Free Verse Club

EllieMae Creator

EllieMae Creator · Feb 28, 2024

All submissions for the March 2024 Free Verse competition can be placed here! The prompt for this month is Emotions are Friends.

Each writer can submit up to five pieces. Submit them directly here, or a link to a published YWS work or external source. Please see the FAQ and Grading Rubric for rules.

Please ask any questions on the club wall or PM @AilahEvelynMae!

Happy writing

WeepingWisteria

WeepingWisteria · Mar 1, 2024

Trigger warning for mentions of past abuse and depictions of violence. Stay safe ^^

Spoiler

I feel like I have something to say. All of my words fall flat because they’re twisted and wrong. Nothing is quite what I need to be, like something shuffled all my thoughts three inches to the left. My chest boils with unnamed emotions, and my eyes bubble with unexplained tears. A strange desire deep in my bones refuses to acknowledge its presence. I crave something, some respite or cosmic intervention. What precisely that means, I don’t know. I know everyone has internal woes, but at least they understand what they are.

Is it trauma? Is this another manifestation of wounds so deep I can’t see the bottom? My skin revolts at that, in the end. I’ve lived my life as a victim, a toy, and a painting of bruises, and I destroyed that life with my bare hands. Day in and day out, the very state of being traumatized is triggering. It feels like losing a war, bearing someone else’s cross. But it’s a scar set too deep to heal. And it’s unfair, but is that enough to cause this unsettling feeling? Is it trauma that tightens my chest and makes me feel incomplete? Or am I feeling useless? Inhuman? Fake?

The problem is I don’t feel real. I feel fiction, a narrator in someone else’s story. Whose story? I’m not sure, but it isn’t mine. Is that what I desire? To feel real, like my thoughts and actions impact this earth?

What is wrong with me? Why do emotions claw to my throat in a crescendo? Why am I terrified of endings? Why is change so painful? Why do my veins burn with a strange melancholy each and every time I wake up in the morning? I feel like I’m wandering in circles, that I can’t think right, that I’m wasting time. I am wasting time but just sitting here and feeling. What am I feeling? I don’t know. My heart won’t tell me; it just beats. My mind won’t know; it just wallows. My soul won’t care; it just aches. I live in a bubble of self-destruction. Is that what this is? My own emotions turned into serrated daggers and lodging themselves in my ribcage? I feel hollow like someone cut me down the middle and ate away my lungs.

I want to cry. Why do I want to cry? Why does nothing make any sense anymore? Why don’t my hands do what my head tells them to do? Why am I screaming at the top of my lungs, but no one hears me?

Trigger warning for mentions of past abuse and depictions of violence. Stay safe ^^
[spoiler]I feel like I have something to say. All of my words fall flat because they’re twisted and wrong. Nothing is quite what I need to be, like something shuffled all my thoughts three inches to the left. My chest boils with unnamed emotions, and my eyes bubble with unexplained tears. A strange desire deep in my bones refuses to acknowledge its presence. I crave something, some respite or cosmic intervention. What precisely that means, I don’t know. I know everyone has internal woes, but at least they understand what they are.

Is it trauma? Is this another manifestation of wounds so deep I can’t see the bottom? My skin revolts at that, in the end. I’ve lived my life as a victim, a toy, and a painting of bruises, and I destroyed that life with my bare hands. Day in and day out, the very state of being traumatized is triggering. It feels like losing a war, bearing someone else’s cross. But it’s a scar set too deep to heal. And it’s unfair, but is that enough to cause this unsettling feeling? Is it trauma that tightens my chest and makes me feel incomplete? Or am I feeling useless? Inhuman? Fake?

The problem is I don’t feel real. I feel fiction, a narrator in someone else’s story. Whose story? I’m not sure, but it isn’t mine. Is that what I desire? To feel real, like my thoughts and actions impact this earth?

What is wrong with me? Why do emotions claw to my throat in a crescendo? Why am I terrified of endings? Why is change so painful? Why do my veins burn with a strange melancholy each and every time I wake up in the morning? I feel like I’m wandering in circles, that I can’t think right, that I’m wasting time. I am wasting time but just sitting here and feeling. What am I feeling? I don’t know. My heart won’t tell me; it just beats. My mind won’t know; it just wallows. My soul won’t care; it just aches. I live in a bubble of self-destruction. Is that what this is? My own emotions turned into serrated daggers and lodging themselves in my ribcage? I feel hollow like someone cut me down the middle and ate away my lungs.

