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keepmovinjunior · 23 days

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planned starter for ˗ˏˋ @vigilantdesert *

Megara's not sure she's ready for this.

❝ MEG, LISTEN. This is easily the last gig you'll have to do, eh? ❞ Hades's voice rings in her head; she remembers his speech from only yesterday. The way he'd moved in next to her, one arm thrown, uninvited, across her shoulders ━━ looking out, dreamfully, to the horizon, a greedy spark in his eye ━━ this was the last phase of his takeover. She can still smell the sulphur on his breath in her ear. Ugh.

❝ Picture it, okay, see, it's like this. There's the Gerudo flute, okay. And the one Chief. She fights, bam, the end, we lose, okay, it's back to the Styx for both of us. The flute plays, bam. We lose. You get it. Two simple objectives for you. Easy remedy. But with your fabulous acting skills, we've practically got this in the bag! You pull this one off right, see, and Mt. Olympus is mine; freedom is yours! You're off the hook. Never have to do a thing for me again for as long as you stay alive and kickin'. What could be better than that, eh? ❞ Hades knows exactly how to get under her skin, because nothing is, and she hates him for it. ❝ 'Course, ❞ with a flash of his hideous crocodile smile, as if he's read her mind, ❝ you're always welcome to call anytime, babe. We'll miss ya. ❞

There is nothing she wants more than to be free of Hades.

And so, with a heavy and tired heart, unfeeling and unabashed, she had agreed. She will infiltrate the Gerudo. She will distract the Chief; she will steal the flute. She will help the Lord of the Dead release the Calamity Ganon. She will finally be free. What else does she have to do, really?

Perhaps, once she is free, she will find something. Anything. But that was a line of thought for another day.

* * * * * * *

The sun is blaring, unforgiving; dunes of sand around her expansive and seemingly endless in every perceivable direction. Megara is struggling to walk in a scorching sea of golden barrenness. It's the time of day in which the light sits highest in the sky, and the sweat that gleams off of her forehead, dripping from her hairline, is real. Glancing upwards at it, Meg frowns. HELIOS HAS NO IDEA WHAT IS TO COME. Or, WELL, if he does ... he's sure not telling Zeus about it.

What a schmuck, she thinks, and then she wants to sneer, because it's such a Hades thing to think.

Her head and shoulders are covered in a simple gray cloak. It's poorly, and leaves her looking as such purposefully; torn at the seams on one shoulder, as if she had been attacked somewhere along the road. There's a Yiga symbol on the back of the hood, sun faded but strategic, and Meg is certain the Gerudo will recognize the symbol. This is the point.

She has one objective before her; she's supposed to find Urbosa. Any of the Gerudo would do, of course ━━ but Urbosa is the best. She will be the hardest to fool; the one in which all of the others will, consequently, look to. Hades has placed Meg here, knowing Urbosa would likely be training nearby, a blazing fury in an otherwise empty desert. If only Meg could find her, she thinks, as she struggles to walk up a dune ... she groans to herself. Everything looks empty...

And then?

In the distance, suddenly, Meg can spot a figure. COULD IT BE? The silhouette is tall; the hair large and unmistakably red. After a moment, there's a BOOM: and a CRACK ━━ and LIGHTNING. Meg's eyes widen at the majesty of the force she commands even from afar. Yes, there is no question now: this is Urbosa herself.

For a moment, Megara pauses.

Does she really want to proceed? Does she really want to be responsible for the destruction of a people, and possibly the world?

Come on, Meg, she coaches herself, closing her eyes, gathering the last of her strength, her passion, taking a few deep breaths. You can do this. One last job, and you're free.

Opening her eyes, deciding at last, she runs.

❝ HELP! Please! ❞

Megara screams to the Chieftain, her voice begging. It's desperate albeit softer and full of more femininity than usual. A helpless maiden in extreme peril; that's who she is. Were she able to feel anything at all, she might have impressed even herself with the level of conviction in its timbre. As if on cue, not planned, but certainly not unhelpful, Meg trips; losing her footing in the sand. She stumbles, falling to the ground, and stays there.

#vigilantdesert #* ━━ AU VERSE: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘇𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗮.#not me writing a legitimate novel i'm sorry i just had to establish the storyline #hahaha #you dont have to match but i was excited <3

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onetimemacaroni · 28 days

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Love, Me Normally is alright I suppose

Purple. I want you to look to your left, look to your right, your 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight. And I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities, those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils of the beautiful eyes of the beautiful boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight. And I want you to tell 'em how you really feel. I want you to tell 'em that you love the way they so seamlessly, like a dreamfully, so beautifully, oh so dutifully- Jam that square peg in the round hole in their heart! I want you to tell 'em that you love the way, that they don't stick out like sore middle fingers! That they crawl their way up the side of the bell curve, tick their flag in the peak, and slide their way back down! I want you to tell them that you love the way that they're not maladaptive, not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent, but rather that you love them,

Exactly the way that everybody else is!!!!!!

