My Writing - Tumblr Posts

Someone hand me a flashlight

My fire won't reignite

I've tried to fix my sight

But that plan blew like dynamite

Now I'm lost in the dead of night

Hoping the track I'm taking is right

And that eventually I'll take flight

But at the moment I'll never see the light

Cause I'm still stuck with my trauma induced fright

So I don't think I'll ever be able to stand upright

By - burningwastelandtyrant


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When they told me that they felt nothing, I was confused. How could someone feel nothing I wondered? Because if you're feeling nothing then aren't you feeling something?

But now I understand, feeling nothing isn't just a lack of feeling. It's a feeling of emptiness. It's a guilt that you carry around because you can't force yourself to feel something for someone else, for that little boy down the road who just lost his parents, or the people on the street that are starving every night, even though you know that what they're going through is tragic and that you should feel something for them, no; need too.

It's like you're in a black hole where you're emotions are there in front of you but you just can't reach it, it's something that no one can heal, not even ourselves.

And now that I understand, I wish I was still that person that was clueless about these emotions, because even though I didn't understand I could still sympathize and offer what I use to think was comfort. And that might sound selfish, but I know that you'd do it too.


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I'm not sure if everyone's confidence is authentic, including ours. We plan our future together when we don't even know what we're doing after the sun rises in the morrow, isn't it scary? The expectations of everyone around us, judging our every move and giving advice, thinking we're a mirror image of their younger selves where everything in their lives took a turn for the worse. Their disappointing stares and comments, our anxiety filled hope that everything will work out and we won't be left heartbroken and alone, still caught up with the ghosts of our past and future, where nothing is certain, but everything is set in stone by the higher power of our world. Our personalities are so similar yet so different, we went through different things, and we chose the same toxic coping methods, yet only one of us has changed and sought to grow and heal. I'm not sure if we can suffer the future together, but I know that I'd do anything to stay by your side, even if that means going for an eternal sleep until our Lord returns and rescues us from our woes. We've gotten to the stage where I'm unsure if my love for you is an unhealthy obsession, but if it is then there needs to be an intervention. I would die for you, but not in the jokingly I would take a bullet just to prove my love, in the sense of irreparable damage, of fracturing my soul just to be in your presence. Now will you listen? I have so much to say but I don't even know if you will hear me, I move to fast but not in the physical sense, in the sense that I'm already picturing our wedding and what our kids will look like, I'm a romantic but you're scared of commitment, where I would commit my entire life to serve you in an instant. Isn't it scary? This life we lead, where we tell each other we're okay, but inside we're terrified of what's going to happen and we both know it. Do you know what you did when you put your name at the end of mine and then said you couldn't promise anything? Not even that you'd try to make it happen with me. It was the most beautiful and heartbreaking day of my life. Why can't you think before you say? We were only joking, and you said that line with such sincerity that I almost believed that we were already at the altar, but can you blame me when you look at me in that way that feels like I'm the only person in your life, that makes me melt and trip over my words like a nervous wreck. The truth is I'm terrified, terrified that one day you'll look at me and give up, that you'll no longer be interested in spending our lives together and starting a family, and it might be irrational but I don't feel worthy of you, and everything that people are saying fuels my anxiety, and if I could just look into your eyes and listen to you tell me how everything will be okay and that we'll get through all of our trials together, I'll truly be at rest. Because the truly irrational thing is that I trust you with everything I have, even though you tell me not too.


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1 year ago

pls help w this

so i wrote this thingy and i think its like a short story maybe? i just maybe wanted someone to give it more background cuz i kinda really like it. anyways its long as shit so um yeah:) (1412 words long i got tumblr bc when i read ffs the authors always say tumblr helps them so yeah!)

TW: homophobia (includes the f slur), mentions of blood and death. also swearing. a lot of swearing.

You know what’s a different experience that I have, that maybe, no one else does?

I walked onto that stage.  Rolling my shoulders back, forcing my head to be a little higher.  Eyes forward, because I knew that if I looked at her face, or even her name, printed out in big white letters on banners that would temporarily mark the walls of city hall; that I would ruin my makeup.  Maybe, because I knew that they were going to be temporary, that no one really gave a shit about her, or maybe it’s because she’s dead.  Maybe it’s because I have to do this speech instead of her parents and I can’t look at her knowing that, because in some way it’s like I’m telling her.