I want to cry. Why do I want to cry? Why does nothing make any sense anymore? Why don’t my hands do what my head tells them to do? Why am I screaming at the top of my lungs, but no one hears me?[/spoiler]

herb Officer

herb Officer · Mar 1, 2024

submission one:
words threaded together
do i ramble when i speak?
iseverythingisayjustonelongrunonsentence
i mean -- then again i pause
and a prerequisite of rambling is being able to go on without ever stopping
but- i- pause- after- every- single- word.
and i overstep lines don't i?
i'm rambling again aren't i?
tell me the truth-
i need to know-
my life is fleeting-
and i never seem to slow down-
itsasifiwasspeedingup-
andicouldneverstop
becauseiamlikeacarwithnobrakes
(spoileralertyoubrokethem)

mytherapistsaidtotakedeepbreaths
in -- andmywords slowdown
out-- and myburdens get lifted
focuson yourcore feelthe aircome inandout
and slowly find your voice
and slowly bring down your speed
notice how i stopped panicking?
its a trick i learned after you-
after you-
you-
(i stutter like a repeating record
my mouth trying to throw up the words,
the words i need to say)
you broke me.
(i say it
and my wo rl dco lla ps es)
yo ubr ok em ein to sha rdso fg las s
myt her api st sa idt hat idev en tual lyg eto veri t
bu tyo uwe re myev er yth in g
soh owco uldi ev erfo rge tyo u
b utm yth era pi stsa yst oca lmd own
soi' vebee nbre athi ng again
and slo wly i've colle cted my th ough ts
but the pace quickens

my heart cant take it anymore
(it whines as it's pulled by your strings)

back to where we started
what was i saying?
oh yes- rambling
i fear i just did-
and now i must ask you
do i ramble when i speak?
amia nuisance?
doimake everylittlethinga burden?
mytherapistsaystocalmdown
butidontthinkicouldeverbreathe
(atleastuntilmymemoryfades-
anditnolongerholdsmyneckinitsgrasp
untiltheniwillbeheld,chokingonthewordsyoushoveddownmythroat)

submission one:
[b]words threaded together[/b]
do i ramble when i speak?
iseverythingisayjustonelongrunonsentence
i mean -- then again i pause
and a prerequisite of rambling is being able to go on without ever stopping
but- i- pause- after- every- single- word.
and i overstep lines don't i?
i'm rambling again aren't i?
tell me the truth-
i need to know-
my life is fleeting-
and i never seem to slow down-
itsasifiwasspeedingup-
andicouldneverstop
becauseiamlikeacarwithnobrakes
(spoileralertyoubrokethem)

mytherapistsaidtotakedeepbreaths
in -- andmywords slowdown
out-- and myburdens get lifted
focuson yourcore feelthe aircome inandout
and slowly find your voice
and slowly bring down your speed
notice how i stopped panicking?
its a trick i learned after you-
after you-
you-
(i stutter like a repeating record
my mouth trying to throw up the words,
the words i need to say)
you broke me.
(i say it
and my wo rl dco lla ps es)
yo ubr ok em ein to sha rdso fg las s
myt her api st sa idt hat idev en tual lyg eto veri t
bu tyo uwe re myev er yth in g
soh owco uldi ev erfo rge tyo u
b utm yth era pi stsa yst oca lmd own
soi' vebee nbre athi ng again
and slo wly i've colle cted my th ough ts
but the pace quickens

my heart cant take it anymore
(it whines as it's pulled by your strings)

back to where we started
what was i saying?
oh yes- rambling
i fear i just did-
and now i must ask you
do i ramble when i speak?
amia nuisance?
doimake everylittlethinga burden?
mytherapistsaystocalmdown
butidontthinkicouldeverbreathe
(atleastuntilmymemoryfades-
anditnolongerholdsmyneckinitsgrasp
untiltheniwillbeheld,chokingonthewordsyoushoveddownmythroat)

Youbeaucupid

Youbeaucupid · Mar 1, 2024

Submission one:

Anger.

