#sometimes the curtains are just blue. sometimes writing a lot of words doesn't actually make u smart

[liesmyth]

Lol that person made a big show about blocking you and they’re now on their 2nd day of throwing a massive hissy fit about how “people are being so mean to me” and “if this is how people are going to take my gentle, good faith posts then maybe I’m just gonna leave this website and stop talking about TLT.” They’re seriously threatening to leave tumblr. Man I don’t know how to tell you that calling random people racist for no reason does not tend to go over well.

Listen. I have never interacted with that person in my life, I haven't checked their blog since reblogging that post. I blogged a bit, went running, had cool conversations in my DMs and went to bed ✨

From my point of view, someone I don’t know hijacked my post and then immediately blocked me for choosing not to engage with their wordsalad wall of text. I think jumping on a joke post labelled as such, made a week ago by someone you never talked to, to #flex your intellectual prowess is a dick move. Their reblog wasn't meant to be educational, it was meant to scold me and to show off. I'll also say that the addition was incredibly dense, and doesn't actually come across as particularly smart or well written if you're familiar with literature on the topic. There’s a reason why academic writing emphasizes clarity, and I’ll leave it at that.

Also I find it hilarious that beating people over the head with the moral stick when they’re just having fun in fandom is like. The antithesis of everything Tazmuir has ever said. Creator is dead and all that, but if you’re reaching deep in the author’s backlog to validate your takes, listen to what they actually are saying. And what Tamsyn is saying is, usually, do fandom however you want & don’t be a dick.

Anyway, this is the last anon I'll publish on that subject because I’m behind with  a TLT exchange fic treat and also genuinely do not care. Some people in this fandom have an intellectual superiority complex, I hope they have fun with it. I’m not responsible for whatever they’re getting in their inboxes. Happy weekend.

[cescalr]

1: give short descriptions of all your current WIPs; 7: what books have shaped the way you think about writing the most? why?

1; I actually can't do that, I've got 40 of the damn things :)))) this is fine. Um, okay. Short fire round of the ones I can currently recall;

marrige proposal ron/harry au, multiple time travel fics for teen wolf, one for the MCU and one for Merlin BBC. fleur/malia crossover fanfic. polyam based au fanfic for buffy circa s3. shield agent Stiles au. steo au in s5. claysmond soulmate fic. alternate sorting fic series year 2. spiderman ron total conversion AU. PlayerCharacter!Ron AU (Gamer!Fic like you used to see on FFN a lot.) Reading the books crossover fic, HP/Riordanverse/Supernatural. SPN/Buffy crossover fic, John = Xander's bio dad. Percy Rebels and Shit au co-written with viv. uhhhh others too- anyway-