#asks

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night-vale-daily · 1 month

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In lipstick on the mirror

Are the lyrics to my obituary

In iambic pentameter, followed parameter

Crossing my eyes, dot my T's

I was delivered holding scissors

I live deliberately, I'm a quitter

And a winner anyway

Cause I never agreed to participate in this game

Won't follow my dreams

No, they've all got me waking up screaming

I can let them go from me

After all there is no "I" in team

And I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal

I suggest that we keep this informal

Cause a normal human being wouldn't need

To pretend to be normal to be normal

Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya

To be normal in a way I couldn't be

C'mon, c'mon, and love me normally

If I could live in third person

Well I don't think life would be much worse than it is

In the current tense, presently

This sentence ending with question marks or dot dot dot

Is it courageous or escapist

To leave the quarantine when you're contagious

It may just be a cold

And besides I don't wanna get old

I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party

When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave

And I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal

I suggest that we keep this informal

Cause a normal human being wouldn't need

To pretend to be normal to be normal

Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya

To be normal in a way I couldn't be

C'mon, c'mon, and love me normally

Now this is the part of the song where I like to talk to my audience

I like to tell 'em there's something I want from you hep cats tonight

I want you to look to your left, look to your right

Your 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight

And I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities

Those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils of the beautiful eyes of the beautiful

Boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight

And I want you to tell 'em how you really feel

I want you to tell 'em that you love the way they so seamlessly, like a dreamfully

So beautifully, oh so dutifully

Jam that square peg in the round hole in their heart

I want you to tell 'em that you love the way

That they don't stick out like sore middle fingers

That they crawl their way up the side of the bell curve

Stick their flag in the peak, and slide their way back down

I want you to tell them that you love the way that they're not maladaptive

Not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent, but rather that you love them

Exactly the way that everybody else is

I was nothing before so I couldn't have asked to be born

I'll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then

Is there nothing to fear? Cause shit's getting weird

So to God who made this man, you better have one hell of a plan

I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal

I suggest that we keep this informal

Cause a normal human being wouldn't need. No

To pretend to be normal to be normal

Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya

To be normal in a way I could never be

C'mon, c'mon, yeah, I said c'mon, yeah

C'mon, c'mon, and love me normally

- Nature Tapes

Hey, that's my favorite song! No particular reason why.

#dv radioposting #radio requests

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ad-venturism · 6 months

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How to slow down time. take deep breaths. write slow. type slow. one finger at a time. move your body. feel the sun at different hours of the day. mince fresh garlic every day. watch water boil. be a table, a cat, and a cobra. sleep dreamfully. have someone to remember with. eat a full breakfast. disable autoplay and autoscroll. walk the longest road in the city. wash a day-old stain. notice every vein of the hand you shake. count the rings of a tree. fall in love. step into love. turn off artificial lights for one night. count to 100 in a foreign language.

#2023 #10/22/2023 #writing #spilled ink #poetryriot #poetry #creative writing #poem #verse #poets on tumblr #twcpoetry #typewriter poem #typewriter #short poem

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rreskk · 1 year

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Before the storm

CHAPTER 7: Luring him in.

Summary: You experienced his five stages of grief... One of them being lust.

TW: Smut

‘Chapter 6′--> HERE ‘Hate to love, love to hate’--> HERE

As expected, you woke up before him. You’d understand as Trevor snorted God knows how much cocaine before asking to sleep in the same bed. Turns out, he’s a deep sleeper as well. He’s lights out, even when the curtains are open and the beaming sunshine is devouring your duvet completely. The sun eliminated his sleepy face, his eyes dreamfully closed and mouth tipped slightly open. He looked peaceful; something you wished he looked more often.

You sighed and refused to admire his appearance anymore.

You were slumped on the edge of your bed, staring down at your hands in self-abhor. Bidding your heart that you’ll get over him, the true feelings locked away is opposing; threating, and deceiving your smothered emotions. There was a mental battle between fight and flight over this one man… This… This one man!- Who’s turned up out of nowhere. This guy you met and found zero interest in. Now he’s the resort to all your internal pressures. If only the other guys knew how the night went for you. You’d wish Lester was more sensitive but you easily recognised his concerns, the same with Brad… Even Michael. Whatever happened between him and Trevor, you need to know. You need to know every single detail of this dirtbag who’s sleeping away his hangover in your bedsheets. The audacity he has to play around with you like a puppet. Even if he’s innocent with his words, you despise how attached you are to him.

