Random Writing - Tumblr Posts

Watching the sunrise

Even though I can’t really see it from the front yard I can stand by our mailbox and see how the sun peeks over the mountains and how the pastel pink fades to a golden crust that may only last a few minutes, is beautiful enough to pull you into a trance of watching the pink fade and the golden crust be consumed by a soft but relentless blue that will hide the beauty of the golden crust and the pastel pink for many hours, while you wait for the return of the golden crust you go through the hours like any other day but once it is time you are pulled back into a trance, a magnetic pull that you can’t escape until you are face to face with the true beauty of the golden crust once again ,but now it’s more magnificent then before, It’s beauty far too complex to explain, no matter what you try, taking a photo won’t be able to describe the cool breeze as a warning of nightfall or the feeling of peacefully sitting in silence as you take in every detail of Mother Nature, no video will be able to give the steadiness of your calm breaths as you smell the grass you’re standing on, there’s no way to be able to truly understand what it feels like to be sucked into the beauty of nature by looking at a still image or a shaky video, there are just some things that technology will never be able to give us and sometimes you don’t need to immediately pull out your phone when you see a nice sunrise or a nice sunset something’s are meant to be enjoyed in real time with our own eyes just for a moment so you can have the full memory of the natural beauty you are alive to witnesses then you can take a photo or a video so you can show others that there is still beauty in the world and that you can find it if you look up every once in awhile when you are walking down the sidewalk instead of looking at pictures of the very thing you could fully take in for yourself if you put down the phone for a little while

“She had stars on her cheek; he thought. The perfect alignment on her skin was the first thing he noticed. Not her eyes, or her hair, not even the scars that marred her body. It was the stars of freckles. He wanted to run his finger down the expanse of her cheek, tracing the outline of the constellation. He wanted to count the freckles, kiss each one. She watched him as he smiled softly at her; his stormy eyes were calm. Her chocolate orbs took in the intimate scene; together, they were vulnerable—alone. Trusting each other with their scars and their secrets. She wanted to run her blunt nails down his pale skin, kiss his neck, and trace the ink that covered his most horrid scar. Together they took in each other, committing their bodies to their memory, trying to memorize their imperfections and perfections. To him, no imperfection mattered. No. She was perfect in his eyes. Her stars, her constellations; it made his heart jump when he recognized the shape. How did he not notice when they were in Hogwarts? Perhaps it was the way her hair was always untamed that took away the attention of her stars? Or maybe he never really stared at her with the intensity of a lover, only as a rival? No matter, he wanted to slap his younger self for never realizing she bore the constellation of their namesake. He wondered, in the back of his mind, if this was a way of the gods? To mark her skin, to tell the world that she was meant for him and only him? Or perhaps it was only a coincidence? He didn’t know or care. All he cared about was her. This witch in front of him. This goddess. He cared only for her: Hermione Granger.”

Artwork from Twitter by @wantsgmarie

Dialogue written by yours truly!

Official First Day of Winter -

Yesterday. So, I randomly felt like putting this down. Even though it is late....

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You lifted your head, your face turned to the sky, eyes closed as you smiled and lifted your arms. It had been so long - so long since you got to experience snow like this. Where you were from, it didn't snow much. You almost felt like it was a fairytale or something mythical from the past.

It didn't help that the only time you heard about snow in real life was the extreme examples and everything. It always seemed like an all or nothing with heavy consequences. But a soft snow like this - where you are in a white wonderland and the snow is gracefully falling all around...

"It's almost like soft white petals gracing us from above. Giving us a view that we never expect but surrounds us in gentle reminder of the possibilities in this world," a warm, soft voice stated, saying your exact thoughts.

You loved hearing his thoughts, they could be so poetic. He is able to word what you felt into comprehensive words when you originally thought there was no way to describe it. It was one of his many talents and something you never grew tired of. Plus his voice, his tone, the warmth, the richness, it all added to the real meaning.

"Yeah," you softly replied, not being able to add to it properly. You didn't want to ruin the perfection that was his prose.

