rainelore

[rainelore]

Hello everyone, I hope you are all well 👋🌹

At the moment I send you this message, my aunt, a 60-year-old Palestinian woman, is besieged by the occupation in the northern Gaza Strip 💔��

Despite the loss of our homes, my aunt and I, our priority is to get her out and provide her with a safe passage and a travel opportunity to safety in Egypt when the Rafah crossing opens again 🙏🙏💔

I hope you can help us by donating or sharing. Thank you, my friends 🫂🤍

Hello, I'm sorry I can't donate (I'm a minor) but I will post this here and hope someone sees this and helps you!

For anyone seeing this post, this fundraiser is vetted by 90-ghost!

$3,754/$50,000

If you can, please help!

Go fund me link

(Apologies for any typos, I have difficulty typing on my phone and grammar isn't natural for me).

[rainelore]

No tears left to make me Cry

I don't hate it

No, how could I?

Yet how could I not?

If I told my brother I'd be left to rot

If I told my parents they'd stare in confusion

So here is my confession

I am not your perfect Christian daughter

I may have the grades

I may have the modest clothing

But the idea fills me with loathing

A mold

Something I've been told

Not by word, but by subtext

It leaves me vexed

Hexed

I hold so many secrets that you will never know

A cloak covering me, a projection

Section myself

You will only ever know a funhouse mirror of me

While the rest of me is let to fly and flee

A buzzing bee

A soaring hawk

Not part of your flock

You will never know me, myself, or I

Call it a lie

But I refuse to die

To let you kill parts of me

I have no tears left for you to make me cry

[rainelore]

Commission for a friend

This is of one of my best friend's OC's. Took me a while cause I got busy, but they really loved it, gave it to them on their birthday funnily enough (It wasn't meant to be a birthday gift, just happened that the day I could go e it to them was their birthday.)

(P.S, the area covered in that blue line is just my IRL name, I had to cross it out because privacy.)

[rainelore]

Float up, Fall down

Made this for a class assignment. I had to make a playlist about my life, and make a "Album cover" for it, called the playlist Float up, Fall down, referencing the ups and downs of my life, the injury and the recovery.

The piece is supposed to be able to read the words even if upside down, but they only make sense if you look at the right part at the right angle. The float up part makes sense when right side up, and the Fall down makes sense when turned upside down. Otherwise it says Up float and Down fall.

[rainelore]

Trying out a new style

[rainelore]

Burn my wings

TW: Mentions of scars, and vague remarks to self destruction (Nothing too graphic), themes of burnout.

I've done it about a thousand times

I've sought greatness

Now singed with lateness

I reach for the stars

But meet my scars

My marks

From your remarks

I come to please

But now you hear my pleads

My work I can't reap

And exhaustion creeps

I get no sleep

And a faithless leap

Icarus and I share one thing in common

We have both have fallen

Into seas

Our wings desecrated and diseased

From the sun showing it's displease

The wings I've built over a life-time, turning to pouring wax

It tacks and sacks me down

I fail to meet your expectations

Or were they even yours?

When I hold them up and they plague my mind

They bind and blind me

I cannot see as I destroy myself

Or can I?

Am I blind to the destruction, or to the solution?

I seek seclusion

Isolation

It's desolation and hallucination

Yet now I sit

Writing I knit

Weaving a place where I can quit

And fit

Building new wings

It stings

But perhaps this time I won't let the sun singe

A new spring, a new wing

[rainelore]

Just wanted to share this watercolor painting off a coffee cup I made last month.

[rainelore]

Soooo, I drew one of my DnD characters a while ago, wanted to try my hand at graphite as a watercolor artist.

[rainelore]

My Muse

TW: Light mentions blood, and some themes of depression and anxiety (Though not outright naming it)

I have a question

A question I've left unasked

A question I should unmask

A question I couldn't even grasp

"Why are you here?"

Why do you torment

With such clear intent

Why do you do this?

I miss the old days of bliss

Where you were not here

Where my mind was a clean slate

Where my shoulders had less weight

Oh how those days were great

But now all my mind can do is ache and wait

But all I can do now is hate

Not others

Not the world

But me and you

I just know your words aren't simply true

But they make me blue

You swamp my mind in the dead of night

With no hope or light in sight

And that isn't quite right

Yet you wouldn't know right, would you?

With all the distaste and despite

You are no man

No woman

No person

Yet you bring quite a fight

And I still write

You are my muse

With dull blue hues

And bright red blood

Perhaps I just need a hug?