“Mhmm, what am I going to do about you?” You muttered under your breath while observing the sunny gaze upon his slightly tanned skin.

That made you think. You’ve noticed the tilt to his skin, even though North Yankton is possibly one of the coldest states in America. If it was his natural skin colour… You wouldn’t have a scientific explanation for it. Despite his life-style, his skin was so healthy looking; brown, smooth, soft, and delicate. His face was beautifully cared for as well. Would he have a skin-care routine? Absolutely not. From your judgements, he doesn’t even wash his skin… Yet it was flawless. You rolled your eyes and called it luck. The bitterness in your thoughts filtering the moral compass you followed. Maybe you were too harsh on him… Why were you?

You sighed. It would be best to ponder these questions when he isn’t sleeping in your own bed.

The surface moved and you whipped your head round. Trevor was barely sitting up. He was rubbing both eyes while his back was stabilised by the wall. You disturbed the peace.

“Morning, Trevor.”

He took some time to adjust throughout the natural lighting of the room and grumbled, “Hey.”

Trevor was sour looking. He sat there for a few minutes cringing to himself. You’d expect it to be the hangover.

“Headache?”

He nodded.

“Want some painkillers?” You asked again.

Trevor sighed, “A few.”

You went to retreat them when he reached forward.

“Wait.”

You turned back and he was looking at you with clear eyes.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“It’s alright,” You smiled.

“No, I mean like… Urh, I hate myself.” He moped in his hands.

Unchallenged by his ‘morning after’ reaction, you stood there in solitude. Trevor’s hands travelling from his cheeks to hair, ripping out the locks as he squeezed his eyes shut; obviously harming himself on purpose. You quickly untangled the knots from his fingers and restricted him from further pain.

“Hey,” You softly spoke, “It’s alright. Come on, come here…” You offered your vacant arms and he bluntly fell into them. His nostrils inhaled your scent before he began bawling his eyes out. You held him close.

“I-I hate myself!” The broken man continued.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Having experience with breakdowns before, you were professional in your knowledge. You cradled his shaky figure and rubbed his back in slow circles, whispering affirmations in his ear.

“I try and be a nice person but I can’t help the temptations!” Trevor wailed. He sniffed sharply, “I try my best, I-I really do!”

“I know Trevor, I know-”

“But even Mikey or Bradley don’t care about me! I go outta my way for them… Sometimes I make a scene b-but I can’t help it. I wish I can stop it. I wish I-I can just fuckin’ stop!”

You heard heartbreak spill from his drooly mouth. Without being honest, you were distraught by his confession. You remained quiet as you tried to process his words. Trevor’s unhappiness determined your own. Suddenly, you couldn’t fight back your tears. As they trembled down your cheek; Trevor’s cries dampened your already damp shirt, gaining no use of it no more.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

You croaked out, “Trevor, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

He lifted his head up to face you. The way his eyes sorrowfully narrowed when seeing your unwellness. Trevor held out his hands and began wiping away your tears. He completely ignored his own.

“Trevor…”

“I am sorry,” He whispered.

“Trevor, it’s okay.” You painfully smile.

The man’s lips quivered. He folded himself back into your arms and hugged you. You faced a number of reasons to shame yourself at this moment. How moments ago you were judging him spitefully as he slept… Now you were cuddling this man like your life depended on it. If he would of known your thoughts, may God have Mercy on your soul… You’d be seen as evil, a dark witch, a soulless creature! Trevor would be betrayed and appalled; adding to the list as the days would pass from the second you met him.

“I’m such an ass… I hate myself, I hate myself, I HATE MYSELF!”

“Trevor,” You insisted, “Shh… It’s okay, I’m here.”

He nodded while shaking under your touch.

“Will you be here for me? All the time? Will you ever leave me?” The depth to his questions made you shudder. His attachment worsens whenever you’d bond, and you knew this… You couldn’t stop it though.

“As long as you want me to, I’ll be here.”

