✰ ι 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 ḟ@η⊥@ş¥. Current obsession: Arcane. ωнιℓє ѕяιввℓιиg ∂σωи ωσя∂ѕ, ι ℓιѕтєи тσ мυѕι¢. << I dont live at the coordinates I promise.
✰ ι 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 ḟ@η⊥@ş¥. Current obsession: Arcane. ωнιℓє ѕяιввℓιиg ∂σωи ωσя∂ѕ, ι ℓιѕтєи тσ мυѕι¢. << I dont live at the coordinates I promise.
Like a man stubborn Like a heart torn Like an angry heart Like a vengeful heart Like a sad heart Like a nostalgic heart Like an agonizing heart…
Like the tides we wish to breathe in without break. Cant we? No, no we cant. But he’ll stand there, waiting for my downfall the more he whispers to me. Yet he’s a coward, he whispers from a distance. He knows i’ll grab him by the ear and show him who truly is the authority. Certainly, it’s not me. And yet the more the question will never not linger, am I a fool? So the more I change for my life to continue, to present me with it’s own proposals, I can only hang my head as my chants turn to seemingly nothing. The more I write here, the more a part of me is lost, unable to hide, unable to covet, unable to breathe, blink, watch. Watch me. Does this paragraph make more sense than anyone who wants it to? No, no it doesnt. I wanted a theme. I cant find one. Yet I cant find myself to enjoy the thought of death, as most of the population would. I just cant. I have a destiny. I do. Really. Right? Yeah.. Yeah? I have a destiny? Wait, what? I’m spiraling the more these thoughts drown and the more they surface. Whether here or not, hear this or not. Thanks, really, for this interesting proposal of death, devil. No, I cant thank you or love you for it. Because why would I love the one who caused such ruckus among my brain? Barbaric! And Oh, The Irony of life kicks in no matter the place I try to drown away in.
Blue eyes, brown eyes. Shorter, taller. Brown hair, golden hair. Competitive, not. Diabetic, not. Wounded..
Wounded.
Please dont leave, Piper. Just dont. If you leave, so will parts of my world. Parts of me. I will internally bleed. I will internally break. I will internally hurt. I will internally sob. I will internally crumble. My world will crumble without you beside me. Those silly handshakes we would make, then forget everything but the butt tap part months later. Those moments we would yell, then next day be friends once more. Yet not friends, best friends. If you leave, my hearts strings will be torn. Like a harp with no harpist to play, the strings soon breaking. With time comes scars.
Please dont give me those scars.
Please dont leave.
Oh the days we would whisper about the boys you liked.. Oh the days we cried due to the irony of life..
You were there when he lost his eye. You were there when I lost parts of my family. You were there for the death of my beloved dog.
I was there when you were diagnosed. I was there when you were diagnosed.. again. I was there when you moved.
.. But I dont wanna be there to watch you move away from me again.
So please, dont leave me.
Dont leave our memories.
Room 106, I think. I step in, immediately greeted with the acrid smell of Axe Body Spray. Oh no. I feel my heart drop. A guy? I simply kept walking, trying to justify how I felt about this stupid situation. Yet the more I walked into the room, the more my nose burned with the smell of testosterone and other cologne smelling scents. I just walked into my room, which I then procceeded to cover my mouth so a scream wouldnt leave my vocal cords. There was a damn cat in my bed, laying in it like it owned the place. It’s yellow eyes just sank into me, looking down at me like it was saying ‘ you should go. This guy’s crazy.’ I did like cats, just right now, I had shit to do. I simply picked up the cat, which, was very hard to put that cat back down. So cute.. I glanced into what seemed like my roomates room, and noticed the bathroom door closed. “ Must be showering,” I murmured. I began to unpack my belongings, making this room seem like my very own back at home. I did some digging on my laptop to find out who this dude was. James Legeor. Just some Highschool dirtbag that I dated for at least two months. This would either be so, so cringe worthy, or very interesting. I put my lap top away, and took a step back to admire my room. Yet I tell you, the moment I backed up, there was a dude behind me. And the worst part? When I turned to face him he had just gotten out of the shower.
And he wasnt wearing a towel.
( not doing a poem cause yall know I aint rock like that.)
The more I dont hug my mother the more I see her age showing. The more I see it hurt. The more I see myself growing. Growing without her. Soon, without her guidance. Without her motherly affections to keep my going everyday. So I stopped spending so many hours mindlessely scrolling with no avail, to find that I much rather enjoy talking and laughing with my mother. Oh, what a sound.. play it again. But more often than not, I feel so much regret. I hardly can face my own mother without feeling swayed. Like air sucked from my body all at once, threatning the collapse of my legs. So instead, I really enjoy just hanging out with her, just as I did when I was younger. Thirteen now, and many more numbers to go. Yet through all, she’s the fire in my life. Not my deadbeat father. Or even the O amazing dog. So every day we go for a drive, or hike, or walk, or run, or laugh, or talk. I love every one, yet the one I love most, is when I’m able to just talk with her. To tell her things i’m incapable of with anyone else. She’s there, no matter the circumstances, and for that i’m forever grateful. So, now, hand in hand, worlds happily colldied as mother and daughter, we skip through life, through the bad stuff. We will never be separated, i’m sure.
