I'm just bored, so here's something rushed & cliche. #bluepup
The POVs change: ● = Guy ○ = Girl And also there are 3 parts narrated in diff. POVs kinda...I honestly have no idea what I did, but whatever- this is how it ended up. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ~~~~~~~~~~ Fated Reunion ~~~~~~~~~~ ○ He appears before me Again after so many years My eyes can barely stop the tears And my face instead chooses to smile ○ ● There’s nostalgia in her eyes And it takes me by surprise She even remembers I made a cameo in her life ●
○ We reunited As Fate had scripted And reminisced The memories we had created ○ ● We sat for hours Sharing the stories we missed And at the end of our discussion I suggested we write more ● ○ And that’s how it all began again A simple suggestion Of “maybe we should meet often” Introduced to us new chapters ○
● I never thought life would alter So much ‘cause of one encounter Little did I know I wasn’t just some extra But a character worth staying By the side of the heroine ● ○ I never could have imagined That togetherness was our destiny No matter how desperate was the dream I had always wanted to be reality Yet we had seen us through to the end Of an inevitable possibility ○
Crossroads ~~~~~~~~ My senses are distorted As the language of my reality Mixes And is absorbed into itself, Where once it was my native tongue, Yet no more am I to speak it
All of a sudden, Yet seemingly in slow motion, I’m reading my world backwards, While the words describing The beingness around me Are warped into a new truth
The concept of existence has changed, Parallels became one At a certain point in time, Creating an intersection of space I’m unsure of where to cross
My mind cannot focus Or decipher The true meaning Of transformation, Yet still here I am, Solely occupying the land of truth Before a crossroads
One way leads To the deception of paradise, Another to a false reality, And the last, to a realm of uncertainty
But is it really necessary For me to travel purposely To falsity When my whole world view Became clear to me? Is choosing to stay awake To the truth of everything Really the only decision left? Should I remain here alone, Waiting, Always waiting for another To open their eyes And realize the illusion? Or should I choose a path I’ll never remember walking on And forget That I, once upon a time, Could have chosen a path of no regret?
He hacked his way to victory Round after round Yet lost to one stranger Over and over again In shock over his losses And impressed with her skillset He contacted her on a silly little whim
Though cautious at first Of the competitor across the screen A compliment was all it took For her heart to be shook And from there She eagerly replied To his curious side
What grabbed their attention Was the other's potential And afterwards, they traded Insta Talked for hours Sharing art and poems Sent from across the world To each other Indulging in moments Of storytelling Where anywhere and to anyone else Would be nothing much more Than a few insignificant words
On it went At a certain time everyday Taking turns saying hi Yet always searching For anything else to say To fill the seconds they could spare In their mismatched zones of time Wondering what the future'd be like If both remained present In the other's existence
Notes: * I couldn't find a pic that would match this the way I wanted so I just chose a random one (lol pretend she's looking at her messages instead of taking a selfie)
*And if you're confused about the Unforeseen Connection title and the third eye thing- the point is that the 2 characters themselves didn't see or expect anything at first...(I wanted to get rid of the third eye part cuz it didnt seem to fit but then I'd have to change the title and I'm not good with titles so I just left it)
*If you've seen a picture that matches it better and know where to find it, I would appreciate it if u could leave a link or something in the comments
I read each word, Yet I don't understand, It's as if my brain has been crouching so long, Hovering over the collage of letters, That when I stand up suddenly, All I see is darkness While my eyes are still open
The essence of the letter eludes me, As each silent whisper Of my thoughts tracing the cursive, Seem to drift off the pages like a ghost, Haunting what I could have known but never learned
And as I get to the end, I know I'll have to read it all over again So that maybe I'll comprehend After reading a second time
But no matter how I skim through, How fast, How slow, How long, I stare at the ink, Convincing myself to believe I don't understand the writing, Though I've actually known all along What it's conveying, But I don't want your message to hurt me
Thus, my eyes, which have glided Over these unchanged words a million times In a few short hours In hopes they would suddenly gain a new meaning, Feign blindness to deny The pure harshness of reality
Sorry that it's a little choppy I had to somehow reduce the original amount of lines to 20 to follow the challenge rules.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Midnight Spies •••••••••••••••••••••• The lady in black sat in the back Wearing a hat meant to hide the truth in her eyes From the crowd fooled by Her taciturn disguise
Soon, the clock struck midnight And she, whose eyes couldn't lie, Looked up to face the gentleman before her Who came requesting a dance
He approached for he had his suspicions Yet he couldn't confirm if it was really her whom he sought For the brim of a fedora Cast shadows over half her facial features
Chin low with a seemingly shy smirk She accepted his offer And, hand-in-hand, they entered the 'battlefield' Assuming their positions, They synchronized with the music Whilst almost close enough To breathe the same breaths Then the bullets of inquiry were fired
You're. .. The ink to my pages, The words to my blank spaces, The dot of my dimples, The cross of my religion, The forever to my finiteness
And in the everlasting finity of us, Our story created a spark, An unpredictable variable In an experimental mixture Of passion and imagination
We didn't know Where it would take us, How long we would last With a wildfire in our parchment palace, Yet we persisted in our lovely innocence, Cherishing each moment between the lines
And maybe That was a mistake we'd never regret Or a blessing we can never forget, But no matter what we label The unknown that almost undid us, What remains is the fact That without the sudden firestorm, We would not have become what we are
And if we consider How papers may glow in fire But books burn into hearts We could appreciate more The tale of our blazing love
Love Letters to Broken Hearts ~~•~•~~•~•~~•~•~~•~•~~•~•~~•~•~~ I met a broken heart last week. Asked why the break-up came to be.