7; hmm. i mean, likely the ones I read as a kid. you know, Harry Potter, Beast Quest, Chronicles of Narnia, His Dark Materials, The Graveyard Book, The Gift, Maximum Ride, Code Breakers, Books of Beginning, Riordan's works in the mythological revamping strain. hell, even My Sister the Vampire, Jinxed, The Mediator, and all that sort of thing, probably. Books I had to read for school, like The Last Samurai, and that one i keep forgetting the name of (Cosmic?) where the kid went to space and at the end of the book he was a little shorter than he'd been before he went up and it was like, something about his character arc being represented... i don't remember. I liked that one. But, I mean, I've read a lot of books. They all sort of blend together. Secret Garden was something I remember liking. But I don't know, I think... shaping the way I think of writing, I mean, that would require me to think of it in any particular way? I'm not a very - good writer in that my whole thing about is just... do it. Like, I just sit there and i type and words are on a page. I don't really think about it. It's kind of bad practise. I'm not very reflective as a rule, at least about fiction. Sure, there's probably more to the curtains being blue, but I don't always want to read into it, you know? Like, yeah, okay, maybe they represent, I don't know, a desire for freedom or something, but also maybe I just want to think the person who decorated the room thought they were pretty. And that thinking they were pretty isn't any deeper, doesn't have any philosophical roots - just a colour preference. I like symbolism and parallels and themes and all that. But it can get kind of exhausting sometimes when I just want to read a story. The way I look at it is this; anyone can take anything from any book, regardless of intention. Half the time, the author doesn't have to do anything in particular, and people will still ascribe it specific meaning. No two interpretations are exactly the same unless you're just regurgitating what someone else has said. There's nuance, always, in the individual approach. At the same time, there are correct and incorrect ways of interpreting a book. A book that clearly states 'murder is bad' and then shows that murder is bad by having murder happen and then consequences occur should not in any way somehow make someone come away with the interpretation that they should go around committing murder all day because it's great, actually. Sometimes, there is an objective wrong or right answer. I don't believe in subjective reality; I drop an apple, it falls to the ground, and for everyone else the same happens. So, in turn, there must also be objective truths. In that sense, writing has objectively right and objectively wrong methods of application. But I don't think about it very much. I said I'm not very philosophical, and it's true - once we get to this point, my brain sort of checks out of the conversation. So, back to less existential things; part of writing for me is the feeling. The writing of a book doesn't work for me if it doesn't Flow Right. I think I might've learned some bad habits from what I've read, because people in my degree keep telling me I have run on sentences. And that's true, I'll admit. I tend not to like shorter ones; they don't feel right. Too short. Stilted. Weird. I only like to apply them in certain circumstances; when I want people to feel that same weird. short. stiltedness. That i feel when I read them. Full stops make me pause. It's a stop. A comma, on the other hand, feels freer, like you're just taking a moment to digest and then carry on. But what do I know? I'm a student. Half the time, I don't even read the course books.

I'm not a very good student.

But yeah. I guess I took away what I liked and what I disliked. I like certain kinds of formatting. I like certain kinds of structure. I like certain kinds of perspective. I like certain kinds of plots, characters, dynamics. And I use those things while avoiding what I found I couldn't get behind. In a way, I guess, it all made me think of writing in a very much 'to each his own' kind of way. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and all that. I can say a book is objectively bad, and still perfectly enjoyable for what it is. Just because you like something doesn't mean it's of good quality. It just means you like it.

Speaking of which, I was one of the people who read twilight. I don't like it anymore, obviously. But there's still a large print copy of breaking dawn on my bookshelf. Everything you read is a part of your literary history. It all has a certain influence. You can thank Doctor Who for my fondness for time travel, you can thank My Sister the Vampire and Twilight (and Young Dracula and The Vampire Diaries and My Babysitter the Vampire, but those are shows) for my fondness for the vampire archetype. And you can thank Books of Beginning and Harry Potter and Chronicles of Narnia and His Dark Materials and Jinxed and The Mediator for my fondness for fantasy. And you can thank Beast Quest for my love of friendship dynamics and my annoyance at shipping every m/f pair of friends that ever cross the page everyone seems to do even when they're not like that. And they're kids. You can also thank most of these being about kids read by me, as a kid/pre-teen/teen growing up to want more stories about adults doing the world saving because, damn do these kids suck at making good decisions. Maybe we shouldn't be putting the fate of the world on the shoulders of people without fully developed brains. Probably actually the worst idea we've had so far. Keys to the Kingdom and Chronicles of Narnia, in a roundabout way, is probably why I've got a certain worldbuilding/series project on the backburner. Abrahamic stuff, man. It's everywhere.

I do occasionally do some original fiction, these days, as a result of my degree and wanting to test the waters. I haven't posted anything there yet, but once the blog's done, @cesca-creates will be where my worldbuilding and stuff I don't want to publish is stored.

Another thing, I guess, is that I think stories should be shared. Always, forever, and to everyone. Archival is very important. Nothing should ever be lost to something as simple as time, especially nowadays with all the technology we've got knocking around.

(Speaking of which, once my degree is over, I'll be posting all the stuff I've written for it online... somewhere. We'll see where. One or two pieces may be omitted because i might want to make actual books out of them. But we'll see.)