[rainelore]

The night is my lover (A poem)

The night is my lover

The night dips me in the moonlight

Showing my true beauty

The night despite my tiredness picks me up

Picks me up as though I am its bride

Twirling me around as though a gem

A diamond so beautiful

So pure

So clear that no one could compare



The night is my truth

The abyss that I stare into

Beautiful stars I call eyes

The abyss who stares back at me so lovingly

The abyss into which I pour my darkest thoughts

The abyss which would not judge me

Who's darkness helps conceal the thoughts I would never say



The night is the one who will always care for me

Who will be cool and calm

Who's quiet comforts me

When my mind is anything but still

When my thoughts are a swirling storm

The night is my lifeboat



The night will be there

Reliable without wear

No matter the time it will always come back

Always there no matter where

It will be back



The night is my lover

The one who holds my hand when I cry an ocean

The one who dances with me when I have no audience

The one who smiles at me through the window

The one who will always be there

And care

[rainelore]

To whom do I write this? (Repost from my Write the world)

When the night falls, why do I walk?

Why do I wake and walk, think, and talk?

Why do I write this?

I stand on my messed bed that messaged me on my worst nights

I slip behind the curtain and make my face one with the window

The window is cold and crisp

Somber yet calm

And the cat looks on with me

A dark, yet familiar night stands before me

As if an old friend who always had their arms open for me

It was a Saturday wasted

My days are always like that

I make myself a promise that I could never keep

"Things will be better," I say

"You'll do something good"

I plant the saplings in hopes of a great apple tree sprouting

But the apples are small and the tree the opposite

I plant the seeds but never harvest

But to whom do I write this?

I write for what seems no purpose

No greatness

No kindness

I simply just do

But if I can't answer why, then to who? 

Is it to the public?

But the public would cast their gaze upon my work and I,

And their judgment so too will be cast a spell 

Do I write to those who lurk, a cat in the night?

Who is all so familiar with the comfort of the glass and bed

And the familial bond with the night

Or to the oily-skinned girl whose mind always lingers and lurks but is never fully there?

Who's hatred for herself causes her to pick up a pen

To create herself the same strength just a different emotion 

A whole world separated by the paper door and unlocked with the click of a pen and the scratch of a pencil

Or do I simply write to the car whose lights flash by like lightning?

To whom do I write this solemness too

To all

To us

To me

To whom am I writing this for

And why do I even bother to pick up my pencil and unlock the door?

I will never truly know the why and who will I?

[rainelore]

No ideas

I wanna write something so badly right now, yet I don't want to if that makes sense. Like I have some motivation but no motivation to write anything I currently have. I've started multiple novels but I either can't remember most of them, they're not interesting anymore, or the characters have changed in my head and it'd be too much of a hassle to recharacterize them in the work. Idk man, I need ideas for something new to write to get me back into novel writting.

[rainelore]

Upon a Bench You Will See Them (A short story)

TW: Suicide, Blood, Depression, Discussion of death, mentioned cutting off the radial artery.

(I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, I have difficulty with those things so that may be shown in my work.)

Upon a bench, you will see them. You’ll blink, thinking they weren’t real, thinking you were seeing a ghost, and you aren’t quite wrong. Upon a bench, you will see them, death, in their furry glory. No fury within their silted pupils, just a gentle love and familiarity that life could never show.

My eyes closed shut, glued together and locked with the strongest chain, and suddenly opened and pried from the familiar trappings. I glanced around, feeling the cool air slowly numb my fingertips. I sat there on the cobbled and cracked ground. Behind me is a warm, vivid world of plants and life, many animals could be seen with their kin, completely unaware of me. In front of me a withering forest with a cool metal bench with gray wood. Below me a path, that went from the warm soft dirt to cool, graveled, and cobbled rocks that digged and pulled at my skin, the pain in my hands slowly disappearing as the cold numbed me. To both of my sides what seemed to be a gradient, a blend between both conflicting worlds, both in play and both existing and transitioning. I glanced around once more and saw a cat sitting on the bench. Fluffy black fur, and light eyes with a nicked ear and a somber aura around it. It sat on the edge closest to me staring at me, it had gotten up and walked to the other edge, flicking its tail in the direction of the edge closest to me, as if gesturing to sit down with it.

