deadly-writing-urges

[deadly-writing-urges]

Look at you, still trying to drown me in self pity. You will not take me, I am still afloat, still swimming and grasping the waves that crash. The water that splashes my ears will not deter my ventures.

As long as I breathe, I live.

[deadly-writing-urges]

[deadly-writing-urges]

"Hot Summer nights mid July..."

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Trigger Warning: Blood and Gore

Nesta didn’t seem to care as she bent over. As she took up his fallen head and lifted it. Lifted it in the air and stared at it—into Hybern’s dead eyes, his gaping mouth.

She did not smile. She only stared and stared and stared.

Savage. Unyielding. Brutal.

art: court_of_sketches [instagram]

[deadly-writing-urges]

The woman that is in the back of my brain is my defender. She is always on guard, always prepared and never fails to make me feel safe. That woman lurks under my skin waiting to release her claws and make sharp witty and hurtful comments about you. She is creatively cruel, but never sorry for it.

There is another woman who battles for the spotlight, she watches cartoons and paints. She likes going out for coffee and laughing with likeminded individuals. She longs to be a mother and correct all previous mistakes made by her own.

I am the mentally ill one. The one that struggles to open her eyes each morning knowing the amount of mistakes I will not correct. I am still speaking to our mother regardless of her cruelty. I am exhausted.

[deadly-writing-urges]

I am loved to the point of knowing what happens next. Its predictable, unwavering and unconditional.

When I make mistakes, I am not a burden, I am human.

You love me the same if not more for all my flaws and blunders and for that I am eternally thankful.

[deadly-writing-urges]

How odd it is to crave something that has caused you so much pain. No matter how painful it was, it was different, it was the attention I needed. Your cruel intentions went unnoticed by me, because all I saw was the intention, that little bit of effort.

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[deadly-writing-urges]

Your Biggest Regret?

Giving people permission to cause me irrevocable harm and then thanking them for their time.

[deadly-writing-urges]

Cosy Winter Aesthetic

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I was burning, while you came blaming me for the smell of ashes. -Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Waiting for Fall

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Maybe in another life we loved each other right.

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The pain I don't say out loud, builds a home inside me.

Olivia Gatwood

[deadly-writing-urges]

Write about the worst day of your life.

It was the end of summer, still warm, but cloudy. I was 7 years old that I can remember. Your funeral will forever be indented in my brain, because I didn't know they made coffins that small.

My little brother was taken too early and my little head was trying to everything to wrap my brain around it. I asked my Dad if he had been the cause. He surely wasn't but he had been the villain in my story for so long, I had a deep imbedded fear.

I stayed in my grandmothers the night before the funeral in order for my parents to have to explain very little of what was happening. They didn't think we would grasp the severity of the situation, but I did. As a result of them trying to remain strong, I had seen them uncaring or unbotherred and that shatterred me more.

I remember the car ride to the church, the coffin was big enough to fit in my lap, I still remember the texture of the lace trim wrapping the rim of the lid.