She held my hand, and breathed her last next to me. Smiling. Red roses on your grave, mother. One by one these bloodhounds just keep coming. But now rest. Sleep in that casket that was already made. It sent goosebumps along my skin to see her once fiery eyes, once healthy and sweet self, dissapate like a finger snap. What cannibals, to eat from such a plentiful supper? Seeing her eyes no more glassy, but more of a matte color. Lifeless in every way, even love.
Good luck killing me now, because I already know where i’ll be.
Hand in hand, Time was always Running out.
I did do well trying to avoid every camera and guard stationed everywhere. It was like a maze, but in this case, I knew where I was going. Yet I had someone tailing me. Someone I really, really didnt want to be tailing me. He was known as a flirty dude, but with ill intent. Only to me he was known as a flirty dude, because i’m the only one who had ever encountered him anyways.. I simply began making quick turns through the halls, soon entering even damned ventilation systems. A squeeze, but it did the job. Soon, I was in the main hall where it was quiet, and I dropped down. Only to slap my hands over my mouth as a certain someone caught me.
“ Hey Isha. How ya been partner?” The flirty bastard grinned down at me, holding me like a damn puppet. I just walked away from his grasp, embarrassed. “ You can’t be here asshole! I have.. things to do!” I grumbled, face palming. He didnt respond, just putting his hands in his pockets like a moody teenager. He had brown eyes and gorgeous features, like his well muscled body that.. oh nevermind, what am I saying? He casually dangled something in front of my face. The thing I had been looking for. The whole reason for this stupid mission. I tried to snatch the bracelet, but he pulled it back, giving a ‘ tsk, tsk..’ “ What the hell, man? How did you find it?” She almost found it funny. Almost. “ I was just bored so I took it from a security guard. All I did was ask..” He had an innocent look in his eyes, full of dishonesty. “ You killed him? Man, that was unecessary, now you’re gonna have more charges against you if you get caught..” I just shook my head. This was unbelievable. “ Yeah, yeah. Listen, I wanted you to start teaching me how to use all your fancy gadgets and shit. If you do that for me, i’ll give you the bracelet.” He said. His brown eyes were serious, unwavering, unblinking. “ Gadge—? Oh. Ohhhhh.. dang. Really? Give me a time, but nothing from six a.m. to three p.m…” I thought for a moment, lost in the prospect of getting that bracelet, “ How about on weekends?” He nodded almost without a moment to spare, gave me the bracelet, threatened me, then disappeared. .. Mission complete?
Now, on weekends as agreed, i taught him how to use the weaponary he didnt know how to use.
So for months now, he had been gaining knowledge from me. Was this a bad idea? Likely. But hey, he was a smart guy who helped with my missions. It was a win-win. Though, I cant help but feel some sort of attachment to him.. perhaps it sounds.. unreal. Oh well.
Ten years we’ve been married now, and thriving with two kids. ‘ Oh well,’ my ass.
Look where those silly gadget lessons got me.
“ Bye Katie!” Chirped my friend Cassie. I was twelve at the time. I waved and said my own goodbyes, soon closing the door, my mom smiling, and looking at me. “ Did you have a good day?” She asked. I nodded, a wide grin on my face, almost sickly. My mother chuckled and nodded, and headed into the kitchen. “ I’ll be making dinner.” I nodded and went upstairs, my feet dragging the whole way. I went upstairs, closed my door, and sat on my bed.
Katie sat there for some time, her heart hurting. Every one of those bad thoughts swirled back around her head, the thoughts that threatened her heart to do bad things her parents had warned her that sad people do. She was a sad person, part of those sad people. Yet she never cried, and she never threatened her flesh with sharp objects. She never did physically beat herself up, yet she never tried to mentally do it either. But still it happened. She would sit for hours and wonder. Contemplate. Ponder. Everyone said she was a good writer. How could that be true? They could all just be lying to make her feel better. Her parents would tell her how gorgeous she was, how talented she was. How could that be true? They could all just be lying to make her happy. How could she even trust her own family? All they did was raise her.. not like they chose her to raise. Maybe she was really annoying but her parents were too kind to say otherwise. Maybe the comments her siblings made about her were true. She was an idiot. She would work a maids job one day. She was ( sarcsatically said ) the ‘ perfect girl who apparently did no wrong.’ She was the crybaby and piece of actual living shit.
It felt so true.
So real.
So painful.
She just wanted to know her purpose. Maybe she had none, and really was just some delusional child. Maybe the issues she thought she had were just delusions, and she was just dramatic. Maybe her dad left her for some reason. She couldnt quite ever really grip why she thought these things. Or rather, someone slipped them into her mind. Maybe from all those years ago when her math teacher gave up on her, it was because she really was a lost cause of no worth. No value.
And yet, people would keep saying, “ You’re here for a purpose.”
Then please, tell me.. enlighten me..
What purpose?
I looked up as my mom entered the room, i shifted to make it look like I was doing something. “ Dinner’s ready Kate.” I got up, and smiled sweetly. We went downstairs, and we began eating.
