Resources For Writing Injuries

ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID????? Kindest regards, 

sometimes a poem is just a poem and sometimes a poem is actually a confession and sometimes a poem is a person and sometimes a poem is a cardinal. sometimes art is just art and sometimes art is actually therapy and sometimes it’s a pipe and sometimes it’s also not a pipe. 

sometimes the text is “got home safe!” and sometimes the text is actually saying i already miss the way your hair feels in my hands and sometimes the text is a warning and sometimes the text is thank you for caring. sometimes you are on the phone with your friend and you’re talking about curious monkeys but you’re also both admitting how lonely you are but you’re also both talking about how love can be a bicycle and sometimes it is not a conversation it’s an intervention and sometimes it’s not a conversation it’s a poem and sometimes it’s not a conversation it’s an art piece and sometimes it’s just a conversation but more often it’s holding hands without touching

& sometimes you are in an argument about the dishes but none of the things you are mad about are about dishes, they’re about the stuff around the dishes and the hands and the soap and how he smelled on sunday of another girl. sometimes the dishes aren’t even dishes they’re blankets and sometimes they’re burnt food and sometimes they’re your favorite book. sometimes the song isn’t a song sometimes the song is a manipulation and sometimes the song is just bad and sometimes the song is stuck in my head from you singing it in bed and sometimes it is “i listened to this so i could learn what you like” and sometimes it is “i showed you this because i want to also show you my palm lines and my heart and the inside of my head.” 

sometimes you are dancing alone but you are not dancing alone because you are picturing seeing her in a green velvet dress across the room from you, and sometimes you are dancing with ghosts, and sometimes you are dancing with your mother’s voice. sometimes it is not a dance it is a walk and sometimes it is not a walk it is lying in bed and sometimes it is not lying in bed, it is not-dying, which is often good enough for survival purposes. 

& sometimes you say  oh, take a cookie with you when you go and you mean that i should take a cookie and sometimes you mean - take me with you, also. sometimes it is just burning something and sometimes it is burning something and sometimes it is burning a lot of other things first. sometimes it is just a shirt and sometimes it’s what you wore when you kissed her and sometimes it’s what you wore when you didn’t kiss her and sometimes it’s what you wore to the movies when you saw your last in-theatres movie without knowing it would be your last in-theatres movie. 

& sometimes the poem is just a poem and sometimes the poem is my earring in your hand and sometimes the poem is your smell and sometimes the poem is calligraphy and sometimes the poem is good lord you are addicting and sometimes the poem is a poem and sometimes the poem is unfiltered yearning and sometimes the poem is an anvil and sometimes the poem is - can i write a home, can you crawl in, can we be like little ferns, all curled up in bed. sometimes the poem is a poem and sometimes the poem is a dance and sometimes the poem is saying - no, i will skip showering, if you need me there, i’m coming.

Fall AUs

My dog yanked on its leash and now I’m lying in a giant pile of leaves and you stand there and laugh and STOP TAKING PICTURES!

I’m babysitting for the neighbors and the kid’s kite is stuck in a tree, can you please help us?

There is a competition for carving a pumpkin at the market and you think you can win against me. The Game is on!

It’s a torrential downpour and we both have to wait for the bus without shelter in sight but I have a small umbrella.

You told me you like spring better and now I have to convince you that fall is the best season.

You think it’s funny to scare me with your Halloween costume, now I’m going to show you how funny that is.

Our school has a strict “Do not throw with leaves” rule and we’re sitting in front of the principal with leaves stuck in our hair and other unfortunate places.

I have to take pictures of the colorful trees in the park for a project but somehow you always end up in all of them.

You can find more prompts at my sideblog: creativepromptsforwriting

Prompt #33

When a character being held captive is chained in such a discomforting manner that sitting hurts them more then standing. The character is forced to stand utterly still to prevent the chains digging into them, but soon exhaustion takes hold of them. They are forced to sit.

there is love in this story. even in its most brutal end. there is love in the story. how? where? here: here in me telling it to you, in spite of everything. because of everything.

👏🏾Education 👏🏾is 👏🏾a 👏🏾right,👏🏾 not👏🏾 a👏🏾 service 👏🏾

Pass along and use the shit out of them

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

“I’m legally dead in nine different star systems.”

submitted by anonymous a rick and morty fan

You are a burglar. But you’re no ordinary burglar. You don’t steal TVs or cars or even money. You steal hearts.

Thor Ragnarok is really about how nothing brings together two siblings like ganging up on the third one