the world is on fire: and maybe it’s with the scar that reminds | #SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #10


Hi again!

I’m a few weeks late with this post after a lengthy amount of procrastination and not using my time wisely–which, honestly sounds like a Me Problem, ahahha.

But, I’m here now and we’re back with weekly poems. So this was written as entry #10 in the challenge from July 24th 2020. I hope that you enjoy it because this was one I really remembered and was quite proud of! I even mentioned it to my friend Jirah in my last full post for the challenge, which I will include a link to below. Thanks for reading!!! ❤


THE RULES

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Check out Entry #8 here and the Life Update that took place instead of Entry #9. (Which would have occurred the week of July 12th – 18th) 😀

Now, without further ado…..


the world is on fire:

and maybe it’s with the scar that reminds

 

Trigger Warning: metaphorical self-harm, gun violence (USA), pandemic COVID-19

paper to pen

clacking fingers to

fading keys

 

sunlight interwoven

with moonlight.

 

dancing in the breeze,

an owl hoots,

wondering how many licks

gets to the center

of a Tootsie pop.

 

music filters through the air,

hanging in the invisible

structure,

carrying to hairs in the ear

that distribute sound

and a brain that works

to identify the garbled mess

into that of something-ness.

 

wounds lay bare,

arms heavy with the

weight of metal holders

and casket bearing bullets.

 

waiting for another

one to crack.

waiting for another

one to slip through the surface.

how many this time?

gun violence

a normal occurrence,

when it shouldn’t be.

 

it shouldn’t be.

 

pandemonium:

causing dry mouths

and hacking coughs.

 

quarantine, they say,

stay at home,

but they don’t.

not all.

 

some go out

and some face the world

without a shield

and call themselves heroes,

proclaiming that the world

is safe

when it’s neither

all safe

or

all destructive.

 

it’s somewhere in the middle.

 

life is a series of shades of grey.

 

it cannot be defined by such

strict parameters.

 

but while those who go out

to the world with confidence

in their chest that

they’re doing the “right” thing,

more people get exposed,

some who cannot handle that

exposure,

and so death rates and infection rates

soar.

 

i grow weary with these realizations,

shoulders aching from the pressure.

 

i grow weary with these predicaments.

 

the world keeps turning,

the earth revolving–

another shot fired,

was it intentional or accidental?

self inflicted?

or buried into the flesh of a

person who was taken

far too soon?

 

i sit back,

i watch.

 

and i type these words,

not contributing to anything,

only in the smallest senses.

 

the world is on fire.

 

it is.

 

and somehow,

the burns

don’t sting quite so bad as before.

 

maybe it’s with the scar

that reminds

that healing has taken place

after all.

 

healing has taken place,

after all.


Technical aspects:

Written and edited: 7/24/2020

Mood Music: Multiple (unspecified)


About the Poem: Was going to say the “scar remains” but reminds showed up instead and so I went with it. Kinda like a stream of consciousness type poem and very helpful for me to have written. I didn’t know I was feeling or thinking some of these things. This piece also reminds me of a beautiful poem my friend on deviantART made here about the Parkland shooting (which I’m now writing poetry this year like them, I don’t capitalize very much these past few entries, which is very interesting to me). I’m actually really proud and happy with this piece. I wanted to do some writing and other artsy activities but didn’t want to reread old fanfic chapters in case it broke the writing vibes (I haven’t had any in the last two weeks as of the third full week in July) so this was refreshing and very helpful. I hope that you enjoyed it! Deciding on a title was the hardest part! I really wanted to showcase that scar line so I’m pretty happy that this is where it wound up.

So, that’s it for this post! Thank you so much for stopping by, reading and if you would be ever so kind as to leave me a thought or two, I’d love to reply to them! 😀

Until a couple days from now.

xxx

❤ ❤ ❤

Music for typing this post: “People Like Us” by Kelly Clarkson (and the inevitable dance moves sitting down can provide) 🙂

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #6: Humanity is Measured Not in Hate But in Kindness


Hi again.