[genshingarbage]

hoii, is it okay if I request something with Diluc and Kaeya ? like, gn!reader feels very alone and unloved, because they can't make/keep friends and their family doesn't pay much attention to them ?

and if it's not too much, can the men be like big brother or father figures to the reader ?

it's okie if you don't want to write it!

have a good day/night ♡

This is too cute. Bless. Both I and Mod Kaeya worked together on this one, take a guess who wrote for who lmao hope this is okay sweetie! - Mod Diluc

I'll Always Care.

|| One - Shot ||

Kaeya / Diluc

Diluc

The sun was beating down like normal, the heat was unbearable and it was making you itch and sweat like nobodies business. You felt stuffy and so uncomfortable, but maybe you could give the sun a break from your insults; because deep down it wasn't the sun making you feel like utter nothingness right now. It was the fact you yet again were reminded of the harsh fact that no one cares for you, not even your own mother can pretend to wear a smile around you.

First your mother sighed and brushed you off this morning like a pestering bug, and to rub insult to injury your small group of friends (if you could even call them that.) Had conveniently forgotten to secure a place for you to go with them all on their expedition today. So here you were alone, curled up with your knees pressed against your chest and your eyes closed as to try prevent the threat of tears: despite you trying to convince yourself it's just to block the sunlight, even though you're under a tree that's already blocking the sun indefinitely.

You felt the pain sinking further inside you now and it just stung worse and worse. Why? Why do you always get forgotten about... why do they never care how you're feeling? No one seems to understand you ever. Was this world even meant for someone like you? You debated it sometimes, but all it ever did was work you up more into a crying mess because even if you'd conclude you're better off dead- you'd never have the guts to kill yourself; and you'd be way too terrified to let someone or something else do it for you.

Your head sunk further into your arms that coiled round your frail frame as you began to sniffle and sob softly. Your ears were ringing and your head was hurting so much from how much you'd been on and off crying the past two hours by yourself, nothing but the breeze and butterflies to keep you company in your own misery. Life was cruel, and you were starting to resent it in a whole. But all you could so was curl up and cry like you always do, why can you never fix yourself? Stupid.

You practically leaped out your skin however, shooting your head up fast, almost giving yourself whiplash from the force you done it at. The squeeze on your shoulder was most unexpected and most definitely an understatement to how shaken up you were. You felt the scream aching in your throat about to fly out your lips when you saw who it was, Diluc. His crimson eyes staring down at you, the matching hair tied neatly into a ponytail behind him. His claymore resting on his shoulder effortlessly.

"Why are you crying Y/N?" He spoke sternly, but under that tone you could hear the concern in his voice; as poorly as he was at showing his emotions on a day to day basis. You sniffed hard, an involuntarily rub of your eyes and nose following behind as you blinked away the tears quickly. "I- I'm not. Just resting is all." You wanted to cringe at your poor excuse there yourself, your voice was wavering in tone and cracking so badly, why did you even bother to lie?

He let out a deep sigh before slipping his claymore off his shoulder and swinging it in a circle before letting it peirce into the dirt, securing its position he let it go and stepped next to you, bending down and taking a seat beside you now. Inviting himself into your private affairs had become common ground for you now, then it hit you. He is always around when you feel at your lowest. You looked at him with a bewildered expression, eyebrow raised. The look of utter confusion evident on your face.

Finally he turned his head to you and then looked forward again, one of his knees lifting up for him to rest his arm on, the other sliding round the back of your neck and gently pulling you into his chest. You were confused at first, but then it hit you, he was hugging you and comforting you, in his best efforts at least. You laid there against him, cuddled up to him, your head pounding, your throat sore from crying, your eyes stinging. Face flushed red from your inner rage. You really looked like a mess right now.

"Rest. You need it. When someone's cried at lot it helps to get rest after." He spoke matter of fact like to you. You lifted your head ever so slightly about to attempt another pitiful protest, but his hand came up to your head and softly stroked through your hair. "Rest." He added. That silenced you and simply closed your eyes, feeling not so alone anymore and at actually at ease. He always helps you feel better, no matter how small of an action it was.

