#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.

[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

[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.

[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.

[itspeterkha]

My departure isn’t an act of rejection or abandonment; it’s a decision forged from necessity, a boundary drawn to protect those who depend on my strength and loyalty. I’m not deterred by darkness, nor do I flinch at the weight of someone else’s pain. In fact, I’m built to hold it, to understand it, to validate every storm someone carries. I’m here to be the space where wounds can be seen and emotions can breathe, where healing is a tangible possibility. But understand—this space I offer has limits, and it’s rooted in protecting more than just one person’s journey.

If the darkness you carry begins to bleed into the lives of those I care for, if your struggles start casting shadows over those I’ve vowed to protect, that’s where my loyalty finds its boundary. My commitment is to lift and uphold, not to allow unchecked harm to ripple through the lives of those who look to me for support. No matter how deeply I care, no matter how much I’ve invested, I will cut ties without hesitation. Because in that moment, my priority shifts—to protect, to ensure that those around me remain safe from the burdens others refuse to control.

So when I walk away, know that it’s not out of indifference; it’s out of an unwavering commitment to safeguard, a responsibility I hold sacred. I won’t carry someone’s darkness at the cost of others’ well-being. And if it means severing ties, even after years of loyalty and effort, then so be it. I’ll walk away, leaving only silence, because my loyalty is to those who respect and value the sanctity of that space—not to those who endanger it. This isn’t about teaching lessons or holding grudges; it’s about honouring a commitment to protect, and I’ll stand by that, even if it means moving on without looking back.

I am built to endure—the trauma, the pain, the darkness that others might shy away from, I welcome it, because I know I am strong enough to bear it. I don’t react to surface-level actions; I look deeper, down to the roots where those actions are born. I see through the layers of anger, fear, insecurity, and unmet needs. Because I understand the source, I can hold space for those emotions, validate them, help transform them into something manageable, even redeemable. My purpose is to see the truth beneath the actions, to create a safe ground for healing and growth, no matter how heavy the journey may be.

But understand—there is a line I will not let you cross. When your actions, your projections, or your pursuit of “healing” start to spill into the lives of others, when your own darkness seeps out at the expense of those I protect, that’s where my loyalty to you ends. Especially when it’s my people—those who stand beside me, those I champion. I will place myself in that gap as a shield, absorbing what I must, but I will never allow it to harm them. If your journey to self-discovery or fulfilment requires the sacrifice of their peace, I won’t hesitate to cut you off. No matter how deeply I care, how much I’ve invested, or how long we’ve stood together, I will walk away without a second thought.

The day you become a threat to the well-being of those I protect, you’ll find yourself cast aside, as if you never existed. I am not here to compromise the safety of others for the comfort of one. If you test this boundary, know that I will see through you, see past whatever we shared, and look right through you as if you were a shadow without weight. My loyalty is unwavering, but it’s never blind. I will always protect those who depend on me, and if that requires letting go of anyone who endangers them, then so be it. This isn’t a negotiable stance; it’s a promise, a boundary, and a conviction that I’ll uphold without hesitation.

[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

[inkandsoulpoetry]

A Glass of You

By Jazmyn Edmonds

I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until drinking a glass of, you.

And no matter how much I drink, I’m forever dehydrated until I hear your voice again and our spirits meet with each passing day, while I study your essence.

Knowing true serenity, falling freely, madly.

Deeper in love gazing into the portals of your eyes as our yearning souls whisper gently to one another.

Making love without sex.

Your presence alone brings me ecstasy.

The hours pass slowly, and the day goes by yet it’s never enough time with you.

As memories flood in of our lifetimes together, my mind is playing catch up to what I always knew when I first laid eyes on you.

Our first laugh.

Our first touch.

Our first kiss.

10,000 hours.

And yet I still tremble to express how deep my love burns for you because my love is a forever kind of thing and you were, unexpected.

Heaven sent.

But I find peace at the witching hour

Finding you in my mind every night as I'm running down the aisle and into your arms,

Back at home with you.

Until the sun rises, and we meet again.

[arcanes-things]

Things I Left Unsaid - VI

11. 10. 2024

Yes, i do have feelings for you. But I know my boundaries. So please... Just let me admire you from afar, hug you through my words, flirt with you just so that you wouldn't think that I am avoiding you, or eyeing you wierdly. Just reigniting a part of me that I never thought is capable enough to exist.

So please, let shower you with love, from afar... Till these feelings go away.

Those eyes, that light reflecting through it, so raw when you are listening, your voice that holds patience, your shifty behavior, sincerity to your academics, how your name sounds... Everything, indeed a butterfly... Butterfly never really held that much meaning for me. Until I used it one day to describe you...

I wish I wasn't much of a coward to own up to you... But then again... How much do I even know about love?

[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

[sunnyanddumb98]

The only reason I bought that iPad was to impress you. I've never been an iOS girl—Apple always seemed pretentious and overpriced outside the USA—but there it is, sitting in my new room, where you've never been and never will be. In your absence, it's helped me a lot. I've gotten jobs and lost them. It's travelled a lot—went to London and back, to Buenos Aires too. But I do wish I’d never bought it, that we’d never kissed, that I’d never talked to her or introduced the two of you. Maybe things would be different now; perhaps this room would have been a studio apartment for the both of us. But it’s not and never will be. Now that iPad is just a tool, an outdated, old tool I can’t bring myself to sell, so there it sits on my nightstand, wherever I go.