Benjamin Linus
I usually like writing prose but I have been leaning into poetry more recently. Very big MTG and music nerd.
Benjamin Linus
I usually like writing prose but I have been leaning into poetry more recently. Very big MTG and music nerd.
I usually like writing prose but I have been leaning into poetry more recently. Very big MTG and music nerd.
I usually like writing prose but I have been leaning into poetry more recently. Very big MTG and music nerd.
The summer of ‘23 was when Troy Conners adamantly decided to brave his fears and become a better version of his troubled self. The world hasn’t spun like clockwork for years, it only bled like an open wound which slowly killed him. Following his younger brother’s death, time had stretched and stagnated. Soon, it had flowed quickly, meaningless years slipping away from his grasp like sand.
Troy w...
Blood churns,
Roaring like waves in our flesh,
Processing like the air in our lungs
Blood spills,
Escaping the chalice of life,
Brimming in the gutters of the earth
A writhing mass or steadfast entity,
One and the same
It is the marionette that controls this silly world,
Yet the tortured immortal that suffers each injury
Tonight, blood is suspended in the night sky,
A centralized eye of sanguine...
The dripping rain feels like it is tearing at me as I dash along the barren rooftops. My alarm kicks in constantly when I hear Tilton's pattering footsteps just paces behind me. I'm so frightened of captivity that my reflexes flare at even my own partner's footsteps. I still never look back, knowing any slip up could mean my incarceration, or much worse. The PermaFrost bots chasing us have no flaw...
My illicit ways surface in every burst of adrenaline
Adrenaline that shades over morality with instinct,
Instinct that charges my body in an arch of motion
Motion for a fight,
Fight for the survival
Survival is the marrow of my being,
Being hostile is the trigger keeping me alive,
Alive, sparks of resistance uproar,
Uproar into an event where form and purpose converge
Converge into an untamed cre...
It’s the night that keeps your mind prone to change,
The terror is amplified,
Belief of the supernatural is on the horizon
Your breath dissolves in the wake of madness,
Your chest constricts until it’s a mystery you still breath on,
Warmth becomes the piercing cold,
And thoughts become reality
Are you afraid of what you’ll find in the dark?
Are you afraid of what you’ll believe when your mind...
Touch,
The grip of the world as I know it
Without tactile context,
There is only a bridge between life and pointless wandering
The absence of touch,
Is a book without a spine,
A painting without a frame,
The blue sky without the ground below,
My existence without meaning...
The departure of my senses started as unnoticed as a beating heart,
As a clock that starts weaving into your mind,
Always p...
This stranger in the street,
Was yesterday my friend
A connection exhausted,
Vanished without a trace
We used to encode the world on our own terms,
Share our insecurities and secrets
Now the only secret we share is hidden behind our jaded eyes,
Mutual disgust of a friendship once had
It happened so quick,
But I knew it was far more complex
It felt like it had built up,
Boiling until it grew to ...
It’s an unnerving feeling,
The earth beneath my feet dismantling
The ground that was so long a given,
Shifting and rebalancing like sand in my hands
Clouded by the thought of a better,
Now facing the reality of my imagination
It’s the bitter realization that haunts me,
Yet it stills spits from my frightened tongue
My hair feels gray despite my youth,
A paranoid symptom of my downfall
A faded wre...
In the midst of those fateful days of October, a humble hero retreated from his apartment in New York. He wasn’t a typical fabled hero, yet he was a millionaire scientist. Highly revered by those who knew of his endeavors. Ingraham Atoll was his name, or more professionally, Dr. Atoll. As a scientist, he had pledged his service to humanity, yet it never stopped him from protecting his own wellbein...
It’s called The Mantra.
Only a few people had it. It was sometimes hard to separate from mental illness, especially since it sounded delusional. The feeling between worlds that suspended you halfway. A realm between euphoria and deceit, the mind's greatest desire or impenetrable prison. Either way, it was an escape from the real world. The Mantra was a world on its own, where dreams ran rampant....