#EmotionalWriting

[shannyhere]

pockets are empty, dreams on hold

bills stack high, and the nights feel cold i chase the hours, but they slip away working for pennies, day after day

i need the money, it’s all i can see freedom’s a price that’s too high for me counting the minutes, waiting for more but the struggle’s the same as the day before

[s-soulwriter]

Writing Angsty Scenes Without Making Them Cringe

Alright, so we all love a good angsty moment, right? That scene where everything feels like it's falling apart, emotions are running high, and your character's world is just burning around them. But… writing those scenes without slipping into "oh no, not this again" territory? Yeah, it can be tricky.

Angst is powerful, no doubt, but it can get cringey fast if you’re not careful. So, how do you make your readers feel the hurt without rolling their eyes at the drama? Here are some thoughts (because we’ve all been there)

1. Keep It Real No one—and I mean no one—has perfectly poetic, life-altering thoughts while they’re in the middle of an emotional meltdown. If your character’s going through it, make sure their reactions feel raw, maybe even messy. Show us their confusion, anger, and fear in a way that makes sense for them. Don’t just throw in a monologue about the meaning of life or have them collapse in a rainstorm. (Unless it’s really necessary. Then, okay, fine, but be careful!)

2. The Little Details Hit Harder Sometimes, it’s the small, unexpected details that pack the biggest punch. Instead of a dramatic sobbing fit, maybe your character’s hands shake as they try to make a cup of tea or they notice a tiny crack in the wall that they never noticed before because they’re spiraling. It’s those little, relatable moments that make the angst feel real, not overdone.

3. Embrace the Quiet Moments It doesn’t always have to be yelling or crying to show that your character is struggling. Silence can be loud. Sometimes it’s the things unsaid that carry the most weight. Maybe your character withdraws, or they’re stuck staring at the ceiling for hours. A pause in the conversation, a long sigh, or a blank stare can be just as gut-wrenching as full-on breakdowns.

4. Avoid the Obvious Clichés (If You Can) Okay, this one’s a bit tricky. It’s not that you can’t ever have rain scenes or broken mirrors (I see you, “symbolism”), but if you’re gonna go there, give it a twist. Maybe instead of staring out a window during a storm, they’re in a brightly lit, overly cheerful room that just doesn’t match how they’re feeling. Play with contrasts. Make the environment work against their mood rather than mirroring it perfectly.

5. Let the Angst Breathe Don’t feel like you need to dump all the angst in one scene. Let it stretch out a bit. Give your characters space to process (or fail to process) over time. A lot of times, readers will feel more for a character who’s quietly unraveling over several chapters than one who explodes all at once. It makes the eventual breakdown hit harder when it does happen.

6. People Are Weird When They’re Hurting They joke at the wrong times. They say things they don’t mean. They shut people out, or they get way too clingy. Don’t be afraid to make your characters react in unexpected or contradictory ways—people do that when they’re feeling too much. Let your characters be complicated, because real people are.

7. Subtle Can Be Stronger Not every angsty scene needs a screaming match or someone running away dramatically. Sometimes, a single line of dialogue or a character’s slight change in expression can hit like a freight train. Try letting things simmer. Hold back when it feels like you should go big, and you might surprise yourself (and your readers) with how much more intense it feels.

[monthlywritingchallenges]

🎵 Coming Soon: January Song Challenge! 🎵

Start the new year with creativity and inspiration! Different song will guide your stories, drabbles, or poems, focusing on themes of new beginnings, hope, and growth.

✨ Prompts inspired by meaningful lyrics and melodies.

✨ Open to all genres, fandoms, and original works.

Stay tuned for the song list and get ready to kick off 2024 with creativity! 🎶

You want a song on the list? Send it via Ask!

[uncle-keg]

Untitled Love Poem

Pulling you closer to me, as we melt away in each other's arms; where I could spend– all day.

You make me feel so at rest with your hands caressing my chest...

Looking up into those eyes of rich dark chocolate, puts me in a trance– making me love being alive.

My smile in their reflection never seemed so radiant, credited all to your affection.