He always makes you feel loved and cared for, if you could describe Diluc in one word, it would be big brother. He really was like a big brother to you, always there to cheer you up and make you feel better, always there to remind you that you're not as alone as you always think you are. He's always kept you safe and always put you first before himself even sometimes. A smile crept onto your face ever so slightly when all of this was resurfaced in your mind.

You truly were grateful to have a friend like Diluc, even if you have no one else that's by your side, he is, and he always will be. "Thank you." You muttered the words ever so softly and breath like, as you'd mutter them out in your sleep, while your head rested against his chest. His eyes slowly trailed to the side, looking down at your peaceful sleeping state. His hand still stroking through your hair as it kept you huddled up to him. Not that you'd ever see it or know of it, a small smile made its way onto his lips too.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N".

Kaeya

The lanky man found you in his guest bedroom, knees tucked under you chin with a cloak of thick duvets framing your clearly exhausted face. He sighed softly before beginning to  pat over to you, chocolate milk in hand and heart on his sleeve.

Once you’d noticed him making his way over you shifted under the blankets to let him crawl into the little cave you’d constructed yourself. He placed the glass onto the night stand, interrupting the somber silence of the room with a gentle clink of glass against hardwood, then turned to you in order to pull you into his broad chest. He gently rubbed your back as his icy eyes observed the room with it’s askew drawers and new adornments of thrown pillows and tossed weapons or tools. The gentle moonlight pouring in from the still open curtain, tarnishing the peachy walls a soft periwinkle blue only telling him of the sadness you were feeling.

“You can stay here as long as you need.”

“I know Sir Kaeya.”

Your sniffles broke his heart a little, the way you buried your head into his nightshirt even more so. You were some sort of enigma to him. Like a puzzle he couldn’t solve yet was made of pieces of a mirror he had shattered.

You reminded him so much of how he was after Diluc had…well…

The blue haired man pulled you closer to him to bury his nose in your hair, beginning to frown, “Will you tell me what happened?”

“It is not really what has happened and more what keeps happening honestly.” Your voice was muffled slightly but he could still hear it clearly through your tight words forcing their way out of your throat. You didn’t really have the heart to tell him that since you became an adventurer your parents had all but kicked you out because they didn’t want to deal with the likely chance you wouldn’t be making any sort of money with your dream job. Your friends had began to leave one by one with teasing remarks about joining your adventure team or horrific monsters, leaving to study in far off corners of the world.

You were completely and utterly alone, with only Kaeya at your side. It didn’t take the feeling of his arms tightening around you to tell you he could already sense what you were thinking about.

“They weren’t your family or friends if they simply tossed you aside y’know? You should not spare them another thought.” He muttered this softly into your hair, hoping you could somehow find comfort in his backwards way of thinking. As much as he wanted to toughen you up…he didn’t want you to become him.

He’s well aware of your plights, has been since you were a kid and he was a fresh young face in the knights even if he doesn’t necessarily know what happened today to cause you to spiral into such a state. Maybe that’s why he took you in. He’d ponder over it as he tucked you in, brushing your hair out of your face afore lightly stepping out of the room to leave you to sleep finally.

[dreamingmanip]

“MADNESS LOVE” PART 2

*GIF NOT MINE*

You can find part 1 here.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 2,026

A/N: Hi guys! Like I said before, this is part 2 of 3 for this imagine. I loved this fic so much I could’t stop writing. I hope you liked it, like always if you like this, please like it and reblog it. This would be pin on my page so you can find it without problems.

The tears kept rolling down your face all the way home, you didn't bother to wipe them away when you met your neighbor in the lobby, asking you if you were okay. You weren't, you were holding yourself to not break down in the middle of the hallway, making a scene. 