That's her name, saying it is smooth like a knife sliding across my tongue.
I wince at the cuts,
But the searing pain also brings a strange high,
Like adrenaline surging through my veins.

When I gaze upon her,
She seems as innocent as the demons lurking within my eyes,
But she’s playing recklessly with matches.
She was burning everything within me, Like a wildfire consuming everything in an oasis.

And I am her land.

Her flames burn my skin, leaving marks across it like freckled kisses.
I've lost my feeling, across my body.
She burns so often I've begun to think the scars are a normality,
In reality, it's just my mentality turning into insanity.

She was once just a flicker, barely considered a light,
My other senses dulled her, keeping her captive in a mental cage.

"Why is Anger locked away?"
Asks curiosity like a cat, poking the cage.

"She's dangerous! She'll burn everything in her sight."
Yells happiness, as she folds her arms.

Sanity walks into the room and looks at anger, insanity raging in her eyes.
"Get away from the cage... Leave anger here to burn away."

The others left, leaving her in the darkness,
with only her dim light keeping her company.

But anger, she is no mere flicker,
She's grown now, a raging blaze, fierce and unyielding,
A force of nature, relentless in her fury,
And I, I am her willing accomplice, her devoted servant.

My body is her canvas for insanity,
Like a map, she wonders where she should burn next.
No longer held captive, she roams free,
The other emotions cower and flee.

They can’t hold her flame in a cage anymore.
And she’s willing to burn everything in her way.

Submission one:

[b]Anger.[/b]

That's her name, saying it is smooth like a knife sliding across my tongue.
I wince at the cuts,
But the searing pain also brings a strange high,
Like adrenaline surging through my veins.

When I gaze upon her,
She seems as innocent as the demons lurking within my eyes,
But she’s playing recklessly with matches.
She was burning everything within me, Like a wildfire consuming everything in an oasis.

And I am her land.

Her flames burn my skin, leaving marks across it like freckled kisses.
I've lost my feeling, across my body.
She burns so often I've begun to think the scars are a normality,
In reality, it's just my mentality turning into insanity.

She was once just a flicker, barely considered a light,
My other senses dulled her, keeping her captive in a mental cage.

"Why is Anger locked away?"
Asks curiosity like a cat, poking the cage.

"She's dangerous! She'll burn everything in her sight."
Yells happiness, as she folds her arms.

Sanity walks into the room and looks at anger, insanity raging in her eyes.
"Get away from the cage... Leave anger here to burn away."

The others left, leaving her in the darkness,
with only her dim light keeping her company.

But anger, she is no mere flicker,
She's grown now, a raging blaze, fierce and unyielding,
A force of nature, relentless in her fury,
And I, I am her willing accomplice, her devoted servant.

My body is her canvas for insanity,
Like a map, she wonders where she should burn next.
No longer held captive, she roams free,
The other emotions cower and flee.

They can’t hold her flame in a cage anymore.
And she’s willing to burn everything in her way.

herb Officer

herb Officer · Mar 5, 2024

submission two:
pronunciation

my tongue is tied by your cruel grasp
meh-len-kall-e, no, meh-lan-coll-y, no, melon-calli?
(my mind has been twisted,
to the pointe, no, point, (or is it poynt?) of no return.)
at this point i have been put into a state of dys-tress (or dis-triss?)
i no longer know how to say anything
(and when i say eh-ne-thy-ng i mean enny-ting.)
my hand is over my mouth
preh-ven-ting me from saying
anything at all
(i want to say sum-thing but there is only nuh-thing,
and my throat is so dried out from our love (or hate)
that i can't even say pru-nun-see-ay-shun.
(or pruh-nun-sy-ai-tion? i do not know.))

herb Officer

herb Officer · Mar 5, 2024

submission three:
flaws of our broken society
SWEARING, RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, ABLEISM(?)

