Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
Write a poem that has an uncanny mood.
Uncanny is defined as strange or mysterious, especially in an unsettling way.
Writings
The floorboards creak with echoes deep Awake the things that never sleep A figure stands by the cracked old door A smile that’s crooked, teeth one more In the darkness it lingers still It’s silence colder than the chill I feel its presence and energy surrounding The force it conjures left me confounding I narrowed my eyes and the shadows grin For they’ve been watching all this time within.
The rings of the bells The hurdle of it all It may cause your downfall.
If you ehar a certain ring, Do not be scared to sing Because if they call back, and you're free, They might take you out of glee.
Do not fret, Yet it is all a bet Do not fret, The bet is done, yet All you can do to truly seal it all Is to do everything excluding the life And instead living in immense fright.
Go on, Drown in this darkness. Protect this silence like a weakness, Hold on.
Show me, Your lost self. Sinking under bad health, Prove me.
Give in, And let yourself go. Let your tears flow, It ain’t a motherfucking sin.
Crawl into, That darkest cave. Thinking this will save, But I have been too.
I was there, Sat on the edge of reason. Cursing this rotten season, But now I am without fear.
…
Love You baby 🖤
The sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating the things in its path. Where the long forgotten are found. Where the room will fill with heat. Where the walls are highlighted with soft, pale brush strokes. Where a naturally golden blond glitters over the remains of our past selves. Where the shadows will waver overcome by the brightness, Because evan in the light there is darkness.
when someone hurts you intentionally that is sin, it is sin, sin, sin, slithering its way beneath your skin, raising a scar, be it a reminder or a trophy for all to see that says yes yes yes i won this fight and this is my reward and even when it’s a helping wound beneath the blade of a scalpel or point of a needle and thread the hurt is all the same and your scars will raise and bubble with blood that pops and spills and hurts all over again and your skin will get thicker and thicker and thicker until you can’t make it hurt anymore
occasionally you bleed too much, too much, too much, and the evil can’t worm its way through the mess and into your flesh so all it leaves is emptiness a divot where your skin should be but it isn’t, isn’t, isn’t, and that’s quite a thought because oh where did it go where did it go your skin is a canyon where there used to be a river of blood now dried
sometimes it’s an accident and that’s ok because a small cut isn’t big enough to give way for the devil but oh son do small cuts bleed and bleed and bleed, they scab over, they shed and peel and itch but then they turn white and disappear and thank god they do because it’s embarassing to have a mistake etched into your skin isn’t it
Flames rip through us Dreams ground into dust Enough ghosts roaming To swallow the earth whole If only they breathed The same air as the living The sky hangs dark And thick with tragedy Hope glints like distant stars You squint to see any of it You reach your arm out to fit just one Into the frame of two fingers At just the right angle You lean into the illusion That it’s still within reach You tell me you’re crazy I tell you I know You see it in me too So you pull me close To kiss the missing parts in you You wander through your heavy house The walls are screaming You can tell by the way the paint is peeling Bursting with memory and feeling Years spent off balance Has sent it all reeling Art to cover the walls And hands to cover your ears You try to explain what it is that you hear When night falls and the wind blows Carrying the message of the weight of the world It whips flames through our homes Manufacturing early graves Toppling trees and battling with the seas It whips blood flow into our cheeks Begging for an audience Wake up! It pleads But no one will hear it The world keeps burning We stare at screens and fan the flames We consume and we are consumed Look for little pleasures to give it all measure What’s a life worth building When you can’t see through the smoke Build anyway and watch it shatter? Or patiently wait for the ashes to scatter And start again
A creaky door A squeaky floor A creppy eiree feeling Shadows here Shadows there Ghosts everywhere I feel a presence Light and airy Terrified all the same A ghost a ghoul with whom I will duel With my heavy beating heart I breathe hard Dust scattered My feet shuffle around I fear I am not alone I shudder I hear a scowl I jump I screech I run That was not at all fun
I kissed your chaos once, tongue tracing the edges of your jagged promises, swallowed your fire like it could save me, but it burned holes in my throat, Now I’m unable to scream.
You were a hymn in reverse, words stitched backwards on my brain, Needle and thread, a drug I thought was medicine, but now I see the needle’s rust.
Love is a liar with a venomous tongue, I remember the taste of poison on your lips. Your hands carved infection into my skin, the lines between passion and punishment blurred, Like rain on a cracked windshield.
I hated you, softly at first, like a shadow lurking at the edges of the sun. But now, that hatred brings me to my knees, Drowning the stars in the blackest night. You devoured me like a disease.
Every “I love you” was a loaded gun. Each kiss, a trapdoor. I fell through and kept falling, until numbness caught me like a safety net woven from the fibers of your lies.
You were beautiful once, But even love must crumble into hate, Every rose must decay, and thorns will still draw blood, Long after the pedals fade and fall.
Don’t let anyone who hasn’t walked in your shoes tell you how to tie your laces remember your destined travel to great places.
At least everyone say we shouldn’t race to be first place to not focus on our friends to not follow any trends .
They tell you to clean the mess you have created , but they have never stained the floors with there own blood .
Judged for every mistake and imperfection as they nudge my mind to the tomb , as you wait for it to consume my soul as you watch me fall .
You see society is filled with people that carry two faces , People who are willing to throw you into a grave to dim your light and stop you from being brave .
The scar upon my skin are proof of the battle I faught within my mind . I wish I could rewind to the day I etched the blade across my skin the way I signed the design .
The never ending plaster hopeing to fix the disaster , hiding the gaping wound to escape from the harm that I inflict upon myself , how the urges always win .
Don’t be alarmed ! I’m trying to be calm the way I trace around my palm taking a breath with every stroke , inhaling to ease the drumming of my chest to find a moment of rest .
Can’t you see I’m doing my best .
Darkness surrounds her As she tries to break free The binds that tie her Also tie me
We try together To untie the binds Birds of a feather Now both blind
Living in hell The house our prison We both know too well What is the reason
Rich and lucky Most people think The gilded cage is heavy Both on the brink
Luxury is a habit No money for ourselves Trust fund rabbits Life on the shelves
Similar writing prompts