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you made tiny stars
dance at the corners
of my darkened eyes
and then i realised
i wanted those stars
to grow ever brighter

visibility36

stars by attributionalternate_emailstygianoia

posted 4 weeks ago, edited 4 weeks ago

On seeing stars.

poem poetry writing

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privilege vs. allowanceit is such a kindnessto allow somebody to beexactly as they arei am so very sorrythat you were never handed it and thank youfor the allowanceof myselfi have neverhad the privilege before

pride monththe pharmacy down the streethas a sign on its sliding doorit says ‘everyone is welcome’though it wasn’t there before with playful, blocky textdecorated in progressive coloursit certainly does not feel this waythough, maybe it does to others? because he still walks to the countertugging, pulling at his baggy shirthe asks for the birth control quietlyafraid it might get him hurt it still says ‘feminine paper’in the aisle near the cashiernot period nor menstrualbecause god forbid the children hear all the congratulatory cards and baby clothesare pink for girls and blue for boysas if a child has the foresight, the freedomto question their parents’ choice the flags and celebratory hatsare covered in logos of sterilised whiteas companies attempt to ownthe struggle for our human rights on being trans, though i can’t speak to thati can certainly criticize, when a bar is set this lowwhen all he’s ever felt the need to saywas an apology for being so i do not know if i believe youdespite the sign on your front door… isn’t it just a performance for the customersso that they’ll give you more?

fighteryour way is not of painyour destiny not ordainedstand up, brave warriorbrush the dust from your shouldersand keep fighting

rebellionevery time i smilelaugh, rejoice, singevery time i am given kindnessand every time i am smiled ati win, over and over and overfor there is no greater rebellionthan my existence

faithfulfor as rustedand as wornas i ami will foreverbe your sword

homefallen out of the midnight skya deep-end drop into starlit seascoming down to dusted earthin a tragic, yet brilliant blaze of glorypast millions of strings of lightyears of luminescence awayhe finds home

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Always Gold, Part 1A sound. Frantically, the Geode within pecked and harried at the shell surrounding him, instinct driving him to push against the rough lining. It yielded slightly, the crack above him widening by the tiniest margin, but still held steadfast. Frustration and desperation grew in equal measure, fear clutching at the Geode’s rapidly beating heart. Oxygen, though he didn’t know that it was, ran out fast and he understood that to be dangerous. Another sound, closer. Chirping and shuddering, the Geode curled up his stumpy limbs together, gathering all of his dwindling energy. With a mighty shove, the Geode burst outward, coiled tail springing out and slamming into the shell. The crack suddenly exploded through the Geode’s shell, shearing it clean in two and allowing the now-hatched Geode to flop out onto the cavern floor. The shell lay split and motionless, lined with golden crystals that sparkled. Above him, a dimmed lantern crackled with a faint heat, casting a dull glow into the gloom. His eyes adjusted to the new light slowly, even painfully despite how low it was. The cavern seemed to stretch out and above him for miles, the walls eventually vanishing into darkness he couldn’t see beyond. The Geode shivered as a chill wind settled onto his fur, and he crouched low, instincts screaming at him of danger. “Hello?” From just beyond the lantern’s circle, a broad head poked out of the darkness, eyes lighting up with recognition. The Geode barely had time to understand what he was looking at before the larger Vespire rushed him, towering over him by several heads. The Vespire circled around him a few times, sniffing at him and nudging him with a snout much larger than the Geode’s body. “Hey, look at you, little buddy! You got mom’s whiskers!” The Vespire curled down around him, long fur draping over the Geode and instantly warming him up. The Geode chirped and moved in closer, his wide eyes trying to take in all the details. It overwhelmed him, but he recognized one thing: the Vespire’s tail coiled in a corkscrew, just like his own. “Don’t worry, little bro!” Scurlock said, his voice pitching up. “Mom and dad will be here soon.”