Your smile grew as you turned to him, opening your eyes as you felt the familiar warm spreading in the hand that he reached up to hold and then brought it to his side. His smile was soft and loving, saying more than he could.

Yeah, it was moments like these that you live for. What a wonderful way to start Winter.

I close my eyes and I always see, Someone filled with love as they gaze at me Soft smiles and words exchanged gently, Whispers and kisses floating like a soft breeze, I feel their comforting arms wrap around my waist, All my pain and hurt instantly erased, I hear their melodic laughter dance through the air, As we wander around without a single care, I smell their soft flowery scent, Relaxing my nerves and I know that we're meant To love and hold and care for each other, To know and support and admire one another... But I know such a thing will never exist, Because my mind creates things that I dearly miss, So now all I can do is close my eyes, And pretend that my dreams will become real life.

-To my emotions, sincerely me- I buried you a long time ago, And somehow you won't let me go, I feel you crawling at the back of my mind, Trying to take control all the time, Your presence haunts my thoughts at night, But I hold you back with all my might. Because what use is a machine when it begins to rust? What use is paper if it turns to dust? Why are you still here when I'll never find trust? Since all you've ever done is destroy My success, my friendships, other people's joy, So stay in your box and it will soon be time, For you to finally die.

My ocean

It's odd. When I'm truly sad about something I can't cry. No matter how much I want to, my body won't let me, it's some perverted form of torture. The pain wells up inside me but never finds release, the tears never fall. So it keeps building up and building up until I've reached my breaking point. Then it all tumbles out at once. I breathe so much that I suffocate on air, I cry so much that I drown in my own tears and I scream so much my throat swells and closes. I'm violently thrown into the crashing waves of my emotions that have been forced into isolation for so long. And every time, I almost die.

Senses

I can't see anything. I can't see the clouds of impenetrable smoke, The old demons that finally awoke From their slumber that's seemed to last forever, Yet they seem to reappear whenever. But I will close my eyes, And make myself blind. I can't hear anything. I can't hear the echoing screams that haunt my dreams, The pleading that screeches from inside of me, Constantly yelling, begging for release But I will cover my ears. And make myself deaf. I can't feel anything. I can't feel the sharp claws that maim my skin, The powerful hands that wrap around my neck, The buried feelings that I kept, Within, and the demons still find their way in. But I will burn my nerves. And make myself unfeeling.

Pride poem

Your beautiful smile that radiates joy And your silky hair that floats in the wind, Proves to me that you're better than any boy, And that this could never be a sin. The feel of your hand when it's interlaced with mine, And your beautiful eyes in their bright blue shade, Proves to me that I could only meet you once in a lifetime And that this is how we were made. I've admired you with a thousand looks, I've felt you with a thousand touches, I've loved you with a thousand kisses. Now I can come out of the closet because you've taught me what love really is.

Hanahaki disease

Heaving, The flutter in my lungs grows each time I inhale. Choking, It's enamouring flocculence rises up my throat as my face turns pale. Coughing, Its softness caresses the inside of my mouth as its scent infatuates my senses. Spluttering, It reveals its scarlet shade from the corner of my lips, prohibiting denial-filled sentences. Gagging, The clusters of sweetness drift forward, spilling themselves onto floor. Crying, The petals have made me breathless once more. Weeping, They could make the prettiest rose ever cited. Sobbing, But they'll never flow together, because this is Unrequited.

Hanahaki disease

Heaving, The flutter in my lungs grows each time I inhale. Choking, It’s enamouring flocculence rises up my throat as my face turns pale. Coughing, Its softness caresses the inside of my mouth as its scent infatuates my senses. Spluttering, It reveals its scarlet shade from the corner of my lips, prohibiting denial-filled sentences. Gagging, The clusters of sweetness drift forward, spilling themselves onto floor. Crying, The petals have made me breathless once more. Weeping, They could make the prettiest rose ever cited. Sobbing, But they’ll never flow together, because this is Unrequited.

Mercilessly, I throw daggers at everyone around me,

I carve my “confidence” into my surroundings

And cut anyone that ever doubted me.