I’m in a royal blue suit, with a white button up and a matching tie. I didn’t have formal shoes, and I feared that if I wore my high heels I would shake so hard that I’d fall.  So I’m wearing my Converse.  With or without heels, I still fear falling because I don’t know when it will happen, if it’s inevitable or not.  I’ve been shaking for the past forty minutes.  

“Hi, baby, hi, look at me, baby.” 

I’m not shaking as hard as I was two days ago, though.

I held up her head, you know?  I felt so bad, I was getting blood all over her face.  It was on my hands from when I was trying to stop the bleeding.  We did everything right.  She did everything right. Anisa did everything right.

She saved people, that’s just who she is. And I guess, it’s who I’m not.  I called 9-1-1.  I asked for an ambulance.  I told them, “GSW to the stomach, bleeding, a lot, oh God, please, please, no,” I even took breaths to try to help them understand; the operators and God, begging to give her another chance at life. “Applying pressure, come on, Nisa, eyes open for me okay?  Come on,” 

 I breathed.  

“Come on! Please, please!”  

I breathed.  

“Baby,”  

She called for me, and like always, I answered.  

“I’m here, Nisa, I’m here,”  

I looked at her.  The most gorgeous woman in my life.  I was going to marry her.  

“Hey, angel, it’s okay, okay?”   

I breathed again.  

I nodded. 

“Don’t cry, angel, it’s okay,”  

Was I crying?

“I love you, I love you so much,”  She said.  

I nodded again. 

 “I love you too, and you’re gonna be okay,” 

I rasped in the air, forced it into my lungs, but it was still breathing, right?  

She shook her head in a silent ‘no’.  

“But that’s okay, ‘cause I got you, so,” 

She breathed in.  It looked like it hurt.

 I cried more. 

“It’s okay.  I love you.”

I heard the sirens.  She did too.  She shook her head again. ‘Not close enough.’

I shook mine.  ‘It has to be.’

“It’s okay.” She said, again.

“Come here,”  She weakly lifted her arms and grabbed my face, pulling me down so our foreheads could rest on each other.

“I love you,”  She told me, she promised me.

“I love you too, always.” I replied, promising her back.  I grabbed her hand and held it tight.

I breathed.

She didn’t.

“Nisa?” I called for her, unmoving.

She didn’t answer.  

She always answered.

I cleared my throat.  “I’m Mae Vincent,”  I stood, a little straighter, swallowing and tucking my blonde, turning brunette, hair behind my ear.  “And, today, our city lost a hero.  Not just a hero that is called that because she looked straight out of a comic book,”  I got a couple soft laughs at that. “But a hero by textbook definition,”  I took a breath and blinked.  “Anisa Cook, or ‘Star’, whoever you knew her as, but until yesterday, most people knew her as Star, so let’s go with that.”  

I looked around, for reassuring eyes, and only found strangers, and flashing lights of the paparazzi’s cameras boring back into my brown ones.  “Star protected this city for two years, and in those two years she has done more for its citizens than anyone has in decades.  She has stopped bank robberies, muggings, sexual assaults, murders,”  I stopped, and chuckled as I looked at the banners.  I didn’t cry, not yet.

“A seventeen year old, bisexual, Black girl did more for this city than any billionaire’s non-profit has in years.  She kept you all safe, all while keeping up with her Godddamn English homework and this is the fucking ‘thanks’ she gets?  A couple of banners that won’t even stay up for the fucking week and nothing else?  Are you joking?”  I know that they might pull me off stage, but I don’t care anymore.  I have nothing to lose.

“Fuck this,”  I muttered.  “Today I lost my girlfriend.  Well, actually two days ago.  You want to know why?  Because she was protecting all of you!  My,”  I choked on a breath, my what?  My everything?  My light?  My world?  “My star died protecting one of you, all of you.  And after she was shot for that, she went home to try and fix herself up, like she always did.”  I breathed. 

 “You know what happened when she got there?  You know why I’m on this fucking stage and her fucking parents aren’t?”  

I sucked in air, hoping it would calm the anger in my bones, I felt it vibrate throughout my body.  There was so much.  

Too much.  

“Because they saw my star in her bloodied costume and thought ‘This is a fucking grand time to kick her out for being a faggot.’  Because our school posted a photo of someone at a big school event and got us kissing in the background.  Because her parents' love was conditional, and so they sent their dying daughter to have to use the last of her Goddamn power to get to me.  Do you fuckers know what happens then?  She can’t heal.  My star can’t heal.  Because, big fucking surprise, when you’re out almost everynight, not sleeping, and barley eating, your body can’t do much of anything, especially not heal.  For the record she had advanced healing, but because of this city’s bullshit and her lack of– everything, she was forced to heal slow as fuck like the rest of us and fucking die.” 