When you find this post, I will have scheduled it the day before. Or, the evening before, more so. Regardless, here is the sixth entry into this Poetry Challenge that I’ve made for myself.

Enjoy!

PS Here is last “week’s” post.


What are the RULES?

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Humanity is Measured Not in Hate But in Kindness

it was somewhere

along the way

that they

didn’t

have the heart

to say ‘No.’

it was some place

along the trail

that they

didn’t

have the strength to

bark back ‘Please.’

it was in some manner

where the sun

sparkled through the trees

that they struggled

with the courage

resting in their breast

to say “Stop.”

there was something in the way

that the moonlight

glittered on the ocean front

that made their experience

quantify into thousands of

insects’ wings fluttering up

into a cacophony of sound,

the air vibrating with their pressure,

the breath of life that leaked

from their open mouth

spun into kaleidoscopes as they

shouted from the ground,

“Let me free!”

the sticky, black goo

that rose from the tarmac

threatened to take their

existence from them,

but they were strong,

they were holding on tight,

and they never backed down,

grumbling out instead,

“Try to take me,

And you’ll fail.”

The goo transformed,

turning to a face that

they recognized

as painful,

but still they reiterated,

“Try to scare me,

And you won’t win.”

Their expression was harder now,

softer in some respects,

and their blue eyes flashed

with purpose.

“Try to take me,” they uttered with

a voice as strong as Plexiglas.

“I’d like to see you try.”

The goo changed again,

curling its tendrils around their legs,

legs rooted to the ground in a

steadfast position.

The goo curled them into a tight hug,

but they weren’t afraid any longer,

instead they smirked and said,

“Is that the best you’ve got?”

The goo hissed and moved to strangle them,

and they laughed instead,

pulling away easily and

humming to themselves,

“Your weakness baffles me.”

They narrowed their eyes at the

monstrosity before them.

“You’ve fought wars

and sought out pain,

yet here you are,

incapable of taking me down.

Do you know why?”

The intensity sparked further in their eyes,

just as they began to remove their arms,

stretching the goo’s material

as it cried out in discomfort.

“Because I am Loved.

Because I am Worthy.

Because I am Arose in Purpose.

Because I am Faith.

Because I am More.

More than you’ll ever be,

And when I struggle for breath,

When I fade in the dying light,

I’ll still be Strong,

I’ll still know my Worth,

Because unlike you,

I don’t need to tear people

Down in order to shine brighter.”

They grasped the creature’s limbs

in tight, closed fists.

“You can come back for me,

And you will,

But I’ll win again,

Because I have strength,

I have power,

I have unlimited potential

Compared to you.”

They tilted their head slightly,

the intensity in their stare never

wavering.

“But I won’t kill you,

I won’t destroy you.

Because I know what that’s like too.

So I will help you,

I will uplift you,

And I will heal you,

Because that is what you need.

And if you refuse to change,

If you refuse to become better,

Then I will let you go.

Because even you deserve not to be

Hindered.

Even you deserve freedom.”

The ghost of a smile

Lit up their features as they

Pushed down the creature,

Back into its small pocket

Upon the floor.

“It takes more love to treat

Those who crave it,

But aren’t aware of it,

Than it does to easily

Spill apart hate.”

They dusted off their palms,

The ashy hue left upon their

Fingerprints

And as they did so,

As they did,

Their spirit sparkled and they said

Lowly,

“I’ll trust in you,

Even when you don’t in me.

Because that’s the biggest

Difference between us:

You hate, you destroy, you crave power

and I am loved, I create and I

already exist powerfully.”

They slid a lone finger down the side

Of the aching creature’s face,

“And all you needed was the same.

And I’m sorry you didn’t receive it.

For I am here if you change your mind,

But tearing down others to

Build yourself up,

Is not the way.”

They sighed, lightly.

“Maybe one day you will see that.

For now, I will hold onto it for you.”

They began to walk away, but not before

Saying over their shoulder,

“I’ll be back for you at a later date,

And I will hope for you

And dream for you,

What you never dared to dream for yourself.

Rest easy, my dear.”

