newt-with-a-keyboard

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

lol guess who's been avoiding writing anything even though it very clearly helps. anyway

When my voice shakes let's call it wounded pride And move on. Now counting my steps reminds Me not to repeat all the lessons we Didn't learn fast enough. Where was that chance To change what became of us? Don't call for Your fates - they've failed you before. Don't tell me Again that we've lost what we never had.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Okay so this is not finished but its taking freaking ages and having this posted will make me want to work on the rest. Also. If you write with a rhythm too long it becomes hard to break out of apparently.

Anyway 1st try at short story introduction.

When you searched for ghosts in the layers of worn paint you knew you'd find something. They bothered you at first, at least until you learnt most of them want to hide.

Now you are more careful. You lift your eyes slowly and try to ignore them. And that works well, almost.

There aren't other options so it's probably fine.

It's all fine, even if it was a mistake to come back for off-season; it's quiet enough here for your thoughts to wander. You need a distraction.

The rattling air con coughs into the dry heat of your childhood bedroom. The weather boards close in, all strangely aged versions of the ones you dream of some nights when you're homesick. (You'd rather forget them).

The air's too dusty here.

You walk to the window, another stinging ant has found its way inside;

You look closely at it's shifting oil-slick colours. What an odd little thing. In this uneven light it shimmers - opal fire on a gilded body. Green as the shards of glass you remember from - no, there must be something else.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

pain everywhere my nerves sharp. "name the feeling" ok fine

The sky is rolling under me

Again, and each wave hits harder

Salt-burn, stolen breaths

And the world breaks over itself,

Rushing over the rocky shoal

Shell grit, cracked teeth

And it starts over. the rough stone

Cuts deep, time to breathe and bear it

Black out, swim again.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Throw stones together and hope for a spark

See where it gets you (alone in the dark)

Throw stones together (careful what you hit)

Don't get too reckless – that's my thumb damn it!

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

There's this story's in my brain. it's decided to be a horror story even though there is not an idea in my mind of how to do that .

Just. Little thing, where do you need to go so badly? Those words are not mine yet. Please stop yelling at me.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Spacewalk

When the tether snaps,

let's catch ourselves on something else

clutching at words

clumsy hands hoping for contact.

Alarm bells and air leaks

My lungs are empty. Hold my hand

until it's okay or until it's over

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Daybreak blooms slowly like frost as the dawn

Melts over it all, bright as the bird's call

Grey sky, fog, feathers, now the cold light's worn

Like a shawl across the green winter's moss

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Is angry on how suffering gets spoken about in places around me. Pain episode is bad. This is half conscious person trying to deal with pain. Do not expect much here

oh god.

Let me be here until

the smoke lifts the ashes

skywards, skywards,

skywards.

oh god, it tightens.

around my bones icy fingers

glacial weight crushing

over, over, through

Heat in my blood and

my veins are gilded

let it be enough. let it be over.

Let it be holy.

Oh the foot

That kicks me over the edge

The hand

That pulls me back to the surface

Skywards, skywards

Skywards

The ocean and the nighttime and the idea of forever.

Names on my tongue, sweat on my brow

Muscles are rigid when you tell me how

To look skywards, skywards, skywards.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

"wow time running backwards is a neat way of explaining the strange hindsight of dream memories" - me not remembering that time is like that in tumblr feeds also

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Oops forgot order that tumblr works in

You can block tag "Walking into nightmares" to not read random stuff about mine.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Prose poem? Dream diary? Something else? Ah well, it exists now. This dream stopped coming to me so much after being written down so that's neat.

Tw for animal cruelty and the people who kept describing it to me to help my personal growth or whatever.

"Learned Helplessness".

The story never mentioned what he looked like, so she changed shape with each telling.

A frightened border collie, her soft ears pulled back. A black water-dog flashing the whites of his eyes as he twists around the small space. A wiry terrier with her teeth bared in a snarl.

Her dun pelt slumped over twitching muscles. His eyes were frozen as white-sleeved arms dragged him back into the open. Shallow breathing and shaking limbs. It all ends the same.

It all ends the same, but the speaker changes with each telling.

A doctor in lab coat tells me about me of a researcher. A social worker with neat hair, precise movements and a seat that's between me and the door. A stranger who is standing far too close. A message somewhere between "don't be the dog" and "you already are"

The story feels closer with every telling.

The world splits between a metal grid, until something drags me back out of sleep. My muscles twitch and my eyes freeze. My breath smells like fear and steel. My muscles ache like they've fallen through a cattle fence. It all ends the same.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Time runs backwards here, the answer arrives before

the question is spoken, before

the thought occurs.

So don't flinch up there, when you tell me not to struggle

don't let me wonder

don't let me ask.

Then you've never had to know the answer.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

seem to have found an author who writes with a voice that sounds like mine. or maybe like how it would be nice for me to sound.

which is very strange for me

they're also writing about a desert. going to finish my tiny story before finishing reading to avoid accidentally copying too many pieces

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

A wrecked ship lies, softly breathing. Seaweed-covered edges sway like a mirage.

Breathe. Hold. Dive.

The shape rises towards me, lets me run my hands along old iron, soft wood. Recollections pour over me like sunlight. A lantern. An old comb. A forgotten name. A library, scraps of memory weaving together, kaleidoscopic patterns converge for a few moments before shifting into something new. Five, fifteen , twenty years rushing over me until my chest aches.

Rise. Hold. Breathe.

Breathe. Treading water until my head clears. Follow the current back to shore to stand again on shaky legs.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

little kindness won't save them all.

but give the next person who tries

a small head start.

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Ow. nightmares make my mind hurt. You can block tag "Walking into nightmares" to not read random stuff about mine.

Static and fog and static. Time moves backwards here, in shifting spaces between one dream and the next. Smoke and snow and smoke. Sliding downhill over nothing. The wisps curl through something solid. A face, an eye, a face...

How, exactly, did you find me?

[newt-with-a-keyboard]

Okay my head is too tired for different structure but yeah .

Practicing images + linking ideas. Hopefully it makes sense + maybe even has desired effect .

We looked back. And we saw a blue bead suspended in a beam of starlight. Surrounded by eternity, you can afford to get lonely sometimes.

Our glaciers buckle under themselves, thunderous and mortal. Deep blue ice suspended on the edge of our world. A final crashing wave, a plea or an accusation.

Stars collide, a slow motion apocalypse occurring beside us. The echoes buckle into the deep silence, then fade. We won't notice for another century.

When we notice the light fading we will look back and see eternity beside us, growing with each moment. Sometimes we can afford to get lonely.