Your keys jingled while you opened the front door, your hands trembling; you shut the door behind you. There was some light coming from outside the window but mostly it was dark,and that's how you felt, as if somebody took the light inside you leaving you blind. You leaned you back on the door, your body sliding down to the cold floor, sitting there looking at nothing. A cell phone started ringing in the distance but you didn't want to move. Your eyes fluttered trying to focus in the dark, searching in your jacket for it, the screen on the phone  glowed  and illuminated your face, Jay's name showed up, and the killing pain came back to your chest just looking at his name, so you decided to turn it off. 

God knows how long you were there until you decided to stand up and go to your room to take a shower, put on some pajamas and grabbed the bottle of wine that was in the back of your fridge taking it to your room. Jay's words echoing in your head, over and over again.

Did he commit to his job, to his Unit, that he was fine letting you go? His words were etched in your mind. Of course you understood the full situation, he was right; you were the new still, not a detective, but that wasn't what was hurting you, it was realizing how he believed you both could never say anything because your jobs were more important. 

Somehow you fell asleep before finishing the bottle of wine. The clock on your nightstand began to chime, it seemed that you had barely fallen asleep. Your room was still dark thanks to the curtains but some rays of sun could creep in. You stretched out your hand to turn off the alarm, and at the same time, your cell phone began to ring, you probably turned it on again in the middle of the night, you were a cop and sometimes you did stuff automatically; you raised it a little to be able to answer.

"Hello?"

“Hey Y/N, please don’t tell me you were still in bed.”

Your voice was a little croaky when you spoke.

“Uhm, no I wasn’t. My throat feels weird this morning, so… yeah.”

Kim’s voice was joyful even on the phone, you turned to see the clock, in a bright green color it said “8:15 AM”. You sat up immediately, moving the soft sheets wrapped on your body away while Kim was still talking.

“...So I called Kevin and we decided to bring you some donuts and your favorite coffee before the event. We’re 10 minutes away.”

“Fuck”.

You murmured getting in the bathroom. Kim looked at Kevin a little concerned.

“Sorry Kim, I spilled some water on the table but, uhm, yeah. See you in 10”.

Ending the call, you got in the shower, didn’t even wait for the warm water so you screamed a little feeling the coldness on your skin. The fastest shower you ever took in your life, leaving you with only five minutes to get dressed up and do your hair. 

You were in the final touches of your makeup when a few small knocks on the front door warned you of the arrival of Burgess and Atwater. Taking one last look at the mirror to put a smile on your face before one of them would notice something, you felt anxious and devastated and trying to hide it from officers and detectives required a lot of self control.

Both of your friends smiled when you opened the door, Kim was holding a little box with cartoon drawings of donuts on the top while Kevin was offering you a cup of your favorite coffee. All of you wearing uniforms.

“Thanks guys, I barely ate something this morning”.

You took the coffee from Kevin’s hand, taking a little sip before walking out of your apartment, closing the door behind you. The three of you were talking about random stuff all the way to the car and to the downtown, well, Kim was the one talking with Kevin, you were mentally preparing yourself to see Jay, it wasn’t working at all.

“So Y/N, Jay called me last night, which was a little weird if I have to admit, he asked me about you”.

Kim was looking at you through the view rear mirror, you blinked a couple of times without saying anything. Why did Jay call Kim to ask her for you? You had no idea and that's exactly what you said.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was at home last night. He’s weird sometimes you know that.”

“I know, right? He asked me if you were with me last night but we were at Molly’s. Adam, Hailey, Kevin and I, we miss you by the way.”

Kevin looked at you, knowing something went wrong between you and Jay.

“We invited Halstead to celebrate but he said he was busy filling some forms for Trudy after shift.”.

“Well, I don’t know him so well. I think he prefers to be alone. Look, the press is here too”.

You passed some news cars, reporters were setting their cameras to get a better view. Jay hated this, he wasn’t comfortable seeing his face on the paper just for doing his job and also Voight taught them that when his unit was formed, and everyone did almost the same.

