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Peek into my character's past!

Send me a…

– 〆 for a childhood story – ღ for a drabble about a romance/their love life – ⌆ for a story about their family/home life – € for a bad memory that still haunts them – ✢ for a good memory that makes them smile

Or…

Send me a name/place/event or situation from my character’s past and they will just talk about that one thing.

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☠ Drabble list-- You can send one anytime.

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Poetry Meme: Richard Siken

Poetry Meme. Send a number 1- 28 for a starter or drabble featuring our two characters based on one of Richard Siken's lines.

Keep reading

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                                       Home         The Law       The Sinnners

poem by Venetta O

promo credit to the lovely misshoodoolady

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                                     Home         The Law        The Fuck Ups

promo to the talented misshoodoolady

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                                     Home         The Law        The Fuck Ups

promo to the talented misshoodoolady

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                                     Home         The Law        The Fuck Ups

promo to the talented misshoodoolady

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⟲ Anastasia

Childhood Memory Meme

Stasia was four, and her nanny had decided to take her to her favorite place in the world, the beach. Having spent so much time in Paris, it was few and far between, these visits to the beach. The child loved the smell of the air, the way her nanny’s smile brightened when she would look at her playing in the sand. Best of all they would be gone for three days, three whole days away from mommy and her cruel words. Maybe the best part of all was three whole days away from daddy, but she didn’t want to think about him, not right now. No, today was going to be a good day, she wouldn’t cry, not even once. As they reached the sand, her nanny put her down and Stasia took off, flying towards the water, her giggling piercing the air. Turning around she spoke. “Look! Birdies! Can we catch one? Please?! I promise I would never hurt it, never ever.” The little girl was confused by the sad look in the woman’s eyes.

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They ask me how did you get here? Can’t you see it on my body?

Warsan Shire, from “Conversations About Home (at a deportation centre)” in her book Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth (via pridefulmorningstar)

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                                                “—She is a { m e s s }

                                    of   contradictions  ;

                                                            E L E G A N T  yet  (W I L D)

                                     C L E V E R   yet

                                                  (I M P U L S I V E ) ”

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This is why it hurts the way it hurts. You have too many words in your head. There are too many ways to describe the way you feel. You will never have the luxury of a dull ache. You must suffer through the intricacy of feeling too much.

Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You  (via rxckless-intentarchive)

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Lie down, lie easy. / Let me shipwreck in your thighs.

Dylan Thomas, Under Milk Wood (via mythofdevotion)

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Robin wanted to know if I use my beauty for good or evil. Evil, I assured him. Lie. Truth: I’m as pure as fresh snow over Washington Square Park on a winter morning, before the dogs and people and machines of this hard, hard city batter its perfect, peaceful beauty.

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i lie to everyone but mostly i think i lie to myself