[elysianwing]

The whites of my eyes stained by all they have seen. Even when I close them the crimson red and abysmal blacks won't fade for a second. Dreams, my only escape from my dry tears and sighs. Blink once, twice, three times whilst my lids are shut. R.E.M...is as deep a sleep I journey. I'm not awake...until I drift away. The realities my subconscious manufactures are more warm, more inviting than ten lifetimes like this could be. When the breathing slows, and the pulse drops down I feel that fleeting euphoria. It tastes more sour each and every time, I open my eyes to the harsh "actuality" termed my life. Yet, in these restless nights, when insomnia comforts me without request; an annoying "ally" sparing me that bitter flavor... my thoughts toss and turn more than my body. Wrap themselves in blankets thick with anxiety...urging me to converse with them. Heating my brain... where no beads of sweat can quench that thirst, yet flow down my brow steady and unwavering. I'm made Nocturnal, with no say on my own behalf. thoughts most active when activity is in the midst of slumber.   By Alexander Learmont

Posted 6/14/2003 at 4:11 AM 2024 rewrite available @ https://www.patreon.com/Elysianwing

[tejwriter1206]

'The Weight of Love'

Stress is mine, happiness yours—

I am the storm’s reluctant heir,

Carrying tempests in my chest,

While you waltz beneath a sunlit sky,

Unburdened by the clouds I cradle.

Pain is mine, joy is yours—

I bleed on the thorns of sacrifice,

While you cradle the bloom of bliss.

My hands bear the weight of ruin,

So yours remain light with dreams.

My nights bleed into an endless abyss,

Where shadows whisper my name,

Yet your days shine like a hymn,

Each moment kissed by golden hues.

I am the fractured string,

Muted and forgotten,

While you are the melody

That dances beyond the silence.

My heart is a battlefield,

Its silence deafening, its wounds unyielding.

Yours, a garden of serene whispers,

Where peace blooms in every corner.

If love is measured by giving,

Then I have poured rivers into your hands—

Yet why do I remain a barren sea?

Perhaps love is not a balance,

But a beautiful burden,

Where one must break

So the other can soar.

~Author S.S.Teja

[heartstrings-and-hauntings]

The Comfort of You

Thank you for being there when you're busy or unwell, For listening to my rants, my stories to tell. Thank you for taking my feelings to heart, For showing me care right from the start.

Thank you for making me feel safe and secure, For effort and time that makes me feel sure. Thank you for being yourself, nothing more, It helps me feel comfy, lets my own heart soar.

Thank you for smiles on the days I might cry, For laughter that lingers when tears won't dry. Thank you for always just being you, For all that you give and all that you do.

[sunnyanddumb98]

The day I moved to Santiago, my sister was diagnosed with HPV 16. I’ve seen her cry before, but this time she was broken, convinced beyond any reassurance that she’d never have kids again. What was supposed to be a big change for me suddenly became all about her. I dropped my things and cooked dinner, but the new place, the new city, the new world—everything was in the back of my mind. I guess that’s how change works. You keep going, and maybe in a month or six, it’ll hit me: those beach days feel so far away, like another life altogether by then Fernanda will be either just fine or in treatment and will be my time to move again and cook dinner in a whole new place.

[jubz0]

Embers at First Light:  A Child’s Rage

Inspired by Dylan Thomas’ “Do not go gentle into that good night”Personal adaptation of Dembe Zuma’s Final Monologue

A shared destiny. With silent certainty, death awaits us all. Death’s significance is inherently dissolved by the inevitability of fate’s call. What truly matters? Our relentless search; what we pursue, what we discover. how to heal, how to love, how to grow.   How we Live. We cherish these children, more than anyone will ever know. Their remarkable refusal to go quietly into that good night. Their  fight  for  life. A  fight  in  spite. Imposed by dusk in countless ways, yet fiercely committed to the day’s embrace. When confronted by the silence of twilight, they defy in rage.  The  rage  of  life, To rage against the dying of the light. A blaze to capture moments of peace, play, and joy. Their journey—an innocent and curious endeavour to explore life with an unwavering passion—is perhaps the most profound path one can take. Inconceivable that their spark would fade—freed of wake, into that good night. Our time with them, our time together, is never about an ending. It is always about the odyssey, about discovery, about a child’s everlasting reminder—showing us, imploring us; to rage. Do  not  play  gentle  in  this  fight. Rage. Tend  the  embers  of  their  bright  light. Rage,  rage  and  ignite—

[gramnyesnotes]

[shadowsfromtheheart]

Abyssal Descent

Beneath the water’s veil, I am trapped,

A prisoner of an unseen force,

Grasping my throat with spectral hands,

Choking, silencing my breaths.