You got out of the car after Kevin parked near the place. Hailey was the first who noticed you, she raised her hand and started to wave it. You smiled, Kim was doing the same and started walking towards her, Kevin patted your shoulder making you go slowly.

“What happened last night? Jay called me too, he said he was worried about you”.

“Well, he doesn't have to do that anymore. We’re done”. 

“Wait, what?”

Kevin stopped for a moment, that news caught him by surprise.

“Y/N, are you sure of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll support any decision you make, all the way, but I know your feelings. Working together could get harder.”

You nodded your head, you knew it. It was going to get hard in every possible way, seeing him every morning not able to steal a kiss from each other at the coffee room or staying up watching a movie with your head on his chest; suddenly a bunch of memories came back to your mind, you shook your head slowly, you gave him a side smile.

“Kev, I got this. I’m gonna be fine. C’mon”.

You bumped his arm with yours while you reached out to Hailey and Kim, for a moment Hailey looked at you and nodded, Jay talked to her too. You nodded back to her.

A few moments later, Voight and Trudy joined you. In the place there were a small, but considerable, number of people but no matter how much you searched with your eyes, you could not find Jay. The coordinators asked you to take your seats, for obvious reasons the Intelligence Unit was in the front row, it wasn't until that moment that you could see Jay in his uniform, you had always liked the way he looked in it. However, he didn't seem very happy, he seemed calm but you noticed the pressure on his jaw, his straight shoulders and his gaze in front of him, but he wasn't looking at you.

He was sitting next to some superiors in the platform in front of you. The Superintendent stepped up to the microphone to start his speech, some photographers started to point their cameras to the people and then to the "big hero". 

The ceremony wasn't too long, you all met in the back while reporters were asking now questions to some people. Voight was smiling, which was rare, while Jay was walking towards the group. 

Adam was the first to talk, and like always, started to make some jokes. 

"There he is, the super cop Jay Halstead. The man of the year!"

He padded Jay's shoulder, he had a shy smile on his lips. Uncomfortable by all the attention he was receiving. 

"Thanks Ruzek, I think the cartel in Mexico didn't hear you". 

Everybody laughed, including you. Jay looked at you for a moment, actually felt more like 2 seconds. 

"Alright, let's go back to the district and back to work. We can celebrate later at Molly's". 

Voight spoke and all dismissed to the cars, you went with Kevin again, this time Kim decided to ride with Ruzek, the awkward sensation was still there so she didn't want it to push it further and make you uncomfortable. Once inside the car, you kept quiet all the way, Kevin knew you were lying but he also knew how you dealt with a broken heart. 

You went to the locker room and just arrived at the district, it was too damn warm to keep it all day, also it was used just for events like this. When you got to the door you spotted Hailey, she was putting her badge on her belt. You kept your head down, trying to avoid her, you greet her with a quiet voice. 

"Uhm Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" 

"Yeah, sure."

Hailey closed the door and crossed her arms on her chest, her  cautious blue eyes looking back at you. 

"Look, when Jay told me he was dating you, I told him it was stupid. Not worth it if your careers could be over just for a romance that could last just a few months". 

You knew Hailey, she was a bad ass woman and probably didn't say it to her so often but you admire her. She was serious, she didn't like to play games when it comes to her friends. 

"I'm sorry for telling you this, but that was before seeing how good you are together as partners and as a couple. I was scared for both of you because I love you and I care about you. I'm not on Jay's side or your side, left me out that but Y/N, it's not easy to Jay open his heart like he did with you. He doesn't want to lose you and I guess the only way he can control that feeling it's not letting anybody know about it. Forgive me if I was a little obtrusive". 

You didn't notice there were a few tears on your cheek, cleared your throat to be available to speak but you failed at finding the right words, it took you a few seconds to speak. 

"It's okay Hailey, but what about me? What about my feelings? I know Jay is right, we could lose our jobs but, why make me feel like his dirty secret?"

Hailey took a few steps closer, her blue eyes now looking sad.

