I hope
When the time comes And your faith is shaken That you are brave That you are kind And that you are not alone. I am terrible at working on this short story. GAH. *stress intensifies* -Atlas
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I scatter my mistakes behind me
Like fallen stars To light the road For those who follow. Shortest. Poem. EVER. -Atlas This is the story
Of how I became Nothing At all I was proud of my journey The choices that I'd made Until you listed all the things you liked about me In the past tense Listen. I know that promises are just words That are only true when you believe in them But there is no other way to tell you That if you ever need me I Will Be There. Look at all these poems (they're so short now that I'm rereading them) -Atlas The world does not believe in mercy.
The world will tear your heart out And kill you. It owes you nothing. For all the beauty it holds It is not obligated to be kind Or just. The world is not merciful. But you can be. And even though I knew the ending From the very beginning It did not hurt Any less Current philosophy: if I write a hundred poems, theoretically at least one of them is going to be worth reading. Yee haw. -Atlas And that morning
The sun poured a thousand colors into the sky As if to say 'Welcome home.' i hope you learn to laugh at yourself kindly and with truth otherwise the path ahead will be arduous and is often walked alone. What haha I'm totally not avoiding writing more of the short story what are you talking about -Atlas Something was poking you in the side. You mumbled something incoherent and rolled over.
"Roxy?" "Go 'way." "Roxy, small white flakes are coming from the sky. What should I do?" You cracked an eye open. It was way too early for this. (it's so cliche aargh) Human is tentatively named Roxy Alien is tentatively named Lute Lute is maybe a scholar/scout sent to Roxy's family to learn about earth while a tentative treaty is signed (?) Can shapeshifter but the process is very painful so he tries to avoid it whenever possible (maintaining aging would be impractical & excruciating) Aliens are not immortal but live for several hundred years Aliens do not like the cold at all (their planet is warmer than ours) Lute - kind of a dork - doesn't talk about his past - doesn't like the cold - tall - sent to learn about earth--and, in case diplomacy fails, relay information about weaknesses Earth might have - likes romcoms - curious & excitable - rambles - really likes cats Roxy - reads a lot - sarcasm & nihilism - actually agender but doesn't realize it for a while - attention/affection starved - lonely - not a morning person - patient - good with kids - coffee idk (everything could change but it's good to brainstorm) Hey! I actually worked on the story. Even it if was just a teeny bit. I think that this story's a bit too long to finish by the end of the month, but I'll try my best. (This is all really new to me haha) -Atlas 'like colorful lighting'
My thoughts are elegant and smooth until I say them out loud. The story is finished until I write it down. I have my words until I need them And then they are clunky Broken Made of plastic and staccato silences. There are holes in my thoughts that I cannot see Until I stumble over them Trying to keep up with myself. Welp. I struggled with this poem (you can probably tell. I tend to only write about not being able to write when I'm really having trouble putting thoughts into words. Which is often, now that I think about it.) -Atlas There was not a goodbye.
The world shifted Softly Yet unmistakably Moving from one quiet breath To the next. I am really bad at this whole 'working on the short story' thing -Atlas I am beginning to realize
That confidence And certainty Are not the same thing. Certainty is blindness To the flaws in myself or my ideas That I don't want to see While confidence is a quiet strength that comes from seeing And trusting in myself Not to always to the right thing But at least to try And to fix my mistakes when I can. Sometimes it's easier to write thoughts out in poems. My thoughts aren't very linear if I really think about them--they tend to be a mix of words, emotions, memories, and sudden tangents. So while poems are definitely better suited to capturing my thoughts, it's a struggle to make them coherent sometimes. (You've probably noticed.) -Atlas Story Arcs
- 'someone else' - romance is thing - fear of death - accepting death - adapting to human life - friendship/growing trust - letting go of past - embracing one's identity (maybe too may arcs for a 'short' story haha) I think it is important For me to remember That despite my fear Of living a life of regret, When I look back I am okay with And maybe even proud of The choices that I've made And the life that I have lived. Story plotting stuff and a poem (woo) -Atlas |
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