Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
Submitted by snoop
Write a poem about something getting washed away, either literally or metaphorically.
Writings
i never got to tell anyone
exactly how i fell for you
recount the moments meticulously
like i would if i were writing a recipe
a doctor’s operating manual
a washing instruction
cold wash, 20 degrees
sullen, swooping mountains are all one can see
for the entire misty day you waited for me
and by sunset you caught a glimpse of me
you opened your arms in glee
when my clothes still reeked of rai...
I lost my streak today.
Well, yesterday I guess.
I put it off and put it off,
And only realized at 12:35 am.
I can’t describe how it felt to see that “0” where my streak should be.
I got to 154 days.
That’s the longest streak I’ve ever kept.
Ever.
In my entire life.
154 was the very best I could do.
5 months.
I couldn’t even get to half a year.
And part of me wants to be vicious,
To take out this...
Missing her comes in waves.
I let them crash into me, and pull me into the ocean with her.
The salt stings my eyes, but I keep on.
Moving further out to sea, I’m choking on gulps of her salt water.
Eyes stinging, and tears burning, I beg her for more.
I beg the waves to pull me in deeper,
Because the pain of missing her must be better than the pain of moving on without her.
Now I'm in too...
With a stick I drew my heart
Deep into the wet sand
Far from the waves
It was crooked and more like a circle
But it was my heart
And everyday I’d sit next to it
Watching you
Hearing you
Dreaming of you
You’d swim in the deep waves
Riding them
Taming them
They called you the ocean’s trust
But in my heart I called you the one
I watched you swim
Laughing with the waves
I watched my heart
The ...
The dullness of the room weighs heavily against Chuuya's caring hand, partly weighing to a painful press against Dazai and partly pushing Chuuya's muscles for maintenance.
Blood runs hazardously down Dazai's pale arm, dripping onto the pristine white tile as emotion slowly drips back into his eyes. Chuuya dab's carefully at the streams of blood and their sources— long, deep cuts.
"You need to s...
I never thought I could be washed white as snow.
Snow is pretty white after all, and I feel pretty grey.
This life has thrown its share of dust and mud in my face,
And yet here I stand, polished up without spot or wrinkle,
How can this be?
A bride you say, in this dustbowl of life,
The one lifted out of the miry clay
The one washed and cleansed from darkness, shame
from the muck and the more tha...
I miss them. A lot. I still can hear their voices ringing in my ears, but that shouldnt happen. They hurt me, right? Right?
Wake up.
Where am I?
Oh, right.
Acrisius sat up shakily.
His bones throbbed, and he felt as useless as every other day.
It had been a year since his mate, Whisper, had been murdered.
He turned to stare at his wings.
Once pretty and luminous, they were no longer.
He f...
Away go the people who might’ve been fake
But maybe they’re thinking and saying the same.
It’s not them the ones who wash away.
It’s my problem who was not in a regular pase.
I try controlling what I’m thinking
What I’m feeling is starting to feel like hate
I can feel those goosebumps with my soul randomly twisting
Maybe their acts made me a little bit like them.
Is my problem washing ...
Lately my emotion has evoked the skies to cry
Weeks it’s been pouring
From way up high to my eyes
It’s mimicking my sadness
The atmosphere is permitting me to be a recluse
So for now ill stay dry and warm inside
In my shell like a hermit
Until I can feel it all and not break
Until I can sleep sound
And rested, refresheningly awake...
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