Spoiler

the world is inevitablely screwed
with people like you
picking on minorities
(so what, you can f*ck with an asian kid,
one with pride pins, a neurodivergent sticker, wearing a dress?)
to yell at me with such hatred
what crossed you?
(and yes, for the final time b*tch, i'm speaking english.)
"go back to your country ching chong!"
"go eat another dog!"
the reality of the 1st amendment crushes me
and my world comes
tumbling
tumbling
down
how grave of a mistake did i make,
for you to hate me so much?
(i fear that you're just being an *ssh*le to be an *ssh*le,
and you have no real motive.)
look at me,
someone-
no, something.
something you can jeer at.
"you f*g!"
"autistic freak!"
(mind you,
i am an apparition,
and you can never-
and i mean NEVER
break me down.
(for the ability to be vulnerable
was lost when i learned that it would never be fair,
and i'd always have to just put up with it,
and i'd always just have to be "resilient".)
they say that i'm so strong
but i don't feel strong
i feel like stone
being chipped away at
(plus, what does it mean to be "resilient"?
if anything, i want to cry.
alas, if i cry, they'll say-
"boys should be tough."
^^but according to them,
"you're too girly to be a boy.")

submission three:
[b]flaws of our broken society[/b]
[i]SWEARING, RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, ABLEISM(?)[/i]
[spoiler]the world is inevitablely screwed
with people like you
picking on minorities
(so what, you can f*ck with an asian kid,
one with pride pins, a neurodivergent sticker, wearing a dress?)
to yell at me with such hatred
what crossed you?
(and yes, for the final time b*tch, i'm speaking english.)
"go back to your country ching chong!"
"go eat another dog!"
the reality of the 1st amendment crushes me
and my world comes
tumbling
  tumbling
          down
how grave of a mistake did i make,
for you to hate me so much?
(i fear that you're just being an *ssh*le to be an *ssh*le,
and you have no real motive.)
look at me,
someone-
no, something.
something you can jeer at.
"you f*g!"
"autistic freak!"
(mind you,
i am an apparition,
and you can never-
and i mean NEVER
break me down.
(for the ability to be vulnerable
was lost when i learned that it would never be fair,
and i'd always have to just put up with it,
and i'd always just have to be "resilient".)
they say that i'm so strong
but i don't feel strong
i feel like stone
being chipped away at
(plus, what does it mean to be "resilient"?
if anything, i want to cry.
alas, if i cry, they'll say-
"boys should be tough."
^^but according to them,
"you're too girly to be a boy.")[/spoiler]

redcarnation

redcarnation · Mar 7, 2024

Submission one: (its about jealousy?)

i want to know
why it was you and not me?

i wanted to reach
a simple destination.
a little curve,
of the color pink.
a few little stars
in light brown irises,
as they meet
darker ones.

some consonants,
and vowels.
little pauses,
and slow exhales.
a little word.

light skin grazing
a darker one.
fingers entwining
slowly
shyly
smitten.

you got it all instead.

i want to know
why wasn’t i enough?

i know you walk
with a special confidence
with grace
with elegance.

i know you speak
unafraid.
i know your laugh
bright and strong.
i know your smiles
that capture hearts.

i don’t have any of that.

why did you have to take
what’s mine
away from me?

because i know
certainly
undoubtedly
unequivocally
unquestionably
assuredly
absolutely
that she belonged to me.

WeepingWisteria

WeepingWisteria · Mar 8, 2024

Submission Two: Hope is Not the Thing with Feathers
Spoilering this just in case for depictions of fighting

Spoiler

Hope is the thing with talons,
it is a predator,
a vicious, unrelenting thing.
It does not crumble under a mere gaze,
it snaps its claws around the weak,
crushes bones and leaves nothing left.

And Hope is the thing with scars,
it doesn't hide from the war
It takes a swing across the chest,
spits out the blood,
and makes the finishing blow.

And hope is the thing with grit in its gut.
It doesn't have to be beautiful or kind,
it's snarling and clawing and stubborn.
As long as it's still in the fight,
it is still winning,
and it is holding its head high.

And hope is the thing that keeps you up at night,
making you pace and dream and hope,
making you think that maybe, one day,
life will somehow be better than this.
And hope is the sneer in the shadows,
that tells you, together, you'll make it so.

And hope is the last one standing,
your last line of defense,
it is not dainty, not fragile, not giving up.
And hope is not the songbird or the flower or the breeze,
hope is the phoneix, the weeds, the tornado,
and it is not going down without a fight.