 I breathed.  

“My star fucking died, because you couldn’t pull your Goddamn fucking shit together!”  I yelled, accused the crowd, the cameras and breathed again, pushing the anger under my skin.  “You know, this was the summer we were going into grade twelve.  We were gonna graduate together, go to university, get married, the whole thing,”  I scoffed. “I mean we were going to different universities, she was going to do chemical engineering, Anisa was brilliant.”  I choked.  

No one had pulled me off stage yet.  They all just stared.  Why are they staring?  Stop looking at me.  Look at her, please.  Please.

“My Anisa was brilliant, and beautiful, and kind, and resilient, and you took her away from me,”  I sobbed.  “You know, she picked up the name star because I always called her ‘my star’ because I’m really into astrology and she was the light of my life.  She was everything I wished for, you know?  She was my star.”  I tried to make them understand, I tried to breathe.

“Anisa Cook was a hero, and she was a human.  And you all took both of those things for granted,”  I greedily sucked in air, this time, my throat opening more to let me.

“Never again will you get to.  And never again will I get to love her, in the way I got to,”  I looked down at my shoes, at my ring, and finally back up, into the nearest camera I could find that was recording.  “Today, we celebrate the most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet, inside and out; today, and always,”  I cleared my throat and breathed again.

“Thank you.”  I said and walked off of the stage, away from her face, and back to a home that would never be filled with her again.  No sneaking in my window, or coming through the front door, no more movie nights or dates. No more Anisa. No more Star. 

The crowd applauded.

I had the experience of publicly mourning the death of the love of my life who also happened to be a superhero.  I don’t recommend it.

Written by me! today:) got the idea while listening to "lucy~" by Corbon Amodio


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3 years ago

stupid things that bring me joy

meowing at a cat and they meow back 


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10 months ago

Here is a poem I wrote after chapter 395. Its a togachako poem from Himiko Toga's pov.

I see your eyes, so impassioned and meek

I’m filled with a longing, I must beseech

Your understanding of my nature, a leech

And the grave satisfaction I fervently seek

Previously constrained by an unforgiving society

I embarked with ambition to be authentic and free

In the foundations of my understanding, I knew no one would save me

But yet in you, I found something new

Mercy

Your sacrificial love is unabashedly pure

You endear me to a safe haven, a home, secure

A life deprived of your joy, is one I can’t endure

So I give my life to you, the final, irrevocable cure

Make no mistake of the love in my final actions

May time not tarnish your magnanimous passions

I ask you to appraise my soul in rose tinted glasses

I pray the smile that gained your favor, remain cherished in my absence


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10 months ago

This is the part two from Ochako Uraraka's pov. (Also is this how posting works? I'mnew to tumblr. Is this how to add a part two?)

Your desires were misguided

Your mistakes were taboo

But your smile full of adoration

Bred the fondness I still hold for you

The wicked you committed

I know, fairly well

But my love for you is irrevocable

Untarnishable, this spell

Within the darkness there was good

In you, there had always been

Unmistakable, in your final acts

In the kindness for a friend

I couldn't save you that day

So I will cherish you past the end

I will never forget your tragic fate

And to your grave I shall tend

The acceptance you always wanted

The love that you deserve

Is in my bleeding heart

And in the tears that vision blurs

I have a new name of endearment for you

To replace other's words of chagrin

Ambrosine,

May your new life begin

Here is a poem I wrote after chapter 395. Its a togachako poem from Himiko Toga's pov.

I see your eyes, so impassioned and meek

I’m filled with a longing, I must beseech

Your understanding of my nature, a leech

And the grave satisfaction I fervently seek

Previously constrained by an unforgiving society

I embarked with ambition to be authentic and free

In the foundations of my understanding, I knew no one would save me

But yet in you, I found something new

Mercy

Your sacrificial love is unabashedly pure

You endear me to a safe haven, a home, secure

A life deprived of your joy, is one I can’t endure

So I give my life to you, the final, irrevocable cure

Make no mistake of the love in my final actions

May time not tarnish your magnanimous passions

I ask you to appraise my soul in rose tinted glasses

I pray the smile that gained your favor, remain cherished in my absence


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1 year ago

Self-searching in the wilderness

I walk down the small path of the river,

letting my feet wounded, broken, and torn.

