#open verse

[a-fantastic-time]

Mileena's Trophy! (Open RP) (Any verse)

Another Mortal Kombat tournament was upon Netherrealm. Mileena had usurped her father, and imprisoned her mother. Taking Netherrealm for herself in the process. She had waged war on other worlds, and had been taking their prized warriors as her trophies. Making them her wives and breeding stock. Another portal had opened up, and that meant another world to conquer. She couldn't wait to bring your muse into her harem.

[thepiningpoet]

f. o. l. d.

Within this cage of skin and marrow, we lie ensnared within ourselves. For what has the depths to cradle a soul as ours and not render us rudimentary in the face of our complexity?

Through this façade of sturdiness, we fall flat as paper, and with an ill-advised word, a careless action, we fold, and burn just as easily.

- k. a. h.

[trash-town-mayor]

I was once told that

“You learn from your mistakes”.

Though, I soon learned that

they only make me more determined

to make yet another mistake

in hopes of

proving myself

right.

~ Mads

[blandbutfunny]

Poetry is:

Late-Capitalism, Post-Modernism, The Current Day etc is defined by clear truths so emotionally potent that decadent language ceases to heighten the senses; in fact it hides the blunt force trauma that is the process of feeling. We dress it up anyway - be it to prove something to ourselves, angle the object on a different axis and thus recontextualize the form, but we ultimately stare at the static, overwhelming, busy, bustling void that we have been mechanized to navigate. Sentience has ceased to be a miracle.

[all-that-is-gold-is-now-gone]

LIKE FOR A STARTER FROM JACAERYS VELARYON

[youngblood2208]

INSOMNIA

Two in the morning Sleep is hard to come by I've lost track of the minutes the ceiling has captured my gaze

Something stirs

I throw my legs off the bed I walk into the bathroom and lean against the sink The red stain drops on the porcelain not without burning my throat

I scratch my insides a bit further I look in the mirror and I look back at myself Not today Today I don't have the time to think about what this means

I roll up a cigarette with the tobacco I got left all loose and almost without taste I light it up and walk to the window with a lighter that can't hide the lack of fluid

Smoke numbs the pain Puts it to sleep Like death passing by and saying Darling that's okay That's all gone For now

There's nothing left to inhale Cigarette on the floor Foot on top I go back to bed

Two in the morning Sleep is hard to come by

[zxmbieponies]

"But she’s so brave, though. Just like a tornado - She’s taking us by storm. You can’t stop the girl from going. You can’t stop the world from knowing. The truth will set you free."

Crossover, AU and OC encouraged!

She/Her. Somewhere between 22 & 32 years old depending on the day. J(Japan)ST. Fan of the side characters. Multi-ship, multi-muse. Crossover, AU and OC's encouraged!

Depending on what/who you're looking for - I'm open to giving it my best shot for you!

Rules || Muses || Starter Call ||

[stars-written]

Nil-Rae huffed softly to herself. This was ridiculous. She just needed a little help and there was someone right there who clearly had the know-how and experience to guide her. Why she couldn't just waltz up to the beautiful blonde girl and ask her a question was beyond her. It wasn't inappropriate or forward or even that much of a hassle really. Blue or green. That's it.

So why was she floundering over it in her head like this?

A derisive little voice in the back of her head, one that was her own voice but sounded an awful lot like his, was mocking her inner monologue with every word it spoke. Normally she would simply ignore that voice, the one that clearly didn't know what it was talking about, but the more she heard her own words repeated back at her like that, the more ridiculous she thought she sounded.

Swallowing thickly, and deciding once and for all to just go for it, Nil-Rae forced her legs to move as she commanded and approached the blonde woman standing just a little ways ahead of her in the little tailoring shop. She cleared her throat to announce her presence and held up her hands. In each one she held a different pair of delicately woven, intricately decorated flat-soled shoes. One was a brilliant shade of sky blue while the other was a deep forest green.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude but... well, I'm having a dilemma and I think you might be able to help me. You see, I'm supposed to be attending a wedding next cycle and I need to pick the right shoes to go with the dress I bought. It's a really pretty shade of coral pink and I've read that pink goes well enough with, well, green and blue. I--"

Nil-Rae laughed sheepishly and darted her blue eyes to the floor, feeling her cheeks rise in temperature. "I've never been to an event like this and I don't want to embarrass myself. You... you seem like someone who knows this sort of thing inside and out and I just hoped perhaps you'd help me decide?"

(@valorums liked for a starter!)

[fairymint]

"i should really change my employment to Douchebag With A Guitar."

[normanight]

I joined the open verse challenge to Devon Cole's W.I.T.CH (woman in total control of herself). I wanted to add a little bit of Disco Witch to it! Hope you enjoy!

[trash-town-mayor]

Worry

As you sit on the couch,

me on the floor,

you tell me to “come here”

And I move to you

even if I think that I made you mad.

Because I know that you’d never take it out on me.

And that you want to work it out.

So we sit there,

your arm wrapped around my shoulders.

And though it takes awhile,

I get the guts to finally ask…

“Did I make you upset when I did that?”

At first your silence is deafening—

reminding me of all the times

in which I’ve hurt others.

It’s painful to wait

for you to say,

“You just annoyed me a little.”

And before I can speak you add,

“But I still love you.