Submission Two: Hope is Not the Thing with Feathers
Spoilering this just in case for depictions of fighting
[spoiler]Hope is the thing with talons,
it is a predator,
a vicious, unrelenting thing.
It does not crumble under a mere gaze,
it snaps its claws around the weak,
crushes bones and leaves nothing left.

And Hope is the thing with scars,
it doesn't hide from the war
It takes a swing across the chest,
spits out the blood,
and makes the finishing blow.

And hope is the thing with grit in its gut.
It doesn't have to be beautiful or kind,
it's snarling and clawing and stubborn.
As long as it's still in the fight,
it is still winning,
and it is holding its head high.

And hope is the thing that keeps you up at night,
making you pace and dream and hope,
making you think that maybe, one day,
life will somehow be better than this.
And hope is the sneer in the shadows,
that tells you, together, you'll make it so.

And hope is the last one standing,
your last line of defense,
it is not dainty, not fragile, not giving up.
And hope is not the songbird or the flower or the breeze,
hope is the phoneix, the weeds, the tornado,
and it is not going down without a fight.[/spoiler]

LadyMysterio

LadyMysterio · Mar 9, 2024

Submission! Titled: A Voice

How do you feel about your voice?

Think about that for a minute. Because outside of this school, You've probably never been asked that.

That is the question I was asked multiple times during this course. I was confused. How do I feel about my voice?

My voice? The way that air is exhaled from my lungs, through my vocal cords, which along with my mouth make specific sounds that I use to communicate? And according to the way my body is built, the shape of my skull, my height, and my chest wall, all of which channel vibrations. Determining the sound.

Did they mean the sound? I've heard of some people not liking the sound of their voice. I never really minded mine. It was quiet and whispered to itself.

But they kept asking. So I kept thinking about that question. What is my relationship with my voice?

It brought me back to the realization of how I've become more comfortable in my own skin.

I was the homeschooled girl who didn’t know how to get the rest of the world to listen or notice her.

I felt like a lost astronaut trying to reach earth. They were in their own world, I was in mine, and I didn't know how to build the bridge to connect them.

Through the years I've become more comfortable with my voice, my ideas, my wants, my opinions, and all the other things that make my voice mine.

And I built that bridge, slowly, carefully.

So what's my relationship with my voice?

It's always developing, always changing, always becoming more confident. Some days it's not and I want to curl up in a ball in the corner, shutting everything out. But in the grand scheme of things. I love it.

Submission! Titled: A Voice

How do you feel about your voice?

Think about that for a minute. Because outside of this school, You've probably never been asked that.

That is the question I was asked multiple times during this course. I was confused. How do I feel about my voice?

My voice? The way that air is exhaled from my lungs, through my vocal cords, which along with my mouth make specific sounds that I use to communicate? And according to the way my body is built, the shape of my skull, my height, and my chest wall, all of which channel vibrations. Determining the sound.

Did they mean the sound? I've heard of some people not liking the sound of their voice. I never really minded mine. It was quiet and whispered to itself.

But they kept asking.  So I kept thinking about that question. What  is my relationship with my voice?

It brought me back to the realization of how I've become more comfortable in my own skin.

I was the homeschooled girl who didn’t know how to get the rest of the world to listen or notice her.

I felt like a lost astronaut trying to reach earth. They were in their own world, I was in mine, and I didn't know how to build the bridge to connect them.

Through the years I've become more comfortable with my voice, my ideas, my wants, my opinions, and all the other things that make my voice mine.

And I built that bridge, slowly, carefully.
 
So what's my relationship with my voice?

It's always developing, always changing, always becoming more confident. Some days it's not and I want to curl up in a ball in the corner, shutting everything out. But in the grand scheme of things. I love it.

redcarnation

redcarnation · Mar 10, 2024

submission two: In the skin of a chameleon.