A torched piece of parchment

Flew free from their hand

And fell down near the shadow’s

Skin,

Etched upon its surface were the words:

Spreading kindness in a world of hate

Lifts all souls that deserve no such fate.

For humanity is measured not in which

All there is light, but rather when there exists much fight.

And no matter what cost,

What they engender must be no less than crossed.

For it is not only how a person acts within a crowd,

But the way they act alone and proud.

Forgiveness is a force that can only be decided

By those at war,

Who crave more,

Who desire a roar.

And at the end of the night,

They can only choose to shine bright.

Because where there is dark in light,

There is light in night,

And they, too, shall never lose sight.

Technical Aspects of the Poem:

Written and Edited: 6/26/2020

Mood Music: “Where the Shadow Ends” by BANNERS ft. Young Bombs


About the Poem: Kinda thinking of Kill Monger and T’Challa in “Black Panther” (2018) along with other related types of events occurring in the world and just having a creative spirit birthed this poem. I’m not sure if it even makes much sense (and I’ve tried my best rewriting/rewording some parts to make more sense, but I still can’t tell ahaha) but it’s what I got for this week and so that will have to be enough. Also, I’ve been doing a lot more lower cased poetry which isn’t something that I would do a lot of in the past, just an interesting thing. I tried to keep the change when our narrator they started talking more and their confidence grew and so the stylistic choices changed as well to match that. But yeah, let me know what you think!! Thank you so much for reading and feel free to share this work along with my others! Stay safe. xxx

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #5: Rooted in Recuperation| [LATE POST]


Hi again!

I apologize for the lack of posting on here the last two weeks and not getting up a proper post explaining myself even now. I’ve been trying to write a post called “Off the Map” to explain my absence and what I’ve been up to (including a mini haul) but it just sat open in a tab on my laptop for an entire week and I couldn’t bring myself the motivation or inspiration or attention span to properly write it, edit it and then upload it. So, here we are.

I also forgot about this weekly poetry challenge until I remembered it going into work on Saturday which was particularly disorienting and unfair. I was able to write THIS post during my shift but I definitely would have preferred to have done it earlier in the week and not have missed an entire week’s worth of content.

But alas, here it is…. I hope you enjoy it as it was a bit of a vent piece with some of my emotions and also a creative endeavor towards the middle and end. Also, here are the rules for this challenge REAL quick:


What are the RULES?

This is the late fifth entry in my #SummerComer #PoetryChallenge launching from the end of May 2020 to the beginning of September 2020. More rules include:

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Let me know down below in a comment or on my other social media what you thought of this poem and its message!! Or if you’d like to see a particular theme, prompt or character name/location, leave that in the comments too! I will soon be writing up the post and scheduling it for tomorrow for the sixth week of Summer Comer (which I just wrote freshly a few moments ago). Also if you want to see the 4th week’s entry: here it is.

Thank you so much for reading and see down below for both the poem and any notes regarding it. I plan to be blogging again soon and giving you guys a proper update on my life and the happenings going on behind the scenes. Check out my Youtube channel if you want to see what I’m getting up to these past two weeks of immense creativity!! Sending you all the best. xxx


Rooted in Recuperation

basked in

the aftermath,

he follows

 

his spirit

trodden

and his psyche

unraveling

 

with resignation

he sighs:

 

it had been a long day.

 

and he grew tired.

sometimes it was just

how he had awaken

and other times from

precipitating events.

 

today he had grown older,

but feeling none the wiser.

 

it happened,

like this,

sometimes.

 

all he could do

was muster up

his strength

and burrow hope

deep within his bones,

treating himself like the

large, deep oak tree’s roots

that had planted itself

into his memories

as a young child.

 

oh, how he had climbed

its branches–

clambering over the bark,

sneakers losing grip

and trails of the tree’s flesh

skidding off and onto his

caramel skin.

 

he had loved that tree—

loved it more than his own

dysfunctional family.

 

but that’s what they were

at the end of the day:

family.

 

family had its misgivings,

family had its problems

and his had had a few share

of them,

but in the end

he loved them

he had grown with them

and they had learned

to do the same for him.