"Of course your feelings are valid. Don't get me wrong, I have been in that position before and it's not easy. All I'm saying is, you shouldn't leave things unspoken, this stuff gets heavy later."

She hugged you tight, rubbing your back. You held her too, she knew what she was talking about, you never asked before 'cause she was very private but you believed her at anything she said. 

After changing your clothes, you came back to the bullpen, nobody was talking, you sat at your chair and looked around; it seemed like everybody was tense for no reason. Voight was in his office and the unit was on some paperwork. You felt someone looking at you, directly. There was no need to look up, you knew Jay was looking at you from time to time. You haven’t talked to each other yet, you needed to, but that wasn’t the right place.

Tagged some beautiful people ✨:

@itsdesiree86 @mrspeacem1nusone  @anotherfan07 @thestarrynightslover

[ghostsofmemories]

hey, what is your process on writing poetry? you write the most amazing poems and i want some tips. thanks in advance.

oh wow! this is really hard to answer because I don't really have a process for writing poems, but I'll do my best to break down how it typically goes for me.

(most of the examples I'm going to use in this are pretty old because I've re-read those poems and have been able to analyze where they came from and all that, but my new poems still usually fall into these categories!

concept poems are the rarest for me but they're usually some of my best work, in my opinion. my poem self baptism (this is an older version, but it's still pretty similar to this) is one my favorite poems I've ever written and didn't even start as an idea, it started as a question: can you baptize yourself?

there are narrower, more specific concepts I've used for poems, too: a to-do list, listing things I won't write, or writing from the perspective of someone who maybe didn't treat me the greatest. usually the way I go about carrying these out is by asking myself what I can do with it—how can I portray this thing to its fullest potential, or how I want the reader to feel about whatever I'm writing by the end of the poem. usually I don't have to sit down and ask that and it's a lot more organic, but sometimes I do still have to actively pay attention and make those decisions actively. either way, they're usually the hardest to write, but are really satisfying when they click and come together.

poems from lines are probably my most common ones, but also the ones I finish the least. that's where I essentially have an idea that's just a couple words or a phrase that really strike me as interesting and that I want to base a whole poem around. a lot of the time, I end up sticking these lines into a concept or image/emotion poem, but the line is the idea source here.

in my poem in which you did not apologize, I ended up writing it from the middle outward. the only line I knew when I started was "even then, i could forgive you if it was me." in your mother never loved you / your mother never left you, the it was actually the first line of the poem: "fuck it, the curtains are blue," which is actually pretty unusual! almost all my poems that start from a line start in the middle and i have to build around them.

the downside of these poems is that sometimes you get really attached to that specific line and the rest of the poem doesn't feel like it measures up, especially if you keep a line in your head/written down for a really long time before you use it. it's kind of like having writing prompts that you came up with in your head all the time.

image/emotion poems are pretty common for me, but they can also be really frustrating. these are usually the poems I write to express something or get something out of my head, and I feel like this is what most people assume all poetry starts as. I say image/emotion because these go hand in hand: if I come up with an image, I have to give it an emotion, and if I come up with an emotion, then I have to give it an image. and this can be really difficult, especially when you're just trying to express something.

in this poem, I was basically writing about how much I struggled with this. I had a lot of emotions around one particular collection of events, but I kept coming up with the same images over and over, but still had more feelings, hence the poem being never-ending. this poem was and still is a struggle to find the right image for, and it's one of those ones that makes me wonder if it'll ever be finished. that's the main struggle with writing about any personal emotions or experiences: as a person, you're always growing and changing and have more to say about things that have happened to you, but finding new ways to present it can be really difficult, so they tend to always feel like they're off slightly or missing something.

so that's usually how I get started with poems! I don't really have much else for you without knowing what specifically you're looking for, but I'd be happy to answer any other questions about stuff like this! I really enjoy answering questions, especially about poetry, so thank you, and I hope this was helpful in some way! I also have this post where I talk about my poetry editing process if that's something you're interested in.