I’ve been searching for seconds, hours, and days,

the essence of my nowhere-to-be-seen desire,

the existence of my dreams and purposes,

Wrapped in emptiness when dawn comes,

I ask the stars, “Who am I?”

Within the darkness, I seek for a solemn whisper,

wishing the shining stars will wrap me with an answer

when the sunrise appears.


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1 year ago

Trapped, but Survived

Perhaps, it's her naivety,

that bring nothingness, oh beautiful yet messy disasters.

Putting too much faith in a world full of white lies,

she traps herself in a cage of wolves pretending to be sheep.

As days pass by,

a handmade of abstract mask is held in her left hand

as sweet as honey, but the most bitter pill that she swallows

she recognizes the world's true color.

And she finally learns her lessons,

because the world is always monochrome.


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1 year ago

Hundreds of origami flapping birds fly above your beautiful hair,

as your smile appears, captivating me in that slight moment of dizziness.

A classic, sweet, and soft lullaby that once was lost but now is alive from your solemn tune.

I catch myself mesmerized by decades of nostalgia feelings and your honey voice.

Despite the growing grey hair and wrinkled face, I’ll give my biggest love to you wholeheartedly.

- levouitee, ‘24 ❀


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1 year ago

Little, little things

Perhaps, a small sprig of magenta flower;

a short book talking about the world and its confusions, mess, chaos, gentleness, and affection,

a cup of warm, sweet coffee,

a spotless scent of aromatherapy,

the warmth of sunshine in the morning,

will lift up your day.

- levouitee, ‘24 ❀


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1 year ago

Savor a Silenced Pain.

Inflicted by wounds,

every second screams of pain, sorrow, and desperation

to seek for the hollowness swallowing thousands dreams , aspirations, and darkness at once.

I walk down the path of nothingness.

I put a mask where necessary, and throw it to a broken mirror.

I sneak out for a slight soul-wrenching freedom,

in silence where no voice of mine is heard the slightest.

- levouitee, ‘24


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1 year ago

Paint, or Pain?

Drawing a reflection of herself on a blank canvas,

She sees a solitude yet miserable self which has no smile on her delicate and beautiful face.

Frown. Cold. Heartless.

She paints with grey and black, as her life has been tuned in those persistent colors.

Once, she used red. Just once. On her lips.

The rest is a mirror of her little unknown world.

A world with hidden stories, lies, and secrets.

Worth thousands of tiredness sheltering on each strokes of a pain brush.

- levouitee


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1 year ago
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I don’t usually write or even post what I write, and I’m more likely to leave a fic alone for years but!! I decided I would post my fic here nonetheless

Summary:

Mélie meant it to be a quick grab and go job.

She swears.

It's not her fault that the way too hot daughter of the resident lord found her stealing and decided to help her. And it's definitely not her fault that said way too hot daughter asked her to come back. Though perhaps it is her fault that she did go back. ...multiple times.

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: A Plague Tale (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mélie/Amicia de Rune, Arthur & Mélie (A Plague Tale), Amicia de Rune & Hugo de Rune Characters: Mélie (A Plague Tale), Amicia de Rune, Arthur (A Plague Tale), Hugo de Rune, Robert de Rune, Béatrice de Rune, Laurentius (A Plague Tale) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, alternate universe - no rats, Useless Lesbians, POV Third Person


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10 months ago

The way they show jealousy for each other when they are known as deadly enemies makes my heart giggle with excitement<3

(Chapter 15)

The Way They Show Jealousy For Each Other When They Are Known As Deadly Enemies Makes My Heart Giggle
The Way They Show Jealousy For Each Other When They Are Known As Deadly Enemies Makes My Heart Giggle

hmm..., I should have made this into a fanfic story, not just a oneshoot:/

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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6 years ago

Carpet in the Sand

This is an original poem that I wrote about three years ago, right after I graduated from high school.

Salty air ruffles tents and our clothes Our friends lay in the sand on these late July nights. We chat and smoke and fall in love with the stars All our paths intertwining with one another’s again.

And my mind thinks of you and wishes  that your’s had never separated from mine.

I become drunk on the song of the waves,  imagining your lips muttering “ What a lovely view.”  