 

so as he sat

on the edge of

his white mattress,

the covers stripped away

as if he had been

shielding himself from

the dark tendrils

of the world,

he closed his eyes

and the sky that laid behind them.

they filled with pain and

a nagging sense of wonder,

a plethora of encouragement

and a passion

so deep that he wanted–

needed–

to try again tomorrow.

it curled into him tightly,

snuggling into his shoulders

and breathing a new sense of

purpose to his lungs.

so much so that

when the moon fell from

the sky and the sun

rose again,

he tried and tried all over

restarting from where he was

until one day,

he was certain of it,

he’d make things right.

Technical aspects of the poem:

Written and Edited: 6/20/2020


About the Poem itself: This poem, as I mentioned earlier, happened on my Saturday work shift when I was having an extremely off day and things were weighing on me heavily. I wrote this between hygiene time and when I was on the other side of the cottage at the end of the night, trying to edit it down to make more sense. I used a different narrator and had some creative spells with it so I hope it’s nice and I hope that you managed to enjoy it in some manner! Just like anything else, I too shall rise. Hopefully tomorrow’s shift is even better! 🙂

Thank you so much for reading.

I’ll be writing up the post for this week’s poem soon.

Stay safe. xxx ❤ ❤ ❤

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #4: Do Not Make This Funeral Her Home

Hello there and welcome back to another poetry related blog post!!! I apologize for disappearing off the face of WordPress the last few weeks, I’ve been busy being forgetful and often procrastinating on my adult responsibilities, having lack of motivation at times, an otherwise glum type of mood or pretending like certain things don’t exist if I preoccupy myself with something else in the mean time, so, you know, the usual. 😉

I wrote today’s entry’s poem a couple of days ago as you’ll see noted down below, and I pulled from a few different elements which I’ll get into after I paste it all here. Overall, my life’s been all right and I’m happy to have been able to reconnect with some online friends of mine, starting back up where we left off which has been amazing and very heartwarming and rewarding. I have a few other messages I have to attend to soon, a book to finish somehow and in some manner, tweets to make and a couple of emails to write up. I’ve been trying to do some fanfic related reading and messages too so there’s also that. There will be a few new blog related posts to come into fruition soon as well. For now, let’s start off the end of this week with the poetry challenge!!!


QUICK! WHAT ARE THE RULES?

This post marks my fourth entry into the weekly Summer Comer poetry challenge I’ve made for myself to last from the end of May 2020 to Sept 4th 2020. The rules include:

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

Let me know what you think of this week’s poem down in the comments! (And as for how I was feeling last week, I’m a lot better and I was able to do some fanfic writing that helped get out of my sexual frustrations ahaha.)

And if you want to help support my mission with this poetry challenge, leave me a prompt, theme or character name/subject you’d like to see me cover and I’ll incorporate something in and give you a shout-out, too!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ Stay tuned until the end to hear my process of this poem, what song I listened to and all that jazz. 🙂 Also here is last week’s entry if you want to reread it!


Do Not Make This Funeral Her Home

Trigger Warning: Grief, loss, death

 

One day,

he knew

the sparkle would

return to her eyes,

the sunlight that

wafted down from

the thick leaved treetops

would part through her

blonde hair as alive and well

as she had been.

 

In the summer night glow

he’d smell her favorite perfume

again,

and he’d hear the shrill

whine in her voice as

she called his name,

“Tyler!

Tyler!”

growing louder and louder

as her heart sang and her

voice rose to the clouds

up above.

 

Her laughter would turn his

insides to goo. He’d be

swinging his head back to meet her,

chuckling as his brown hair

met the rays of iridescence.

 

And it would feel like someone

had planted rainbows in his chest

and his heart would flutter

in anticipation and just as he

was turning towards her—

it would have happened.

 

the truck came barreling

out of nowhere and

his face had enough time

to contort into horror and

he just managed to see

Madeline’s eyes twitch in

confusion as her slim brows

rose in question

before a thunderous roar

escaped and

somewhere between heaven

and Earth,

their shouts and formless

words were blinded by the

truck’s horn and

in the flicker of a second

everything he had once

cared about was

obliterated into nonexistence.

