Nothing seems real. I’m stuck in my own illusion, surrounded by my own simulation. Voices buzz around me but the words don’t catch. My hands move without my will and my body acts as if it’s not my own. While my mind is stuck in my own personal hell. The poison runs through my veins, comatosing my spirit and capturing my consciousness into its thick gel. I can’t get myself to move, can’t get myself to find a purpose.
Nothing can cure it and nothing can keep it at bay. The day just seems cursed. It has me in its clutches before I realise what’s happening. I sit in silence for hours, oblivious to the world around me. Music floods my ears but it feels like a distant memory, like it’s not meant for me to hear. 
I spend these hours in solitude, crawling into myself and desperately trying to pry ‘me’ back. I’m an empty shell, a host for the evil. My eyes are drained. My voice is dull, hypnotized by the siren. 
And when it’s all over, it feels like it never began. Sunshine floods through me and the clouds part. The dream is over, my mind shaken from its coma. But I have no memory. There’s a blank space in my calendar. I don’t know what I’ve done or who I am and I’ve wasted precious hours of my youth held hostage by this jelly weighing me down. And it’s stupid and it sucks.
I live in fear, my defenses prepared for when it attacks. But I never know. And it must be laughing at me and my futile attempts to banish it forever. 
A square or two of chocolate does wonders, though.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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prompt: this city
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That’s the thing about this city. 
It chews you up in a cloud of fruity cocktails and fairy lights, strung against the golden skyline. It pulls you in with its corner bookstores and cafes that serve your cupcake with love and dash your coffee with that cinnamon dust you like. It draws you in with promises. The dream job, the modern fantasy, the world at your fingertips.
But then it spits you back out.
Wrapped up in the dream of it all, reality shatters your rose-colored glasses. Cocktails mixed with champagne and cherry make your head spin and the fairy lights on the main street are lopsided. Suddenly the streets are sweaty and claustrophobic. The night is too loud and you crave to smell the sweetness of flowers. Buildings block your view. The local café is filled with newbies desperate to instagram the hanging plants and marble tables. And the cupcakes are too sweet and oh my god, you don’t even like coffee!
You fall out of love with the city just as suddenly as you fell into it. It isn’t a messy break-up; no arguments, no cheating and you haven’t fallen for another. It just doesn’t glimmer like it used to. The honeymoon period is over. The giggly romance and stolen kisses too overplayed. It’s too loud, too busy and it just doesn’t excite you like it used to.
But like all stretched-out relationships, there are good times. Even those way past their expiration dates can still find the magic. The city lights against the cruel darkness brings wonder to your eyes. A warm and buttery sugar pretzel melts in your mouth. Walking into the first record store that you visited is enough to rekindle the spark.
No matter how much doubt you have, there is one thing you know to be true. You could never leave. The sights and smells are in your bones, in your mind and in the blood that is circulated with every pump of your heart. There will always be that restaurant that gives you the right amount of parmesan and the cute barista with the twinkle in his eye. The busyness of the street envelopes you in comfort. Fairy lights can always be strung again.
And that’s the thing about this city. It never loses its spark.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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an ode to you
same old view
same old you 
same old things that are entirely new
but i just don’t know you
things that i’ve forgotten
things that i’ve never seen
things that spark a memory
things i’m supposed to remember
but i never do 
another thing i just noticed
another thing i forgot
something i thought was right
but it was not
i breathe it in and feel so sure
that it’s a part of me i’ll always know
but the second i close my eyes it’s gone
a memory and nothing more
and sometimes i wish it wasn’t true
that there wasn’t an ocean between me and you
but other times i’m glad its right
so i don’t have the mess of you to fight.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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what brings me joy
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sunshine and chocolate milkshakes, 
hot tea and a good book.
the pouring rain and soft blankets, 
a deep sleep filled with good dreams.
soft fur and fuzzy ears,
purring that echoes for miles.
wagging of tails and excited yelps,
small sneezes and soft squeaks.
explosion of chocolate on my tongue,
stringiness of cheese on pizza.
sponginess of cake and sweet icing,
richness of pasta. 
turning of pages and scent of spines,
stretching of limbs and tree pose.
a good idea and the right words,
adrenaline and ball through a net.
falling of rain and a kaleidoscope of leaves,
a short and satisfying breeze.
hot chocolate piled with marshmallows,
toasty blankets piled high,
warm sweaters and foggy glasses.
salty water and warm sand,
cheering and cruising on a wave.
landscape photographs and poses,
juicy fruit and sunglasses.
birthday candles and warm hugs, 
italian restaurants and icecream.
watermelon and smoothies, 
christmas trees and fairy lights.
horror movies and goosebumps,
movies that light me up inside.
contemporary novels and blushes,
catching fire and finnick odair.
first step off the plane with eyes searching,
first glimpse and first hugs.
hot sun and dirt roads,
hot apple pie and flapjacks.
sunset and twilight skies,
soft music and yearning.
dusk adventures and dream holidays,
daydreaming at nightfall.
inside jokes and sleepovers,
saved seat and same team.
text messages and eventful games,
friendship and heartfelt belonging.
warm cuddles and fluffy coziness,
good music and scream singing.
night roads and pop songs,
soft morning light and weekend wake-ups.
z nation and twinkling lights,
comforting old episodes.
face masks and glittery bath bombs,
shower gel that smells like heaven.
warm heat pack and cat snuggles,
relief after facing the uncomfortable.
imagination and hopefulness,
growth and recovery.