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6 years ago

A poem I wrote by picking the middle word my phone suggested

Idk why Dumbledore is a man who has been in a relationship for the weekend and I had a lot to talk to you

And you were all the best and the other guy who was the one who had to go out there for 20yrs to get dinner together for the first year

And I wanna be there for you and you can help us with that right here in a minute

Please

Thank yoooo and thank yoooo and hope for a great day to see endgame and the secular nature that is not a great idea

but it doesn't matter how long is there for you and your child and you are a great man threw away a few things you don't want but I have a final question for the next few hours before the game was done

To the play of a connection with a consontr or something that would have made it better to have a final round and the next one was a bit more of the game

I think its ok for me and I had a lot to do something about the team that I was in the game with a team of players who is going through poetry with a concentration camp that has a great reputation

And I had to do something about the world.


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5 years ago

For J

I'm not asking you to love

To be honest I don't know if I could return the feeling 

But if I could ask something of you 

I would ask that you pine after me

That you think about me when you look out over the rolling hills as you drive to work

Or that you can still feel my kisses long after I have left you 

The way I giggled when your nose touched my neck for the first time

That you swear my perfume is still on your clothes no matter how many times they go through the wash

I want you to sit alone and overhear a conversation and remember something that I said and then you laugh to yourself but get embarrassed because the people who see are judging you and really try to transport me there with you 

That sometimes you can feel the ghost of my hand against your palm. 

Then it grows and covers the rest of your skin, like an itch that's odd yet comforting 

You rub your fingers together, wondering if you're going crazy 

And as your day goes by, you notice sexual innuendos in everything, like who many times can a person hears the words " climax" and " erupt" and natural grunts and sighs in an English class and not think about them coming out of my mouth and how good it feels that you're the reason why 

That you sit in your car and think about the excitement and fear and warmth and shivers that wouldn't stop expelling from your body as we dove on the highway and you prayed that I wouldn't notice 

That you pass by people and places and think that you see me or that you can magic me coming around the corner into your arms but you are not that lucky 

That you get jealous whenever you just see a Hispanic woman with another man 

That your fist clenched with bitterness and unshed tears because why can't you have that 

That you think about getting in your car and driving 3 and a half hours to come to my town and you will find me and spend every moment after in my dorm on my twin bed

Singing hymns and love songs into each other's skin

But then you realize that's way out of line and just end up wondering what color my comforter is 

Then you start to look at my Instagram a lot 

An unsettling amount and feel gross doing it but…

There's only like three photos and they're old 

You hope that I'll post anything just to be sure I'm not a figment of your imagination

That you can see me and hear me and feel me

You find my Facebook that hasn't been touched in months 

Other posts with me in them from other peoples accounts from long before you knew me

You wish we'd known each other forever

And sometimes 

In those really early hours of the morning when you can't sleep and feel like the only person in the world 

You dream while you're awake, you let your mind go far

More than you would ever tell anyone 

Things that you would never dare tell anyone, not even me 

But ohhhhh 

You wish you could 

The next spring and summer and autumn and winter all lay at your feet like a Tralfamadorian novel

" No beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love are the depths of the many marvelous moments seen all at once."

It's all as clear as it ever could be 

Laughter, pillow talk, fights, forgiveness, drives, farmers markets, late nights, dive bars, kickbacks, no contact, all day conversations, lust, apocalypses, new days, never-ending light.

Meeting my mother and hoping she’ll like you but I already know it will go bad but you're here to stay and she warms up to you soon 

Ifs, whats, yeses, nos, maybes, thens, nevers, always.

All more and more petrifying yet alluring 

I'm not asking you to love me 

I'm too afraid that it'd scare you off

But I want at least one of these to go through your mind

Because they seem to never leave mine.


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5 years ago

Tales from fiction writing class

Something you remember but you’re not sure why

I don’t know why I remember the light brown mushrooms that would sometimes grow by the flagpole. 

Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, when I would be a safety patrol at my elementary school, it would be my job to raise the flag outside at the front of the building. The pole was surrounded by a circle of concrete that was surrounded by a circle of yellow and purple marigolds. On the side closest to the building, occasionally, there would be a mushroom that would grow there. 

Somedays, I would walk over it and try not to notice it, giving it only a sideways glance. Then, somedays, I would enjoy stepping on it and feeling my shoe softly squish it down into the dirt. I would never touch it with my hands because it could be poisonous and it would get in my mouth and kill me. 

I stomp it down then wait a month for it to regrow then I stomp it back down. Then the school gardener found out about it constantly regrowing and pulled it out by the roots and I was sad.  


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