"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."
for writing of all kinds. (concrit welcomed. ♥)
- [Sponsor: Moon Costumes - Anime Cosplay Shop!]
- Created By bellpickle
On being guarded.
.
.
.
my lonesome oak, nourished by warmth,
but denied of its kin;
I plant grasses, herbs, and ferns,
though none dare to grow near it;
they shrivel from the touch of moonlight,
its only keeper.
.
.
.
Interestingly enough, this was written for my Korean class. This is an ancient Korean form of poetry called Sijo, and it's similar to haikus in that the lines are restricted to a certain range of syllables (in this case, about 6-9 per line with an exception sometimes made for the last line).
And check out that abuse of semi-colons. 8D
Five Truths
A/N: IT'S FINALLY EFFING DONE. My excuse for the incredible lateness is that this went through a million edits and ended up being over three times as long as I was initially expecting. NO JOKES. This is "a series of inter-related drabbles,"...Season.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
seasons still change in a land of constant spring
seen through rifts in otherwise endless static beauty
like a pinprick of warmth on skin
or the barest shifts in wind
shown only slightly, subtly, shrouded
in carefully hidden secrets.
it's spring again
I note
warily.
Behind Closed Doors.
darling, you whisper
in a voice that stings
and does not comfort.
your words are poison
my dear.
(the drum in my chest
pounds to your beat.)
fleeting seduction
hushed caresses
a chorus of thoughts
humming the word love.
(do you think
the same things I do?)
I hold you in my arms
helplessly.
baby, I'm just trying
to figure you out.
--------------------
.
.
asdfghjksasdgfdfdfsddfdssdsddssdasdffgasasdsddasgsfgsad. wtf was that.
"Word spew" is an appropriate description of these impromptu poems, I think. Humor me, please. >_>;;
Mini-rant/writer's anguish/I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
First, the frustration: FUCK. This fic is so fucking confusing fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Someone, anyone, please help because I don't know if any of this is working at all. I think I'm mainly freaking out because this thing has the potential to be really really good, but I'm scared that I'm screwing it up somehow.
BUT ANYWAY. So regarding the last post, I just went with my gut and started working on the introspective one-shot thing. And this is how the first part of it turned out:
.
.
1. After a while, it becomes difficult to find the ‘me’ in ‘us.’
Jaejoong leaves traces of himself in the others. He compiles a growing list of their “me-isms” in his head: Changmin and Junsu have picked up my accent, Yoochun now holds his chopsticks the same way I do, Yunho takes his coffee the same as me, Yunho’s new hats are so similar to mine that he mixes them up, Yunho has grown to like the same music as I do.
He checks and re-checks obsessively, and assures himself that if the group were one day ripped apart or if he died tomorrow, he would still exist, somewhere, inside all of them. Makes certain that even if no one remembers the name “Youngwoong Jaejoong,” these pieces of him would still live on.
(“Idiot. You’re not that forgettable,” Yunho says and smiles into the crook of his neck.)
It confuses him that traces of the others are seeping into him as well. He sees Yoochun’s gestures in his own hands, detects Changmin’s sarcasm in his own tone, hears Junsu’s inflections in his own voice, breathes Yunho’s scent in his own clothes. How much of his current self has truly been theirs all along? Does it really even matter so much?
Yunho silences him with a press of warm fingers on cold lips. “You worry too much. We all love and are a part of each other. Isn’t that enough?”
Jaejoong tells him that it is, but sometimes he has to wonder.
.
.
...And I'm just not sure about the whole thing. I want the mood to be slightly off, but not entirely detached or unnerving. (If that makes sense.) Is it too... artsy? Does it even make sense?? I just don't know. *mopes*