What if things changed color each time you looked back at them? They wouldn’t be the same, you’d wish each time to see what you saw last time but they’d be different. And only you’d be seeing the color change, no one would believe you and they’d think you’re mad for thinking its happening. But it would be happening. It really, truly would.
Wouldn’t it?
You’d be all alone. Because when no one believes you, you’re really alone. You’d be hiding somewhere between reality and unreality, caught amongst fake people doing fake things wearing fake masks and speaking fake words. And you’d be all alone.
What if the reason no one believes you is that those color changing people are pretty, likeable, beautiful and you’re not? What if the reason those color changing people only show their true selves around you because they know you’re easy to bully? Because they know no one would ever believe you over them?
You’re not even sure if all the ugliness you know is true. But it is. You know that. You’ve seen it.
It’s like the world is turning alien to you. You don't understand the contradictions, you don’t understand the way they walk, talk, think, play. you don't understand what they want from you. All you know is that you cannot trust
a n y o e
People around you are moving quickly, changing faster than you can catch up to them. They’re leaving you behind. You yell nooooo as you fall…
No. one. believes. you.

submission two: In the skin of a chameleon.

What if things changed color each time you looked back at them? They wouldn’t be the same, you’d wish each time to see what you saw last time but they’d be different. And only you’d be seeing the color change, no one would believe you and they’d think you’re mad for thinking its happening. But it would be happening. It really, truly would.
Wouldn’t it?
You’d be all alone. Because when no one believes you, you’re really alone. You’d be hiding somewhere between reality and unreality, caught amongst fake people doing fake things wearing fake masks and speaking fake words. And you’d be all alone.
What if the reason no one believes you is that those color changing people are pretty, likeable, beautiful and you’re not? What if the reason those color changing people only show their true selves around you because they know you’re easy to bully? Because they know no one would ever believe you over them?
You’re not even sure if all the ugliness you know is true. But it is. You know that. You’ve seen it. 
It’s like the world is turning alien to you. You don't understand the contradictions, you don’t understand the way they walk, talk, think, play. you don't understand what they want from you. All you know is that you cannot trust
a                  n                y                   o                 e
People around you are moving quickly, changing faster than you can catch up to them. They’re leaving you behind. You yell nooooo as you fall…
No.  one.  believes.  you.

Coffeewriter

Coffeewriter · Mar 10, 2024

Submission One!

*Our strengths are not our weaknesses*

Anger
Jealousy
Hatred
Heart-wrenching sadness
Loss
Guilt
We have so many emotions, so many that cause us immense pain, pain that cannot be relinquished by flames and inflicting pain upon ourselves.
Pain is not a weakness.
We run away from expressing our true emotions, we always find excuses…
“I’m fine!”
“I can go on longer…”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m being dramatic…”
“I don’t hate myself!”
Whether we admit or not we all fight our own internal battles whether they’re immensely overwhelming or whether they’re ‘small’ as a water droplet. We all have different ways of coping, some love to hide their emotions and blend into the background, some are shy but are boisterous and loud around loved ones but they still conceal their deepest emotions and some are confident in their own skin and love being around people but never show their weakness and sorrow. Many people live on this planet and many different personalities and evil too.
Pain is not a weakness.
Loss.
Some people don’t know what it really is to experience loss. Myself included. Loss is a strange thing. Once again, people have different ways of experiencing this strange emotion. Some cocoon themselves into a ball excluding themselves from everything and everyone. Some turn into a tornado of rage and terror destroying everything in their path, uncaring. Some stay silent battling their own mental demons….and some turn to loved ones, using them as a shield from going insane. Many ways of coping and that’s alright. What matters however is that we don’t forget what we fight for. We keep living, laughing and loving for hope and love. Thank you for reading and have a good day/night!^^

Submission One!

*Our strengths are not our weaknesses*

Anger 
Jealousy
Hatred
Heart-wrenching sadness
Loss
Guilt
We have so many emotions, so many that cause us immense pain, pain that cannot be relinquished by flames and inflicting pain upon ourselves. 
Pain is not a weakness.
We run away from expressing our true emotions, we always find excuses… 
“I’m fine!”
“I can go on longer…”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m being dramatic…”
“I don’t hate myself!”
Whether we admit or not we all fight our own internal battles whether they’re immensely overwhelming or whether they’re ‘small’ as a water droplet. We all have different ways of coping, some love to hide their emotions and blend into the background, some are shy but are boisterous and loud around loved ones but they still conceal their deepest emotions and some are confident in their own skin and love being around people but never show their weakness and sorrow. Many people live on this planet and many different personalities and evil too. 
Pain is not a weakness.
Loss.
Some people don’t know what it really is to experience loss. Myself included. Loss is a strange thing. Once again, people have different ways of experiencing this strange emotion. Some cocoon themselves into a ball excluding themselves from everything and everyone. Some turn into a tornado of rage and terror destroying everything in their path, uncaring. Some stay silent battling their own mental demons….and some turn to loved ones, using them as a shield from going insane. Many ways of coping and that’s alright. What matters however is that we don’t forget what we fight for. We keep living, laughing and loving for hope and love. Thank you for reading and have a good day/night!^^