 

He’d thought there’d be

more time.

He’d only wanted

more time.

 

More time to:

hug her,

love her,

cherish her,

need her,

want her,

build a life

together

with her,

carry her,

dream with her,

be–just simply be–

with her.

 

But some dreams shatter

and some fates

are just

not meant to be.

 

So with a mournful look,

he watched as she was

laid to rest–

a rest he couldn’t

fathom would be easy.

 

She had so much left to do,

so much left to change

and impact

and he couldn’t understand

why her life would be taken

instead of…

instead of…

another’s?

His?

 

His.

 

She’d wanted only

the best in life

and it should have been

a sin to take away

such a radiant beam

when the world was

only growing dimmer

and darker by the second.

 

He knew he had

to make a change,

take a stand,

have something be

different

because Madeline Cross

had been alive

and existing once on

this planet.

 

And now that she

wasn’t–someone

had to know what

they were all missing

out on.

 

So he spent months working upon

awareness and reading

agonizingly boring

books on law and

legislation until he

found the way for the

city to commemorate

her death and

build not only a

memorial walkway

where Madeline

lost her life,

a guard rail

to better seclude the

nature trail and install

a stoplight to further

separate the rough framework

between nature and

manmade civilization.

 

And for a while it

eased the ache left

inside his heart

but it didn’t all go

away,

he was pained instead

with a loss so deep he

had no plan on how

to mold or change it.

 

So he didn’t.

 

He mourned.

 

And when he thought

it was over,

it returned again–

until one day

he was out on the

sandy beach,

watching the tide

come in and fade

and he felt her–

he felt Madeline–

take his hand and

squeeze and if he

wasn’t mad,

he heard her giggle and

he heard her say,

“It’s all right, Tyler.

It’s okay to let me go.”

 

Because now he knew

he never really would

and their relationship and

her loss would shape him

and refold him

for all the time and

years he had left.

 

He couldn’t control how

much time Madeline had–

and he certainly

couldn’t control his–

but it was time for him

to move through his

grief–not as a destination

rather a process,

a journey.

 

So when the salty air

pricked the tears

forming in his eyes,

he let himself go,

and he wasn’t surprised

to find all of himself

 

still. there.

Technical aspects of the poem:

Handwritten: 6/11/2020

Typed and Edited: (any minor spelling errors resulted from the typing up portion, in case you find any lingering flaws) 6/12/2020

Music: “Where the Shadow Ends” by BANNERS ft. Young Bombs. Train ambiance also used in the writing process.


About the poem itself: This is honestly the first true original characters/setting poems that I’ve done in a very long time and it was incredibly refreshing and helpful to just take a moment in the pause between my reading a book (of which many frustrations arose) and just create again. It was really, really nice. There wasn’t really much I was upset about but I could use what I learned from the grief book I’m reading as well as tossing in some images I could relate to (for instance, the truck accident made me imagine that scene in “Pet Sematary” the original movie) in addition to some sad news I found out about a friend of mine. It all just wrapped together well and like I’ve already said, it was nice and soothing and I felt calmer after I had written it. I’d had vibes earlier in the week but it was nice to sit down and just let it all flow and see where it would go.

For the title I thought of “Funeral homes” and how that shouldn’t be Madeline’s home and so the title is a call to how we have to learn to move forwards and through our grief rather than expecting it to come and go in expected, structured manners. That her home, or anyone’s home, isn’t in the death and casket or urn itself but her life was the home all along, instead. It’s a way of remembering her and finding justice and peace in her untimely death, it’s a way of trying to make her life have meaning and have her leave behind a positive legacy. It’s also all about the relationship and attachment that happened prior and the end of the relationship isn’t really the end, it’s just a new normal so to speak. Again, when I do this book review on GIAJ this theme will make more sense.

PS In my mind, both Tyler and Madeline were in their mid to late teens. 🙂

Any who, that’s it for me for now!!!

I hope to have much more posts in the coming weeks and to find ways to motivate myself again and finally finish this book!!!