Carelessly, my sharp tongue slices wounds into others,

Until my blade is used so frequently it dulls

And you can’t tell the difference between it

And a bitter breeze.

But my own sharp tongue cuts my mouth,

And I choke on my words until my throat bleeds,

My wounds never heal and they keep getting deeper,

Until I can hardly feel anything.

No matter how hard I try to stop,

I lose every battle against myself

And my relentless words will continue to cut,

Until none of my “self” remains.

The hardest thing is feeling you everywhere.

I see your reflection in my morning coffee,

I feel your warmth in the summer breeze,

I hear your whispers in my favourite songs,

But I still can’t find you.

I

I smile.

Shoulders square, back straight, feet planted firmly in the ground.

If I squint slightly when I laugh it’s more believable.

They won’t notice.

I speak.

Voice loud, strong, pitch low, it bellows through the room.

If I raise my voice on every-other syllable it sounds more believable.

They won’t notice.

I move.

Averagely-paced, deliberate movements, flowing slightly.

If I lean forward with purpose as I walk it looks more believable.

They won’t notice.

I’m getting better.

They never notice, they never will.

I’m fine. Really.

No one would suspect me,

Because I’m the best actress alive,

That’s the only thing I’m certain of.

So when I say I’m fine,

They believe me.

And now, they don’t even ask.

Reply

I cling on to your every word,

Your every expression, sigh, whisper,

I desperately try to learn,

All of your mannerisms, gestures, features,

I hit send and I tremble awaiting your response,

I overthink our interactions when they’ve long passed,

My anxiety builds until the weight is too much to bear,

And you continue the torture without a single care.

God

I thought that you were perfect,

Perfect for me,

And that we were a perfect combination

But now I see.

When you wronged me, I tried to look inwards to decipher,

What I had failed to do, what made me unlikeable.

But I was foolish and naive to believe that you were flawless,

And like a false icon, I clung to you for guidance.

Not a single apology was expected of you and it was my fault,

I treated you like some twisted domestic god,

So now it’s my time to accept our flaws,

And destroy the pedestal I placed you upon.

I was wondering why you two began to effortlessly blend,

You both seemed to constantly go hand in hand,

It troubled me for weeks,

Was there something wrong with me

That forbade me from entering your sacred ring?

Then it all came to fruition,

An epiphany at midnight, as sweet and natural as birds first flight;

The toxic group together with incredible might,

What better way for you to wallow in self-pity,

Than to gather in small numbers and complain about how you’re living?

So I’ve decided that I won’t let it trouble me any longer,

And for that I believe I am much stronger.

My Ship pt 2

I halted all expeditions and ended my adventures,

I threw my anchor overboard and stilled my ship,

I flung my caution to the wind and promised I’d never turn back,

I abandoned my freedom so I could feel security with you.

But when I left my ship unattended to enjoy this island paradise,

You slashed my sails and destroyed my masts,

You were like a parasite.

My Ship pt 3

So when I was forced to flee,

To escape your toxic clutches,

I left half of what I was,

With my ship destroyed and rusted.

A cautionary tale for young travellers at sea,

Do not stop at any nearby beach,

Your trust will be exploited and your kindness betrayed,

Remain free on the sea for all your days.

I’ve been working through a labyrinth.

Large stone walls,

Shrouds of darkness,

Sharp turns and endless paths,

Sometimes the walls narrow and squeeze the air out of my lungs,

Sometimes they’re so far away that I don’t know where I’m wandering; a void...

Fears creep up on me,

Tears blur my vision,

My darkest shadows seem to bleed into every crevice,

I scream and shriek,

Paralysed by my own mind,

I run down the same paths,

Loop around myself,

Over and over I get lost,

Anxiety cripples me until

I can’t move.

But sometimes after waves of miserable failure,

I take the right turn

And I find it.

Being a writer is so random.

I was peeling cucumbers the other day, then all of a sudden, I got that great little idea that'll give one of my sub plots a great twist.

Let me tell you, it has nothing to do with cucumbers.