It felt like you were promising yourself to the Devil. Trevor’s chin rested against your chest, pleading you with the eyes of a broken soul. The uncertainty behind his dangerous mask lifted your hopes that maybe… Maybe Trevor is worthwhile. You couldn’t pinpoint the change of heart but the closer you got to his lips, the more you felt at home. When you kissed him, the tensity of his body flustered and disappeared. Suddenly you felt him adjust from under your arms. While you enclosed your mouths again, moaning throughout the kiss, Trevor held a steady hand behind your head and gently leaned you down. You sunk into the white sheets until you broke away. Now you could see.

Trevor was hovering over you, mouth red from your hungry touch. He was looking between your eyes, wonder fulfilling his mind. You didn’t have a rational thought behind it… You lost all character and yanked him down, planting soft pecks upon his damp cheek and jaw. He muffled a moan through the affections.

“If we do this,” He whispered, “Are you going to runaway after?”

The sincerity behind his inquiry hooked your attention. You lied there as the sunshine burnt the skin upon your arms and neck. You gave him a ready look, a smile of charm and mercy. He sniffled a grin back.

“Every time I try and run away from you, Trevor. I always come back.”

“I know.”

“Why worry?” You ask.

“What if you don’t come back?”

Frail as a child can be, Trevor wanted an answer and you provided something more promising. You trailed sly nibbles down his neck, crossing the Adams-apple that daunted you from the beginning. He trembled.

“[Y/n],” He breathed, “What if you don’t…”

“I know you now. I can see you, Trevor. The last thing I’d do is run.”

“Are you sure?”

You held his face, “I’m positive.”

It was so strange being honest with your feelings but you had to. The guy is in your bed. He slept in your bed. He’s kissed you. You’ve seen him cry. You’ve seen him sob. You’ve seen him smile. Like it helped, seeing him so open with himself made you more attracted to him. When you’ve first met Trevor, you saw him as a stuck-up nicotine addict hilly billy. Although he partially is, he’s so much more. He’s managed to change your perception of him.

Trevor’s moustache twitched as he smiled. He leaned his head down and kissed you once more. It began so delicate and sweet. When you both figured it wasn’t enough, it began getting sloppy and heated. Trevor began groping you. His hands squeezing your stomach, your thighs, your ass. He was selfish with his touches. You grown accustomed to it, and liked it.

“Trevor,” You inhaled.

He was abusing your collarbone with his lips and mumbled something under the lines of ‘What’. You arched your back as he went lower.

“Mhm, fuck-“

He approached the top of your breasts. He signalled for your consent, exchanging a blushed face. You nodded and sat up. Trevor helped you take off your shirt and sucked in his lips when you unclipped your bra. He gulped.

“You are so beautiful, so fuckin’… Perfect.”

One hand pushed against the mattress, the other holding your naked back. He scambled to your breasts and began praising them with his unholy activity. He sucked on your nipple, kissing your skin, licking between them. He had loved them in every way and you watched him intently. Soft moans escaped your lips throughout. It felt too good.

“Trevor, your shirt.”

He looked.

“Take it off.”

The demand was real and effective. He gave you a nod before ripping off the white T-shirt he wore. As it was threw across the floor, you observed his chest. He was hairy, perfectly hairy. You may see the ribs from his skinniness but he was tanned, goldenly tanned. The tone of his body was perfection. The hair that hiked from his belly button to his crotch, you licked your lips.

“Am I to your standard, ma’am?” He whispered.

Standard.

You coughed out a laugh before enchanting him with your kisses again. Trevor cooly grinned and returned his hands to your body. He felt all over until he hovered between your thighs. You noticed his hesitation.

“I’m ready.” You affirmed.

Trevor’s fingers hooked on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down your thigh as he unravelled the sight of your wetness. He whinged like a boy.

“Ohh, you are so beautiful. I-“ He stopped and bent down; his breathing hitched and eyes watering with strain. Trevor’s ghostly tongue slivered across your inner thigh until it reached to your sex. He kissed it and you gasped for air.

“Fuck…”

He chuckled, the impact of heat destroying you.

“Stop fuckin’ teasing, Trevor.” You groaned.

“Yes, ma’am.” Trevor whispered and crawled over to your face, “I won’t keep you waiting…”

You stared into his eyes before hearing his belt clinch and rattle. It’s finally happening. You peered down and you forgot how to breathe. Trevor’s underwear was dangling around his knees, his full erection facing you with uneasy temptation. He panted as the fresh air cradled his cock.

“You ready, sugar?” He smirked.

You nodded eagerly and opened your legs. He positioned himself, giving you one last kiss before thrusting into you. It happened. When he broke through, you both animalistically moaned. Being stripped naked, almost sweating, minutes after watching each other cry; you were being fucked by him. And what do you think about it…?

You love it.