I tried to use the ground to push myself up, but I still wasn’t completely numb, and I gave the lightest wince as I felt the rocks dig into me once more. The cat looked at my now bleeding hands, the newer blood dripping, and the older less warm blood turning lukewarm and slightly cold as I welcomed the dull ache in my hands. Though with a flick of the cat’s tail, the ground turned from hostile rocks to a cool, cobbled stone ground, I glanced around, somewhat amazed by what happened, or at least as amazed as I could be. I pushed myself up, my hands still bleeding a bit as I sat down on one edge of the bench, opposite the cat.

“I apologize for that; the ground may hurt sometimes.” The cat spoke quietly, and as it spoke my amazement grew, yet it still felt underwhelming. “You may wonder where you are, and who I am, so I shall answer those questions.” The cat paused “I am Death, or at least the tamer of death, souls come here hoping to escape and I calm them and help them reach peace so they may continue their journey. This is the place between, where one travels from life,” They paused pointing their tail to the vivid blooming land to my right. “And to my domain, the afterwards.” They responded to their previous statement, pointing their tail to my left where a large stone arch could be seen, presumably the, or at least an entrance to the ‘afterwards’ they speak of.

“I know you might be frightened, as your life came short when you weren’t ready, but I have helped many souls like you before, I helped calm the storm within them so they could rest in the afterwards. And I will do so to you as well.” They said with gentleness, looking towards me, but all I could do was bite the bottom of my lip and hold my tongue before I could think of the right words. “I’m actually not all the scared, I was expecting things to just go dark rather than all of this,” I answered looking at my blood and how it pooled a bit on the bench, then I noticed a huge scar on my wrist, right below my hand. The cat looked at me, looking through my eyes for what seemed to be answers where none were, so I continued. “I just want to enter the afterwards and be done with things, to be frank with you,” I said, glancing at them. They seemed troubled, or at the very least puzzled “How did you die…?” They said they were walking closer to me. “Oh? Just a simple cut to my wrist here, the radial artery was slit deep enough and well…” I paused “I died.” I said, holding my wrist and showing the huge scar closer to them. They seemed even more troubled “What caused that cut?” they asked, glancing at the scar and then at my eyes back and forth. “I think you already know,” I said bluntly. “Oh my…” They sat down once again and looked forward at me. “I’ve met spirits like you, less common than most, but haunting, nonetheless. This wasn’t your time, was it?” They asked, somberness showing in their eyes, despite the blankness of such eyes. “I don’t know, I mean can you consider suicide ever truly being my time? I choose it but it’s far from natural, but yet again, many die without even any kinship to a natural death, so is suicide really that much different?” I said, acting like I knew anything about death, compared to this creature, who seemed to be endless compared to my limited being.

“You are right about one thing, many have it unfair, detached from natural death, and brought to my domain unwilling. But when I’ve met people of your kind, who choose death I wonder.” “Wonder what?” I responded distracted by the blood dripping through the gaps of the bench and the blood dripping from my rested hands, no longer feeling pain in my hands. Maybe I lost too much blood or maybe I was getting closer to the afterwards, I couldn’t be sure. “How would those people who are brought to me without a choice react to those who choose to walk this path?” they said quietly, in deep thought. “Well, it’s not their decision to make or judge. I chose this. And it’s too late to go back.” I said, thinking of all the times people told me not to do this for that exact reason, it felt distasteful the first few times, but I had gotten used to it. “There’s no point, life here seems so vivid here, but it feels so much closer to the rocky ground that cut at my hands a moment ago.” The cat just looked at me with concern, it placed a paw on my leg, then another, as it climbed up on my lap and looked into my eyes. “Life can be like that, but with the cards that you were dealt, you can make something great. Through careful placement, you can make a card house and defy the cards that seem so upsetting.” The cat said, looking up at me. “But that card house is all too easy to knock down, and then what?” I said looking away from the cat, a frown forming on my face. “Then you make another card house, you rebuild, change your strategy and improve.” They said, trying to make a hopeful smile. “But it never changes, does it? No matter how much you improve it, it falls apart once more, it’s helpless, hopeless.”

The cat just looked at my eyes, which were now slightly teary as I bit down at my frown. The cat seemed to read my eyes as if I were a book and just placed its head on my lower chest before curling down on my lap and purring. I started to cry at this, silent now yet it felt so comforting, no words exchanged to try and change my mind, just purring as I sobbed. They said nothing, feeling their words fall on deaf ears, but they seemed to get through to me more with their silence and warmth than their words could ever. “I have never truly talked your kind out of your fate successfully, and perhaps I never will, or maybe this could be the first time I do so, could you be the first?” They finally said, interrupting the silence, but the warmth never left.