I am engulfed in a paradox,

Feeling nothing yet everything at once,

Sinking in a weightless realm,

Where limbs turn leaden,

And vitality ebbs to shadows.

A primal awareness stirs within,

Instincts whispering of the dire need for air.

Eyes flutter open, limbs begin their desperate dance,

Legs thrashing like rudderless sails,

Arms flapping in futile mimicry of flight.

I grasp for the surface,

Yet each thrash pulls me deeper,

A relentless tug of gravity’s embrace.

My chest tightens,

Breathe a fading whisper,

Water seizing my mouth and lungs in a cold embrace.

Pressure mounts, a vice on my heart,

My screams emerge as mere whispers,

Lost in the watery abyss,

Strangled by the unseen chokehold.

My final cries for help dissolve

Into the crushing silence,

A fight against the deep,

Heard by none.

I am submerged,

A soul trapped beneath the waves.

[shannyhere]

i became a crybaby after you died

the grief hit hard, and i couldn’t hide every little thing made me break and weep memories of you cut deep in my sleep

but tears, they heal in their quiet way slowly, i’m learning to face the day though you're not here, your love still remains guiding me gently through all of the pain

[bigfeelinghuman]

Haunted

There was a version of myself That existed  when you didn't 

I search for her  in vain

my mind  has walled her off, Deemed her a foreign entity

and instead,  the version  That knew you has engulfed  my being 

I sense you  In everything:

The cool breeze  That mocks me  With memories of your warm embrace

The cruel trick Of memory Fills the still air  With your scent

Every object  you have touched Every word  you have spoken

All tainted  by your essence

But you are gone.

You have been  laid to rest I watched as  Your body was lowered Into the depths  Of the earth  Then sowed flowers Surrounding Your hedge, Guarding your rest

Yet you are anything  but resting in peace As your shadow  Looms over my mind

Is it because I Constantly visit your grave?

By my own fault  You have been tethered  To this realm of thought

Have my tears  Supplied you with life And allowed you To take supernatural form?

Because it seems your ghost Has found its home, Haunting me, In the unused corners of my mind

[mumbled-tea]

Poetry of my heart

Where did it come from? A side road to my roadway. It started with conversations, everything from hilarious to deep. We got to know each other better.

We are holding back for true time. Although, everyone is a stranger. Aren't you a stranger? she questioned. Use me to express what you feel, lead me to an innocuous way, he said.

Building the unconditional support, and wanting to stick together, we developed the amiability. Providing the guidance altogether, we believed in glowing up together.

He trusted me heartily, and how not? At least I have someone right? he queried. I gave a silly grin and replied, Why won't you? I am here. I don't know for how long, but I am.

[uncle-keg]

ars gratia artis/ars poetica poem

Art for the sake of art-

requires vulnerability,

but I don't know if I'm able

for a part of me

to be left out on the table.

Not carefully carved

like thanksgiving turkey,

more like last night's discared dinner

not saved or cleared, out of lethargy,

and beginning to stink.

I wouldn't dare to take a bite

or try to reheat it;

attempting to give it new life.

That'd only accentuate the stench,

resurrecting the past,

and making me wretch.

Though in doing so, it may finally pass.

[elysianwing]

Rough Draft

I know this place. I know it well… It is where…when left alone, my ideas go to die. Their haggard bodies litter the ground here conceived while showering, or doing busy-work… or just before I fall asleep only to dissipate like most all dreams do. It’s only been a few days since I last wrote something new, but already I can feel the words trying to slip away from me falling between my weary fingers like grains of sand sliding through an hourglass. Taunting me as the seconds grow, one by one until they morph all at once into an endless silence, enveloping the space around me and stealing away all but the sounds of my breath as it echoes softly. Audible, yet still saying nothing like this damnable blinking cursor on my word-pad. Were it only so easy, as making this cursor move. I could let myself fall asleep and lie my head down on my keyboard spilling my dreams onto the page as the weight of my skull is cradled by the soft pillows of depressed keys. Tearing the white away one drooling, snoring, tossing and turning letter at a time. Written 9/8/2024 @ 10:12pm by Alexander Learmont https://www.patreon.com/Elysianwing