I never could eat much, I was always the slow eater. Yet when I tried to keep up and eat at the fast pace everyone else did, my stomach would tingle. I ate anyways, and would feel horrible when I couldn’t finsih my food. My parents would look at me disapprovingly, but that was a few years ago. With my father gone, my mother now gaining back her strength and sense of confidence, she was the best mom. I loved her, and love her.
It’s always when I think the bad thoughts, it’s like she just knows. She’d say, “ dinner’s served.”
“ Hey. Are you single?” Said Cain. He was a stranger at the time, no less of a person to me. I found his straightforwardness endearing, so I accepted him. Eight years now we’ve been married, and life couldnt be more of a hell hole. Andduhhhh
GUYS IM SO SORRY IM SO TIRED GET PART TWO LATER))
GUYS BE WARNED THIS CONTAINS OLD GACHA LIFE WILLIAM AFTON, WARRIOR CATS, WINGS OF FIRE CHARACTERS, AND SOME RANDOM FNAF LORE I’M SO SORRY—
( let’s just pretend we casually drop into one of those gacha life rooms that are like ‘ william aftons fangirls are stuck in a room with him for 24 hours!!🥲🥲)
( P.S. If you dont understand any of these topics just scroll :’) )
I sat on the floor, confused, and most of all, excited. These characters were so familiar, so nostalgic. Some already knew of me, due to how I had written about most in the past.. Yet a few characters stood out to me, approaching me, even.
“ You made excellent stories about my clan.” Came the voice of Firestar, the Thunderclan leader. I remembered him almsot immediately. I remember writing such things about him, finding his life fascinating, his actions more intriguing. More cats began to walk towards me. Graystripe, Jay Feather quickest.. yet one stood next to Firestar. Squirrelfight. The one I had admired for the longest time. I paid my respects to both, bowing, and feeling my heartbeat quicken with excitement. “ Thank you for being apart of my life. The helaing of the trauma.” I simply said. They nodded, and walked off, fading. The next characters I wrote about.. oh gosh. “ You.” Said a voice. William Afton and his daughter and two sons. Yet not in their animatronic ( or decaying ) state. I paid my respects only to his youngesy son and daughter. Neither of the other two Aftons needed my respect or recognition. Yet Evan pulled at my sleeve. He handed me a small bear plushy, and resumed holding hands with his sister, walking off into the distance. The beat in my hand faded too. Sadly. The next characters were five very.. very familiar dragons. Tsunami, Glory, Starflight, Clay, and Sunny. It was like a dream. Tsunami gave me a warriors pound to the chest, walking off. Glory bowed to me, her colors changing to a soft yellowish-pink. She walked off and next came Starflight, who bowed, though his vision far beyond impaired by now. “ I really liked re-enacting the scrolls you read.” I said to him. He smiled warmly, and continued walking. Then came Clay, who gave me a friendly side hug, though his rough scales scraped me slightly. I didnt mind. He walked off, and then came Sunny. “ We all enjoyed your stories. Thank you, and you’re welcome.” She smiled sweetly, patting my shoulder as she walked by.
It hurt though, to see the nostalgia fly by..
Yeah, he and I hated one another dearly throughout childhood. Yet at the same time, we shared common interests, yet also at the same time, we shared a common enemy. Either someone at school, or one another. Yes, we’ve had our ups and downs, secrets sealed, kept from our mother as we sneakily tip-toed around her with them. That was a problem. We could keep so many secrets, yet we couldnt be fully truthful to one another. It’s like water. You go under the surface, knowing well you mean to back up. **Yet everythings quiet. ** At your own pace. But after a moment, you feel the itch at your lungs to breathe. At first a reminder. Then the question gnaws.
Have you had enough?
**Now your lungs no longer only left a small it h as a reminder. ** They’d burn. They’d scream for a chance at air. But that’s up to you, isnt it? You’d float back up to the surface anyway even if you decided you didnt want to come up for a last breath, because in your mind, you had already breathed your last.
Then a truth reveals.
I could only see blame for myself, no matter the times my mother reminded me I did good.
Have I had enough?
Maybe he seems to have brown hair.. Or maybe black? I could only wonder. Maybe he has.. blue eyes? No. Brown. But no! What if they were green? Or grey? I wouldnt mind.. I just want that hand to reach for me. Those eyes to search for me and only me in a crowd. If he really wants me, come and get me. I just hope you last. Maybe nobody told him how to be a real man. Maybe someone did. Maybe he only soughts for me when he needs help. What if he truly doesn’t want me? That isnt true, is it? He needs to love me. He needs to. He has to. Please. I HATE YOU SO MUCH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE JUST—
Dear future husband. I dont know you yet. I just want a hand, if that’s okay. A listening ear if you will. Maybe you wont understand all the things I am. I’m just crazy in too many ways. But please love me on days I feel like I cant love anyone. Please cradle me when I need it. Just dont forget about me. Could I be enough for you? Maybe you’d think i’m too dumb. I come complete with a pack of being bad at many things. I promise i’m trying to improve. I really, really do. I’m so scared that I’ll screw my life up. But please be there to screw it back in. Oh, the darkness of this atmosphere..
Thanks.