“Mhm, yes!” You praised Trevor as he crashed his hips against yours, looking up to see your reaction like he’s trying to make you proud. The senseless tongue hung out of his moist mouth. He was preaching upon your body like a wild dog, nibbling, teasing, licking every inch of your skin.

You’d claw at his back when he grew in pace. The bed beneath you both shook and ruffled against the wall. Luckily you had no neighbours… As if that would of stopped him anyway. Kissing him has become a ridiculed crime. Resting your foreheads together- you revised Lester’s insensitive statements and felt anger rise. Reddening in the face due to the mistreatment Trevor received yesterday, you smothered your hands against his neck and wished time would pause so you could devour the feeling of this pleasure. He growled surreally when you attempted to choke him. He brought his hips forward again, this time playing rough. The thrusts were so eager and harsh that you whole body would slam against the mattress.

“FUCK!” You cry.

“I wanted to- FUCK, Baby… Oh my God,” He whimpered; losing his grip on domination, “I fuckin’ love you!”

He needs, he wants, he desires. His mental capacity cannot handle the sexual drive he’s experiencing. Trevor’s glassy eyes upturned towards your face of ecstasy. He choked.

“I-I’m gonna cum.”

Your whole body was glimpsing with sweat. Trevor trembled forward, pulling out just in time for his cock to cum all over your stomach. As the hot fluids painted your chest, his eyes were squeezed shut, screaming poetic terms.

“Fuucckkk! I can see the void!”

Trevor had a voice crack in between. The weakness of how he fails to comply and hold in his orgasm, you were impressed. You took a mental note; deciding to play around with his issue… In the future. However, presently, you were growing impatient.

You whinged, “Baby, I’m almost close,” Hoping he wouldn’t collapse.

Trevor was struggling to breathe but nodded at your obey. He crawled down to your clit and pushed in two of his lanky fingers. He teasingly changes the speed as he’d finger you, smirking when you’d cry out his name. Your arms dangled around his shoulders, finding something to squeeze whenever it got too heated. You were soon detached when Trevor was based between your legs, talking dirty to your pussy until the moment you’d cum.

“TREVOR-“ You wailed.

His fingers were coated with it. His droopy eyes caught yours. You analysed how he brought the fingers to his mouth, licking away your fluids, just how you’d expect him to lick a lolly pop.

“You taste so good,” He remarked; gradually smiling.

Recovering from the sacred journey of loving each other, you chuckled silently and sighed when your legs managed to relax after shaking through your climax. Trevor massaged your thighs when noticing the beaten sigh. Something about his caring nature intertwined with your crush on him. He was naked, length dangling between his thighs. You were lying there in front of him, his cum still running around on your stomach; yet he focusses on your health and wellbeing.

“Was it good enough for you?” Trevor smirked.

You were mute, nodding your head.

He winked, “Mhm, you look beautiful. Always have,” He reached forward and moved a single strand of hair away from your face, “You were so good. So fuckin’ hot.”

“Trevor,” You complained with a smile on your face.

“You can’t deny it!”

“Just come back to bed, please? I need to clean my chest thou-”

Trevor perked up at your suggestion. He interrupted almost immediately.

“No, we shall cuddle. I don’t care that you still have my cum on you. It’s sexy.”

Knowing there was no point in cleaning as your bed was already mangled by your sweat and tears combined, you gave up. Motioning to the space beside you, Trevor dived into it within a second. His erratic energy back to normal.

“I am loving this morning so far, sugar.” He said with pure admiration.

You smiled, “I’m glad we made it up from last night.”

Mentioning last night did hit a nerve as he’d cringe. You held his hand carefully to encourage how time has moved on.

“Yeah. Shit, the guys. I bet they are running my phone.” Trevor muttered.

“You have plans with them today?”

“Yeah, like… In an hour or so. What time is it?”

You checked the alarm clock beside you. It was 11am. Trevor could see from afar and grumbled.

“In a few hours.”

You settled back into the sheets, “You still have time to cuddle.”

“I want more time to cuddle.” Trevor pouted.

“Be grateful that you have time.”

He mimicked your lecture before laughing. You just rolled your eyes.

“Nahh, I’m kiddin’. You’re right. We have more than enough time to sit back and relax.” His voice trailing off.