Ambush!Scurlock’s eyes darted back and forth, searching through the pine trees surrounding the carriage he and the other trainees were protecting. The dusk sky lit up orange before dying into an indigo at the horizon, forcing the trees to cast long shadows that stretched out over their forms. His ears perked up at the sound of something crunching- was it pine needles on the forest floor? He stopped and peered closer, tracing the outline of every tree to look for abnormalities, yet the pines gave up no sign of an unwanted intruder. The crunch didn’t repeat itself, leaving only the sound of the carriage’s wheels turning and creaking. “Ambush!” A fellow trainee in the front screeched as they were jumped, a form darting forward to kick out their legs. Scurlock bolted to go help his teammate, but another Vespire intercepted him, smashing into his shoulder at full force. He instinctively tightened his muscles and dug his claws into the dirt, holding steadfast as the attacker bounced off his shoulder. “Uh, this might have been a bad target! He’s like, three times my size-” Scurlock whirled around on the attacker, confused as the Vespire seemed to be talking to nobody in particular. The Vespire bore a red coat with a black mane like Scurlock’s, though his chest shone a bright white. Golden claws tipped his feet, and a unicorn horn crowned his forehead. Even as the attacker crouched low in preparation to spring, his face seemed uncertain, eyes shifting uneasily. “Not on my watch!” Scurlock yelled, slamming one massive paw down in front of the attacker. The Vespire lept back in response, then sprang forward, using Scurlock’s leg as leverage to rush up and onto his back. His claws ripped and tore at the fur there, digging just a little too deep and lacerating Scurlock’s skin. Scurlock screeched at the pain, but his fury overrode whatever he was feeling. With a ferocious roar, he bucked, tail tip swinging in a wide arc to connect squarely with his opponent’s jaw. “Ye-ouch! I told you he’s too much for us!” “Shut it, you!” Scurlock whipped to the side, using the momentum of his weight to hurl the attacker off of him. His opponent crashed into the forest floor and rolled back onto his feet, his three tails lashing in unison. Scurlock stepped forward, black and yellow pneumir spouting from his mouth and ears. His attacker growled back at him but held his ground, both Vespires staring each other down. “STOP!” The tension in the air shattered as their Captain shouted and jumped between them, snapping both of them out of the bloodlust. Scurlock loosened his shoulders and coughed, while his opponent cowered at the shouting. That’s hardly the Vespire that was trying to flay my back two seconds ago! “This was a practice scenario, need I remind you!” the Captain scolded, looking at both of them with fury. “I expect better composure from you, Scurlock, and you need to control yourself, Eternity.” “Ah- I’m sorry, I don’t know what overcame me,” Scurlock muttered, ears flattening as he felt his cheeks flush and warm. “I-I’ll do better next time,” Eternity said, avoiding both the Captain and Scurlock’s eye. “Good,” the Captain growled. “Now go get checked out at the infirmary for any injuries, and then I want twenty laps around the lake from both of you!”

InspirationWhy do we write, scribbling ink onto paper?Why do we do it now instead of later?Why indeed do we do so many things in life,Instead of facing head on its many strifes? For some, these stanzas and rhymes help a bit.They make us think and let us control it.Illusions of stability made by turning thoughts into words,Otherwise, would any of us even be heard? Flowing,Freeform,Uniquelystructured, Or perhaps evenA short and simple haikuPacked with a large punch. So many different types await the creative mind.Some may choose to let them rhyme entwined,Or to let them fall flat without a twin. There is no wrong way to write,Nor is there a wrong reason,But to ignore it at all,Commits against yourself treason. Let the creative juices flow freely,Let them go how they might.However your poem turns out,Just make sureit feelsright. trophy

WingmanThe crowd chattered relentlessly around Scurlock and Bryon, though it did part easily for Scurlock’s massive form. The two brothers strode side by side, enjoying the mild spring weather during some much-needed time off from their respective jobs. With the carnival in town, they had decided to pay it a visit together, taking in the colorful tents and numerous craft stalls. Bryon, it seemed, had another agenda in mind. “So when are you going to begin courting somespire?” Scurlock did a double take, frowning. “You know I don’t do well with all that… romance stuff,” he said, shrugging. “Besides, the Academy keeps me busy. I don’t have time for that.” “Eh? Weren’t you the one going on about family lines and noble obligations the other day?” “I didn’t mean both of us have to find someone! Just… one of us, and you’re the one who likes to attend social gatherings and parties and all that stuff.” Bryon scoffed. “Come on, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye. What about Bramble? He’s into all the gym stuff like you. Or Sadine, they’ve been eyeing you pretty blatantly the last two times you were in the same room. Or-” “I said no, Bry!” Scurlock growled, rage suddenly roiling in his chest and forcing the glowing markings of his furnace to ignite and spark with energy. “I don’t want to pursue any of that romantic junk. Just because you want to doesn’t mean I have to. Now drop it.” Bryon raised an eyebrow, taking one step back at the display of anger. “I didn’t realize how strongly you felt about this.” “Neither did I,” Scurlock admitted, taking a deep breath to calm his furnace. “Sorry. Can we move on to something else?”