It doesn’t change our relationship.

Or how I view you.”

And suddenly all is right again.

~Mads

[blandbutfunny]

Ruminations 21/4/24

I think amongst an intense desire to be understood I keep trying to find communities that I give the benefit of the doubt that I will fit into and be a part of. Ultimately be it anxiety or autism or a general lack of personable articulation I find myself constantly feeling left out or uninformed on the matter of my character and how people view me. It's something that I can't control and honestly not something that should worry me either, yet I'm borderline obsessed with it.

I have tried to turn myself into an object of desire. Having felt the pangs of desiring machines and their insatiability I have sought revenge by placing myself at the core of other people's desiring machines. I don't want this without transactional benefit - I feel I offer in exchange a love and realisation of said desire with intensity that is borderline unachievable for the general population. Again though, I am leveraging my own dysfunctions and insatiable needs in an attempt to barter some temporary relief.

I write "open verse" poetry in an attempt to a. Get better at a craft I have genuine affection and appreciation for, and

B. Attempt to articulate details and intensities within myself that I think are needed for people to comprehend whatever I am in a socially normative manner.

There are police on the other platform. I assume someone has jumped into the tracks.

I keep getting older. I am coming to terms with distant friendships, and acknowledge that as time goes on, I do not have access to the emotional fulfillment that comes with reciprocated love and understanding. I do not believe that our sentience is retained when we die - whatever happens I will forget everyone I love and the work I have put into becoming the best version of myself I can be is of little consequence. As years go on and people far younger than me achieve my aspirations, I wonder if I am spending my time in vain.

I am at a loss in my life. I do not know what I want to do with myself. I don't know how to start putting myself on track for where I want to go, where I want to be. Ultimately, none of it will matter. That said, failing to do anything seems like such a waste, and my heart burns with an injustice that, for whatever irrationality life is, I could have helped someone like me not go through what I have.

I roll my eyes at my faux martyrdom. In turn, I scoff at how dismissive I am at making genuine attempts to define my values and ethics. Much like my social character, I have created meaning from scratch and whilst influenced, I abstained from indulging social normative in my brushstroke.

Prose plagues these very not empty platitudes. Some more talented than I would make this high art. Instead, it remains regular art, if by art we mean a reflection of human experience.

If capital consumes all, it's critiques becoming reinforcement, and every deviation from normativity reinforces what is considered normal, and if life is so extreme that satirical exaggeration seems banal, why can art not be a journal entry, a written passage, a stream of conscious? Why must we call it art? Why must it only hold value if it is art?

This is a journal entry for the unconscious mind. My daydreaming is leaking into the starry night. These intensities grasp physicality with a hand of whisps, but even at the precipice of the real world, they remain theoretical.

There is no clever word play. There is only words, and a multiplicity of combinations of such. Artistic integrity is assigned by convention, not merit.

Some day these words will die. The intensity will live on. I should not be so arrogant as to assume it dies with me.

I hope someone finds a better use for them.

[a-perplexed-entity]

Cigarettes and Honeydew

Picnics aplenty,

Our glee tainted the grass.

We embraced the aura

Every spring,

With a juice box within our clasp.

We used to clink the cardboard,

Mimicking the adults we walked past.

We saluted the day,

Sharing a Honeydew,

Our tradition we cherished to last.

Each spring for a decade,

Thats how it always set out to be.

Until the ages started to run free.

Each spring we returned,

For it was fate.

The scent of honeydew,

lingers between our space.

We returned again,

But our boxes turned to glass.

And instead of a pure, delicate rumble,

Followed the crisp ring of our cherry filled, dome shaped flasks.

We shared our Honeydew as we always had,

But with silverware to divided it.

Constricted by the etiquette of time.

As if the knife had not only sliced through the fruit,

but the scent between us.

Each spring,

Concluded by the Honeydew.

But this time,

You pulled out a cardboard box from your side.

However, it wasn’t our cherished juice-box.

It was Cigarettes that soured our Melon.

Each spring,

This was our innocent custom.

This spring,

Adulthood settled in,

So did the redolence,

Of Cigarettes and Honeydew.

What follows is what once was,

Every spring,

Where I will morn our last.

Where we continue to clink our cardboard boxes,

Mimicking the same adults that we have now become.

Nevertheless I request,

To always remember the Honeydew,

Even if tainted with Cigarettes too,

And I will learn to love our redolence,

Of Cigarettes and Honeydew.

[faequinn]

introduction to my blog

i imagine it would be easiest for me if i used this platform to express my thoughts- i journal loads and i’d like to showcase that in my “entries”, that’s what i’m calling my posts from now on. these entries will be varied in topic and theme, all the more to keep writing; we all must keep writing, if only just to get it out there. it’s true that when we keep things bottled up, it comes out in very devious ways. in hopes of preventing this, i will post the things i’ve bottled up, to be read by the masses.

i’m thankful to be able to do this for myself, i once heard of tumblr as a kid, but never knew what to do on it.. so i shitposted a lot; but now that i’m more aware of things, i suppose it should be given a shot at— especially since i feel that i know what i’m gonna do w my page/blog/profile. i’m very excited because i get to share my thoughts with the world— even if nobody sees them or cares about them, im still satisfied because they’re public! :) xx

xoxo, Fae 💕