Having no schedule for this day, you were comfortable enough lounging around. Trevor would be explaining his current understanding of the heist he’s planning with the guys. He was so passionate and excited about it, all this talk on ‘cash prize’ and ‘loaded stacks’ that you held in a giggle. This is the same guy who cried to you, fucked you, now talking about his estimation of the money he may earn. It made you laugh. He grew so irrational with it that it turned philosophical. While engaging you in discussions surrounding economy or society, you grew a perfect understanding of how his mind works. He is unhinged, but he has a depth to his actions… And it made sense. You sat there, naked, actually agreeing to his words. That’s crazy! He’s crazy! You’re crazy?

“-people exaggerate us like animals! The working class is in shambles due to the economy and American hierarchy! The patriarchal system these men follow-“ Trevor was interrupted when the clock striked 12pm. You jumped out of your skin.

“What the fuck?” He sadly exclaimed, “I have to leave now? Fuck that shit!”

“No, no. You go, I’ll be here.”

“But I’m already here.”

“Trevor, go.” You commanded.

Trevor raised his eyebrows before smirking, “Yes ma’am…” He stumbled out of your bed, collecting the pieces of clothes that were scattered across your bedroom. He peered over again, “Gimme a call later, sweet cheeks. I can’t wait long enough after this morning.”

Your dressing gown was loosely around your skin. You were stood outside the door, shivering at the impact of North Yankton’s weather. Trevor was hiking down your driveway and towards the taxi he called. You saw him turn back and give you a wink. ‘Weirdo’ you’d think, assessing his movements. The swagger walk and how he swiftly climbs onto the backseat. You could even tell from his physical language that well… He’s a manic. Trevor’s taxi drove away and down the street. You waited until he was out of sight… And now you were alone in your home. Alone with your thoughts.

#trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips #gta 5 #gta v #grand theft auto 5 #before the storm #hate to love love to hate

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catholicjinx · 2 years

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NOW THIS IS THE PART OF THE SONG WHERE I LIKE TO TALK TO MY AUDIENCE. I LIKE TO TELL EM THERES SOMETJING I WANT FROM YOU HEP CATS TONIGHT. I WANT YOU TO LOOK TO YOUR LEFT LOOK TO YOUR RIGHT YOUR 12 O CLOCK 3 O CLOCK 6 O CLOCK 9 O CLOCK ROCK AROUND THE CLOCK TONIGHT AND I WANT YOU TO FIND THOSE POINTS OF NO RETURN. THOSE SINGULARITIES, THOSE BURNING RINGS OF FIRE IN THE BEAUTIFUL PUPILS IN THE BEAUTIFUL EYES OF THE BOY GIRL NEITHER BOTH OR IN BETWEEN THAT YOU BROUGHT WITH YOU TONIGHT. AND I WANT YOU TO TELL EM HOW YOU REALLY FEEL. I WANT YOU TO TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THE WAY THEY SO SEAMLESSLY. LIKE A DREAMFULLY . SO BEAUTIFULLY OH SO DUTIFULLY JAM THAT SQUARE PEG IN THE ROUND HOLE IN THEIR HEART. I WANT YOU TO TELL EM THST YOU LOVE THE WAY THEY STICK OUT LIKE SORE MIDDLE FINGERS. THAT THEY CLIMB UP THE SIDE OF THE BELL CURVE, STICK THEIR FLAG IN THE PEAK AND SLIDE THEIR WAY BACK DOWN. I WANT YOU TO TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THE WAY THEYRE NOT MALADAPTIVE. NOT MALCONTENT. NOT MALIGNANT OR MALEFICENT BUT RATHER THAT YOU LOVE THEM EXACTLY THE WAY EVERYBODY ELSE IS.

#sorry. what the hell.#I think im gonna go crazy over will wood tonight 👍

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thatbendyfan · 1 year

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In lipstick on the mirror Are the lyrics to my obituary In iambic pentameter, followed parameter Crossing my eyes, dot my T's I was delivered holding scissors I live deliberately, I'm a quitter And a winner anyway Cause I never agreed to participate in this game Won't follow my dreams No, they've all got me waking up screaming I can let them go from me After all there is no "I" in team

And I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal I suggest that we keep this informal Cause a normal human being wouldn't need To pretend to be normal to be normal Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya To be normal in a way I couldn't be C'mon, c'mon, and love me normally

If I could live in third person Well I don't think life would be much worse than it is In the current tense, presently This sentence ending with question marks or dot dot dot Is it courageous or escapist To leave the quarantine when you're contagious It may just be a cold And besides I don't wanna get old I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave

Now this is the part of the song where I like to talk to my audience I like to tell 'em there's something I want from you hep cats tonight I want you to look to your left, look to your right Your 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight And I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities Those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils of the beautiful eyes of the beautiful Boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight And I want you to tell 'em how you really feel I want you to tell 'em that you love the way they so seamlessly, like a dreamfully So beautifully, oh so dutifully Jam that square peg in the round hole in their heart I want you to tell 'em that you love the way That they don't stick out like sore middle fingers That they crawl their way up the side of the bell curve Stick their flag in the peak, and slide their way back down I want you to tell them that you love the way that they're not maladaptive Not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent, but rather that you love them Exactly the way that everybody else is

I was nothing before so I couldn't have asked to be born I'll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then Is there nothing to fear? Cause shit's getting weird So to God who made this man, you better have one hell of a plan

I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal I suggest that we keep this informal Cause a normal human being wouldn't need. No To pretend to be normal to be normal Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya To be normal in a way I could never be C'mon, c'mon, yeah, I said c'mon, yeah C'mon, c'mon, yeah, I said c'mon, yeah C'mon, c'mon, and love me normally

i was about to go to sleep. thanks crisis averted

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miserymheiri · 2 years

Text

It was possible to die of heartbreak after all

Or so he mused with disdain

What did that say about humans?

Did it make them better or worse?

Which option was more pathetic?

That did not matter

Or so he believed

And he approached the woman

Her face and her soul

Both aged from wait and denial

Longing for the return of a lost love

‘He will not come’

He said carelessly

She did not listen

The spirit of her pressing like warm lips

To cold glass

In dutiful vigil by the window

Her body left forgotten

In the face of her pride

‘He will not come’

He tried again

Unsure whether to praise or betide her

‘And you cannot stay’

Then the woman turned

Her bones quivering with some forgotten life

‘Why not?’ she asked

He paused in his steps

He had never wondered before

Why the human soul could not stay

What was his job?

To collect and charioteer

And guide them away to a realm

With no love?

Wretched human

Who loved the idea of love

Wretched humans

They were all one and the same

Why was he the one to drag them away?

‘You cannot stay’ he repeated bitterly

‘I’ve come to take you away’

The woman’s eyes sparkled with hope

‘So you came for me?’

The man sneered

‘But I am not the one you want’

‘But you are someone’

The woman countered softly

‘And someone is better than no one’

‘There will be someone’

‘In the place you are going’

‘But there is someone already here’

‘No, I am not someone’

‘And you, you are no longer here’

Her skin drooped further into the ground

Puddling in place of tears she could no longer shed

‘Why can’t I stay?’ she cried

Miserable

Pathetic

‘Why would you want to stay?’

He asked despite himself

Foolish being

This was not what he was meant to do

The woman looked surprised

Like it was simple to understand

And simple to explain

‘For myself’ she said softly

‘Why?’ he asked with great confusion

‘What is there for you here?’

‘I wanted to dance,’ she spoke dreamfully

Wistful gaze to the floor

‘One last dance’

‘Before I go’

He could not decipher her

He had waited for hours for her to give up

Or for her body to at least

What had kept her then?

‘Then dance’ he spoke, edges from hysteria

‘Dance away, after your death’

The woman stood unfazed

She smiled like she knew something

That he did not

‘It is better to dance now that before’

She explained

‘Now there is someone to dance with’

The man stared

Baffled multiple times

In fewer minutes

‘I am no friend of yours’ he claimed

‘I owe you nothing’

‘But you owe me your soul’

‘You may have my soul’ the woman spoke plaintively

‘After you have danced with me’

‘What is this madness?’ the man asked

‘Why do you continue to insist so?’

The woman smiled beguilingly

And held out a nimble, ghostly hand

‘You have never known passion, have you?’

‘Only obligation’

The man bristled and stepped away

‘I do not require passion’ he spoke sharply

‘I am above such things’

‘No one requires passion’

The woman countered calmly

‘It is something you must want’

‘I am wanting’ she tried, pleaded

‘Let me have this, and then I’ll be finished’

‘Then I will go with you’

……..

Silence stretched for a long moment

But finally the man sighed

‘Foolish mortal woman’ he spoke

‘Take my hand’

‘Show me this passion you speak of’

Her smile was sweet, selfish, satisfied

Yet warm

‘Come with me’ she guided him

‘Come and take off your skin’

‘And dance with me’

I will teach with passion

I will show you humility

And you will know why you are what you are

You will know why you do what you do

You will know

That I am not helpless against you

But you are indeed helpless against me

-Memento Mori 10/13/22

#poetry #writing #written by mheiri #poets corner #writers and poets #prose #spilled poetry

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kendrixtermina · 7 months

Text

(the various barren machinescapes of my heart)

I love the technology for its sharp lines and its transparence

even when beauty shows itself as a mongrel mixture of the holy and obscene

I register reality like the aftermath of intoxication receding

a low tide receding, made of

of wan colors and fizzled outlines

I do not know if the colors are of bliss or fear

either of them can change into the other og so quickly,

any joy is the jump-off- point of thick despair

I don’t want so much as a gust of wind playing

on the taut strings of my nerves

None of these dreams shall perserve me from deforming and rotting,

so I long, in pained yearnings,

to invoke red skies and dark crawlings

all that terrible dance,

taking hold of my arms when my clumsy feet can’t follow.