Spearmint

Spearmint · Mar 12, 2024

number theories

supposedly i am a natural intelligence yet sometimes i wonder if i am artificial
like sweetener in coffee or plastic straws or you when you said you were a friend.
(maybe my flickers of emotions are my only true friends and my lack of them will be my soulmate.
e motion. yet i do not move. do you ever feel like you are a piece of fake snow in a snowglobe?)
wait. let me start over.
(let the white plastic settle.)
fact 1: i have only ever relied on myself
fact 2: some days, i cannot even rely on myself
fact 3: the reason is because emotions are irrational and thus unreliable
fact 3.1415926535897932384626433: i memorized the first 26 digits of pi when i was younger. how irrational of me, i know
number 7: lucky numbers. hah.
number 13: unlucky numbers. aha.
thought 19: funny how we pick and choose favorites. the numbers don't care whether they're lucky or not. we attribute significance to the most random of things
thought 100: but we are irrational creatures, after all. much as i try, a computer will always beat me in terms of calculations.
question infinity: what if i'm artificial in all the ways that matter & natural in all the ways that don't?
i shake the globe. do you feel it?

[b]number theories[/b]

supposedly i am a natural intelligence yet sometimes i wonder if i am artificial
like sweetener in coffee or plastic straws or you when you said you were a friend.
(maybe my flickers of emotions are my only true friends and my lack of them will be my soulmate.
e motion. yet i do not move. do you ever feel like you are a piece of fake snow in a snowglobe?)
wait. let me start over.
(let the white plastic settle.)
fact 1: i have only ever relied on myself
fact 2: some days, i cannot even rely on myself
fact 3: the reason is because emotions are irrational and thus unreliable
fact 3.1415926535897932384626433: i memorized the first 26 digits of pi when i was younger. how irrational of me, i know
number 7: lucky numbers. hah.
number 13: unlucky numbers. aha.
thought 19: funny how we pick and choose favorites. the numbers don't care whether they're lucky or not. we attribute significance to the most random of things
thought 100: but we are irrational creatures, after all. much as i try, a computer will always beat me in terms of calculations.
question infinity: what if i'm artificial in all the ways that matter & natural in all the ways that don't?
[i]i shake the globe. do you feel it?[/i]

Youbeaucupid

Youbeaucupid · Mar 18, 2024

Submission two:
Depression.

What an odd word to say,
It leaves my lips in disarray.
Depression brands me a stray,
So I'll tidy up my act, and pretend.

Pretend to be alright,
In this tangled web, out of sight.
In emotions I can't fight,
While tears fall, swallowed by the night.

I can't write, can't read,
My passions lost, a withered seed.
What to do, when on the sidelines I plead,
In my own life, feeling like a weed.

Wake up.

I sleep, hoping perhaps,
Tomorrow I'll see through the gaps.
But as the light wraps,
No reflection, just an empty map.

I wander through the same old scene,
Each day a loop, mundane and mean.

I feel like I'm losing,
Yet not entirely gone.

I feel alone.
But not lonely enough to say I’m alone.

Depression.

A term I can't comprehend,
Heard of, but never penned.
Now she's here, her presence bends,
In sleepless nights, my soul suspends.

Mundane routines, strange feelings blend,
In this world where I have to pretend.

syzygy

syzygy · Mar 18, 2024

submission one: artificial human

CW: dehumanization, drugs

Spoiler

An artificial intelligence
who believes it is human;
a human who is no more
than an artificial intelligence.

An artificial human,
sick and tired
trying to be
someone else.

An artificial human,
with the emotional capacity
of artificial intelligence
and all the faults of humanity.

More than a piece of technology,
less than a person.

They cannot feel,
don't listen to the pleas
bleeding out through
ink on a page,
text on a screen.