She said, “He didn’t like me being me.”
My eyebrow rose in confusion, yet I nodded like I understood the complexity of relationships and responded with some random words off the top of my head, of which I hoped sounded like wise advice. “It’s nothing to dwell on. Everyone breaks piece by piece, showing off little fragments of themselves until they find the one longing for the whole puzzle. Clearly, he wasn’t the one, so just move on to find the one who will accept nothing less than all of you.”
“That’s harder than it sounds,” she countered, and I said, “Maybe, but going on a scavenger hunt for puzzle pieces sounds a lot more fun than crying over someone who never bothered to look.”
Anyways, I met a broken heart last week. In the process, I discovered my talent for poetry on a topic I’ve never even experienced myself. Yes, love! After that whole ordeal of me giving sage advice to a random stranger in a storage closet at my school, I thought of something I figured would be a neat idea: I should just write “love” letters to broken hearts- not love letters as in the “I love you! Date me?” kind, but the kind of sweet love notes that express how much you appreciate their existence and all the things their heartbreakers couldn't see.
Of course, spontaneous lil’ me had to go and act on this idea. Let me just say that the test run on this drive of good deeding (yes, I know that’s not actually a real term) didn’t go as well as planned. Somehow, I ended up with a fiery handprint on my left cheek- the answer to a total misunderstanding created by me. I didn’t deserve it (they obviously didn’t know that), but I didn’t get upset about it. Nope, not at all. Instead, I thought of the stinging pain as constructive criticism which led me to tone down and tweak my non-romancing love letter techniques.
I persevered under the alias, CupidGotNothin’OnMe, because I learned that signing my real name may lead to unwanted and undeserved consequences. Granted, I should have picked a better name, perhaps a name that suggests, “I mean what I say with all my heart” such as Sincerely, (Just think: at the bottom of every note, the words, “Signed, Sincerely”), but um...let’s just say I was too lazy to change it in time before it stuck. And boy, did it stick, spreading all over school and even to the neighboring schools thanks to social media: “More wise words from @CupidGotNothinOnMe,” “@CupidGotNothinOnMe left me a note,” “Who is @CupidGotNothinOnMe and who will they strike next,” “Thank you, @CupidGotNothinOnMe.” I exaggerated, more or less, but at least this time my letters of “You are lovely” poems were well received. No slaps to the face came my way, whether that be because my letters were sent anonymously or because my wording improved, I’ll never know, but I like to think it’s because the offered pieces of my whole heart helped heal their broken ones (at least a little bit).
Visualize this color. Think of what it makes you feel. What it stands for. What the story hidden in it could be. Then create a short story, drabble, one - line story, poem, anything that takes your fancy.
At winter's edge when rises the morn Cold and bright, getting warmer every dawn Rise Goddess of the morning throng, To compose the mellifluous medley of birdsong. Why does the sun rise blushing as a new bride? And why is the sky in the same rouge dyed ? Giggling like two best friends with secret loves; Waiting for messengers in flighty doves. I watch the world from my balcony — an overarching God, The kingdom that Night, with blissful sleep, had sod. And I watch the world throw off its ephemeral veil, That mist places over it every night without fail. And I watch the world as it tries to shake off its winter, The sun for all its glorious vitality seems to grow colder. It is an hour already since the dawn has called, And I watch still as an audience enthralled. Sadly soon the world will be filled with city sights again, So I slip into this human skin with its plastic smile ever feigned. The God is gone and the Goddess has fled, And the world has woken up with its humanity dead.
On a day like any other, Windy and sunny; When I gazed, all curiosity, Upon the old bearded sea; He reflected the sun off his greyish waves, And fleetingly blinded me.
For dreams and philosophy Were things of the past; The whimsical charm of curiosity Of long longing stares at old books In quaint bookstores or antique libraries. That luxury of time is gone forever; Sacrificed at the bloody altar of Modernity.
The sea grays with an incoming storm, The seagulls are loathe to fight the wind; They crash about whichever course may form Between the sheets of sea and wind.
When the storm has tired itself out With one foot upon land; There will be seashells all strewn about, Amongst the debris of humanity. As though it came to water a garden, That blooms only in calamity, When the sea spits them whole or broken Straight into the lap of adversity. And so they come to join the rest: The woeful debris of humanity.