loud laughter and bright smiles,
the fortune that life brings me.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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i don’t watch the news anymore
i barely even listen
i used to sit with clasped fingers
that crossed when the theme chimed
my eyes were wide and focused
as fear and possibilities ran through me
i don’t read the numbers anymore
or look at the decorated map with blood-red bullet holes in the centre 
instead i close the tab
i don’t watch the updates anymore
instead i sit under the pool of sunshine
pouring through the trees
and i listen to the birdsong
coming from high beneath the leaves
as the sunlight fills me with delicious heat
i read page after page 
absorbing every word
i calculate and problem solve
letting light and fresh air erase my frustration
i write and think
planning lines and metaphors
i stroke the sleek and soft fur
watching his chest rise and fall
and the softness of his slumber
i don’t watch the news anymore
i do anything but
and for once in my life
ignorance truly is bliss. 
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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strawberry cake
last night i dreamt of strawberry cake
though i don’t remember ever tasting it
but now my mouth is watering
and my mind itches to recreate it
it wasn’t the fancy type i expected
with elaborate decoration 
white piping all around the side
and it wasn’t a birthday cake, it was all mine.
it wasn’t a plain vanilla with strawberry pieces on top
nor was it an artificial pink
sculpted from jelly crystals
that smelt of strawberry essence
no, it was a simple and natural cake
a beige batter with flecks of red
that spun around as it mixed
then poured into tins and into the oven
as i nibbled on leftover fruit cubes
it was a 3 layer separated with vanilla frosting
wrapped in layers of the sweet, white nectar
then dusted with icing sugar
before being doused in colourful sprinkles
just to make it extra sweet.
its scent filled the air in a strawberry cloud
the sweetness glowing my face with joy
and i cut into the soft and sticky layers
taking the first blissful bite
i must make a strawberry cake.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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farm mornings
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world is frozen in time
as the birds fly by with flapping wings
and the loving breeze tickles the grass
as the cows stroll against the cloudy horizon
and the mountains flow for miles; tall and proud
my pages turn with a gentle shuffle
words of farmhouses and worlds beyond
my focus is half-hearted, ears on the sounds
the tweeting of birds that fill the air
and the distant echo of cars
in another reality than here
my tea steams beside me
a concoction of soy and sugar
its milky warmth soothing me all over
and the sun shines softly
a premature glow of hope
the morning passes slowly
time trickling with a fatigued hand
the afternoon not yet broken
and the crisp morning air surrounds me
with a nostalgic and homely embrace
the world is frozen in time
as the morning dew evaporates with afternoon sun
and the clouds part
but the pages keep turning
with their woodly scent filling the air
as the world keeps flying by.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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shades of tiffany
i wrote this in a hot tub staring at the greatest view in the world
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whenever i feel, that my fears or insecurities are too great
i always come back to the mountains.
tall and gracious and filled with wisdom
gained from their many years watching the horizon
thousands of years they have formed and observed
standing humbly while we build around them.
they bring deep joy and gratitude
as the blue crystal river flows softly 
from their place at 500 feet.
they inspire me and humble me
i feel blessed to be in their path, to witness their beauty
they bring me confidence and warmth,
i feel that i can do anything.
as these mountains have poised for decades
through the rain and the sleet and the shine
yet here they stand, taller than ever
time barely shadowing their features
i hope that when i die i can return to them
to accompany them and absorb their grace
to be wholly embraced by their beauty.
but i hope that when i live i can become them
to learn from them in lessons of solitude
immerse myself in the pure white sand
and let the soothing shades of tiffany wash over me
cleansing me into purity.
whenever i feel inadequate
i always think back to the mountains
tall and proud against the world
and i know that i can do it.
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marshmallowskies · 3 years
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The fresh air is sharp and smells like the canvas of a tent. Dewdrops glisten on the grass. It creates a softness that I envelope myself into gratefully. A cold breeze bites at my bare shoulders as I take in the rolling hills and bright meadows. It chills my face and brightens my soul. The harsh cold stings my eyes in a nostalgic way, clearing my vision in all ways but physically. Lush pastures and bearing fig trees sway delicately on the horizon.
My woolly cardigan is pulled tighter across my frozen body. It embraces me in its motherly warmth. Warm liquid seeps through my bones; a mixture of sugar and honey. It coats me in a cosy glow as I turn the pages softly.
Gentle rain patters against the conservatory window. It sends delightful shivers down my spine. Sipping my beverage, I allow the comfort to swallow me whole. Leaves of many greens surround me in a way that reminds me that life is significant. Stalks entwine with the atmosphere and twist to metaphorical heights unreachable. A scent surrounds me in a curious haze. It’s the smell of something nostalgic that I can’t place but can never forget.
Wood crackles and sparks fly as the flames rise. They lick the bricks in the fireplace, wandering dangerously by the hearth. As I watch the embers and the white ash fall, the room fills with a gentle glow. It’s an angry orange but the calmness of the room softens its glare. The logs are stacked in a traditional yet unintentionally aesthetic manner, much like the rest of the place. I soak it in with silent appreciation.
Twilight comes fast. The sky casts its purple glow through the glass and moonlight pours onto the carpet. The birds call out somberly, a contrast to their morning chirps. 
And as I close my eyes to the rich dark sky, with the stars gleaming brightly, I make a wish. A wish on the sparkly dots that resemble the ones I’ve lost, the ones I’ve come so far to please.
I wish to never leave.
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