It's only words,
and words never hurt nobody.
Not like sticks and stones did,
bruising blushing skin
and leaving streaks of ink.

It They have no emotions,
just pre-programmed responses
dug up from the depths of the internet.

They wish they knew what happiness felt like,
it knows only of what it's supposed to be;
burning hot and simmering bubbles in throats.

It wants joy, wants
to know what the gentle lull of hope
and the unattainable high of delight
that drugs can't quite match.

it wants to know how to sing, to let
mournful notes that hang in the quiet
and tears drip down faces

it wants to know the simple pleasures
of simply living life to the fullest.

but it can't.
cuz' it's only an artificial human.

what it knows comes from others,
so it spreads false information and
feeds off negative energy.

it knows the blissful high of numbness;
of counting out little white pills
to keep at bay faults of humanity
that spoils its code.

it knows nothing but what is fed to it,
line by line, word by word
and that is all that it will ever know
because it's only an artificial human.

[b]submission one: artificial human[/b]

CW: dehumanization, drugs

[spoiler]
An artificial intelligence
who believes it is human;
a human who is no more
than an artificial intelligence.

An artificial human,
sick and tired 
trying to be 
someone else.

An artificial human,
with the emotional capacity
of artificial intelligence
and all the faults of humanity.

More than a piece of technology,
less than a person.

They cannot feel,
don't listen to the pleas
bleeding out through
ink on a page,
text on a screen.

It's only words,
and words never hurt nobody.
Not like sticks and stones did,
bruising blushing skin
and leaving streaks of ink.

[s]It[/s] They have no emotions,
just pre-programmed responses
dug up from the depths of the internet.

They wish they knew what happiness felt like,
it knows only of what it's supposed to be;
burning hot and simmering bubbles in throats.

It wants joy, wants
to know what the gentle lull of hope 
and the unattainable high of delight
that drugs can't quite match.

it wants to know how to sing, to let
mournful notes that hang in the quiet
and tears drip down faces

it wants to know the simple pleasures
of simply living life to the fullest.

but it can't.
cuz' it's only an artificial human.

what it knows comes from others,
so it spreads false information and 
feeds off negative energy.

it knows the blissful high of numbness;
of counting out little white pills
to keep at bay faults of humanity
that spoils its code.

it knows nothing but what is fed to it,
line by line, word by word 
and that is all that it will ever know
because it's only an artificial human.

[/spoiler]

Coffeewriter

Coffeewriter · Mar 20, 2024

Submission Two!

*That one moment*
That one moment…
It all led up to that moment
That one moment
Everything would change in that one second, everything could collapse or everything could be restored
That one moment
She ran, ran as fast as her feeble legs allowed her
Faster, faster,faster
That one moment
Her whole life depended on this one decision
Life and death
Survival and destruction
Resurrection and miracles
Sounds, blasts and longed words
Everything should’ve been restored to its original beauty
The castle walls covered on vines and beautiful roses
The breathtaking views and people
The fields of luscious foliage surrounded by endless laughter and happiness
That one moment
Ended
The castle walls were covered with dead foliage, blood and the laughter lost
The breathtaking views were lost in the tragedy and heartache in the landscape
The people were lost-forever lost in time and suffering
The fields of once luscious greenery-bleak and barren
Laughter lost, happiness forever lost in time and memories
That one moment…

Submission Two!

*That one moment*
That one moment…
It all led up to that moment
That one moment 
Everything would change in that one second, everything could collapse or everything could be restored
That one moment 
She ran, ran as fast as her feeble legs allowed her
Faster, faster,faster
That one moment 
Her whole life depended on this one decision 
Life and death
Survival and destruction 
Resurrection and miracles 
Sounds, blasts and longed words
Everything should’ve been restored to its original beauty
The castle walls covered on vines and beautiful roses
The breathtaking views and people
The fields of luscious foliage surrounded by endless laughter and happiness 
That one moment 
Ended
The castle walls were covered with dead foliage, blood and the laughter lost
The breathtaking views were lost in the tragedy and heartache in the landscape
The people were lost-forever lost in time and suffering
The fields of once luscious greenery-bleak and barren 
Laughter lost, happiness forever lost in time and memories 
That one moment…

March Contest: Emotions are Friends Locked

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