The clocks call us all on a death march,

and our very means to resist must betray us.

It must betray us, too, not just to time,

but the leech-like touch of others

– careless or intentional, it matters not.

didn’t I once dreamfully ask

to meet the lights of the beyond?

Did my tears not glint like planets,

like candy marbles of sweet color?

Didn’t I once say, in hubris,

that a sky of stars is all I need to live?

I’m sure I was reaching out my arms,

as if I could have opened the sky with my hands.

Long gone is that love now,

into the whylessness and pathlessness one has found.

The mocking absurdity of being pains me every moment

such a chalice of pitcher-plant juices,

eating up the membranes of my face

better quickly stuff all those fruits down

into that aching dreafull fullnes of existence,

lest I have to deal soon with the aftermath of their rot.

I really do not care if its honey or poison,

even pristine sweetness calls the insects to a feast,

but even blood beckons flies forth.

Beautiful or ugly, every liquid in creation remains so unbearably sticky

I long for solitude so perfect there shan’t even be bacteria

to decompose my body,

left to the softer failing of its own chemical bonds

I yearn for un-being, un-doing,

but the blood-filled-ness of one’s body leaks through,

reflecting the ceiling in the crimson puddle.

Though the scenes and places seem familiar,

there’s not a thing about them that feels real.

I move from room to room, past various features,

but never seem to get to any place.

In the end, I am a demon in a flask,

cooked up in an alchemic laboratory.

Night alone would sing,

to me, in this ouroboric realm.

You kept me for years there in the darkness,

flaying me bit by little bit,

when you did have need of samples.

You have cut me down into a haunting spirit of cold wrath.

I’m a stunted thistle from a lightless courtyard.

In the end, I can’t touch anything beyond the glass.

Or it can’t touch me.

I comprehend it’s sketch but I know nothing of its taste.

In fact, I do not know for sure

that there is anything out there that isn’t glass.

Dreaming will not free me.

Explaining the origins of these perceptions will not convince me that they’re real.

The shapes of the world seem arbitrary enough so as to end at any moment,

but most likely it won’t,

and the only ending there will be is the collapsing on itself

of this my private little cyst of flesh.

And this I prefer.

I fear it yes, but not so much as every single alternative.

This is just a countably infinite fear, plain old aleph null.

Giving up on anything but existing in this filth,

even that dream of the love that I could never give you.

Even the exquisite tragedy brief, but doomed little light,

that there could be if I let you touch

I resign myself to be content with the long engravings of memory.

I forsake the last petals of that thorny, glass-covered flower,

that burns me from within like a stovetop I forgot to switch off.

I opt to remain a smear of a bloodied palmprint on a sterile white wall

bounded by a lock with no key and a door that has no stairs before it.

I will marinate in this spoilt flesh,

until I run out of creative ways to describe emptiness.

I could dwell on it for quite some time,

like a painter who only draws birds.

Todays one would be a shrike,

picking at the threefold, surgical flaps

of what had been removed from me.

I fear the hands that would dig through my ill-healing flesh,

looking to cut free a string of baroque pearls for their necklace.

I hope that there’s no pearls,

but if there were, even they would just be beautiful wounds.

Love cannot touch me,

without making me painfully aware

of the flesh that is being touched,

and on those fibers harps the source of all the agonies.

I very badly fear that I’m getting repetitve, really.

It might be easier to list what doesn’t scare me

I don’t know why I hesitate at the edge.

Maybe it was some futile hope that death would be less frightening

if there were somebody to cling to at the time.

Perhaps some idiotic part expects

that even my shattered deadness should receive love,

as if it could.

An angry spite makes me wish to smear my repulsive remains

all over someone’s beauty, and have them eat me, bathe in me

like they are a carrion-loving pig.

I am willing to love carrion, why can’t others do it too?

I might have loved you, but I’d have come apart, apart, apart!

The best end there could be for me is to never be seen again.

#feelings #baby tries to art #poetry

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