Thank you so much for reading!!! Stay safe! xxx ❤ ❤ ❤

#SummerComer #PoetryChallenge Entry #2 | she knew of what could be.

summercomer-poetry-challenge-thumb-5.21.20
This is the second week we are bearing witness to this thumb. Hope it doesn’t get boring as more time goes by! 😉

Hi there! I’m going to keep this short so we have time to stare and admire the poem for this week, ahaha!!

If you want to see the Rules to this challenge fledged out here you can! Or stay tuned to the next little bit where I will do a quick crash course about them. Or, even better, check out this week’s entry into the challenge and then go back later to see the first week’s poem! Dun dun dunnnn. 😀

QUICK: WHAT ARE THE RULES?

  • each post begins with the thumb above
  • each poem will be individually titled and labeled by the entry number in both the piece itself (at the end) and in the title
  • each post will include any background music used to “set the mood” which will be listed at the end of the entry
  • each poem loosely exists within the context of summer but is not strictly limited in constructing that imagery. I.e. it’s a summer project but may venture outside of that topic/theme-wise. 🙂
  • the goal: one poem each week from the end of May to the start of September under the hashtag: #SummerComer

And, that’s it!

Ready? I hope so!!


she knew of what could be.

somewhere down the

old,

familiar road:

 

she dreamed into the clouds

of the big, blue sky

and the stars trickled down their

light onto her shoulders,

picked her up by the arms

and cradled her strong,

nestling into her full cheeks,

gracing a smile upon her lips.

 

she wore makeup etched within the

lines of her face–

mascara that made lashes sweep,

like billowing wind at the oceanfront,

eyeliner that opened up the green

of her eyes,

making them dazzle and pop,

and the lip gloss that she wore

sparkling on her lips,

glistened like the sun’s rays

through the gaps of a shady tree.

She wore blush that

decorated her face like those

fairy lights that she loved to set up

across her bedroom’s walls,

giving birth to a sweetness running so

deep in her veins that she was

practically diabetic.

A pop of color, the blush was,

across her pale-toned

flesh.

 

Her long, brown hair fell in waves,

curls abounding,

frizz kept at bay.

 

Her eyeshadow screamed of a thousand

suns, the solar system colliding across

her eyelids,

spinning and twirling with their own

gravitational pull.

Colorful would be an understatement,

but she rocked it well.

She rocked it.

 

And somewhere behind her green eyes,

lay dreams she had yet to dream,

hopes she had yet to unveil,

a spark for life that had yet

to encounter her form of consciousness.

 

she smiled at the sky,

for what was and what could be,

and as she blinked away the shadows,

the darkness that dared to cling to her

broken flesh,

she did so with peace in her heart,

and soul in her breast.

 

she was going to make it far.

 

she was going to be the sun.

 

she was going to be enough.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

she knew it then

as much as she knew it today.

 

and over and over,

she would sway on her feet,

but remain standing.

 

because she was a wave that could not

be broken,

she was a spirit that could not

sail freer,

she was a force of nature.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

she was.

 

and every day,

every day

she proved to herself

that she’d be there.

 

she’d be there.

 

and next time,

they wouldn’t dare to

dampen her fire.

 

Technical information about the poem:

Entry #2: #SummerComer

Written: 5/28/2020

Background music: “After the Storm” by Mumford & Sons


So, if you follow me on Twitter you got a live action of all my anger and frustrations with learning this new editor and wishing to rage quit SEVERAL times over the 45 minute span I was trying to quickly get this poem up by. Sigh, yeah. About that….

Thank you so much for reading though, and let me know if there are prompts, requests or themes you’d like to see me cover!! 🙂 (Also, are there good guides about how to get used to/learn the new editor? I clearly need to read it!! XD) Leave me a comment down below and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Finally, something a little more productive out of my week, ahaha.

And, about the poem itself: it kinda all came together well and I enjoyed describing things within it and I hope that you enjoyed it, too! 🙂 There are definitely some parts that stick out to me the most. =^_^=

Sending you all light and love.