#excerpts from books i'll never write

[lilliesand-valleys]

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“I believed you even when I knew you were lying.”

- S. C. C.

[letterstokami]

[vomitingwords]

and then I learned

how to cry

without tears

falling from my eyes

behind clouds // ma.c.a

[ninasdrafts]

(shortened)

[cvtastrophee]

i have yet to find the end to this pain.

[charmingwinds]

I read somewhere that the act of peeling oranges for someone is considered love. I found it stupid.

Then one day, I was home after a tiring day and there were oranges sitting on the counter. I knew they had to be eaten that day, a day later, they’d be rotten.

I was just too tired.

I completed my chores, and the oranges were still there, colourful and nudging, hoping I’d pick them up.

I walked past, and found my bed. My head comfortably rested on the pillows.

Those damn oranges.

I got up, sat on the counter and peeled them grudgingly. As I ate in silence, I understood what they meant. It was love alright, not peeling oranges but being taken care of.

[lilliesand-valleys]

[love-letters-i-never-sent]

[palladiumfragments]

my fingerprint was in the things i didn't say

all the things i didn't say is a tortured poet whose pockets i filled with stones and coaxed into walking into a lake down, down she goes never to be seen again. deep within, you know i, too, struck a match that led us to this precipice but without a body, mystery shrouds it like a story the townspeople think they know until you ask them about it.

so say the hard things one last time, your heart in your throat words hesitantly falling like a light summer rain. at the same moment, i was staring at the crash playing over your face like a see-through film scene. necessary lies filled the spaces where it could have been i tell myself, "better that than asking for forgiveness" i was already mad enough to let it haunt me it's these hands i can't stain.

soon, this case will turn cold confined in polaroids collecting dust in an evidence room fleeting, but in a way, timeless. i'll never speak of it again but nostalgia is the god i believe in so forgive me if i would still hear it in songs feel it in the shadows, bleed it into poems but darling if i spilled my guts you'll be the last to know.

[rizuuspoetry]

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“Do you have any idea of how many little things remind me of you everyday?”

- S. C. C.

[thesewordsaremymusings]

“I want to take my heart off my sleeve, it has grown too heavy.”

-m.n.

[apolline-lucy]

i am beyond thrilled to share the cover of my fantasy novel, THE HOLLOWS 🗡️💀🖤 coming out November 29, 2024!

Hollowing or rotting, such is the fate of Misttown’s witches.

With its eerie, unfading fog, enchanting shops selling cures in the forms of pastries and flowers, and its crystal market, Misttown is the perfect witchy haven. But when the fog vanishes, replaced by a strange green smoke, and ghosts begin to roam the streets, everything changes.

For Brume, a witch whose modest talents include being haunted by ghost cats, baking heartbreak-soothing treats, and uprooting moss and weeds, her uneventful life takes a dramatic turn. Not only is she the only one able to see the ghosts, but when she loses someone to the smoke, she has no choice but to investigate.

Accompanied by a half-demon, a bone witch, a seer, a necromancer, and a herd of ghosts, Brume embarks on a journey that might do more than solve the curse; she might find herself and the magic she has always been too afraid to embrace.

preorder for THE HOLLOWS is now live on Kindle Unlimited!

*only for ebooks; if you’d like to order a physical copy (paperback or hardcover) please wait until the release✨

Amazing art design by Makomeri

[heretoobsessstuff]

“we’re all gonna miss major Cleven, sir”.

Major Cleven John thought bitterly. Gale. Sweet beautiful Gale. Gale who was there. In the cockpit. Fighting for his life while John was sleeping next to a random woman. Gale who was falling from the sky. Living his last moments. Losing blood. In pain. Scared and cold and alone. While John was here in London. Drinking and coaxing a random woman to spend more time in his bed. Where was Gale now? His Gale. Laying on the dirt and mud somewhere? Lost in some distant German field with no one to look for him? His ocean blue eyes forever closed? What had become of him? Of his Gale? Was anything even left of him?

John felt sick with anger. His thoughts ran wild with no one to tame them. I should’ve never left him alone. I should’ve been up there with him. Protecting him. Looking out for him. It was supposed to be me and him left up in the sky. Not me in London and him lost somewhere I can never reach. It’s all my fault. I failed him. I failed him. Grief clawing at his throat. Suffocating him. His eyes stinging with unshed tears and the lump he had swollen down a hundred times with the alcohol. He needed to go. Avenge Buck. Or find him. Or join him. Wherever he was.

“Don’t worry Kenny” he said. Jumping into the Jeep. Hands shaking. “I don’t even feel it”.

Read Another drabble from Gale’s POV here:

[vomitingwords]

"I don't want to think about it now," one of my closest friends once told me. "I'll think about what I can do once I'm already in that situation," she even added.

Before we got into this conversation, I was ranting about my life. And why are things not happening the way I want them to? As if the universe is against what I want. These past few months have quite stressed me out, and I don't have anyone to tell these things to. Because, honestly, I never wanted to bother anyone. I am just a typical person who keeps things to herself. Especially if it's too personal for me to share.

Earlier, while I was traveling to work, this conversation struck me once again. And I just remembered that I also said that before to someone I know. I used to think that way. I used to tell other people the same phrase every time they asked me what I would do if I were in a certain situation. And you see, I used to not overthink too much. Yes, I am an overthinker, but not to the point that I am experiencing now. I just thought that my overthinking got the best of me. I'm on the verge of quitting everything that I'm passionate about. In short, I was so close to giving up and stopping everything that makes my heart feel alive. I haven't felt so genuine in a while, as if everything I wrote was nothing but mere words that have no meaning at all. Something I don't really feel like writing about. I stopped having a long conversation with anyone. I stopped listening to what they really had to say. And just think, think, and think until it's time for me to go to sleep.

But then I remembered who I was before. I remembered that girl who doesn't easily give up on things just because she's stressed out. I remembered that girl who loved to lift people up with her words. I remembered someone who would not let anyone stop her from achieving what she wanted. I remembered who I was. I remembered myself saying, "Let's see what I will do if I'm in that situation." Even if I am not sure what I can exactly do when that moment comes, even if I'm not sure if I'm still alive to witness that, I remembered how hopeful I was. And I remembered how much faith I have that things will always work out. And even if they don't, it just means that it wasn't meant for me at all.

I just want to tell you that sometimes you have to remind yourself of the old you—the you who have lived and survived in the past—just to get you where you are right now. And remember that if you don't like where you are right now, you still have a chance to do something that might change where you're going. It might be a tough road to walk on. But the most important thing is that you've done something. You've never abandoned yourself and just given up on what you really want to do.

Hello, I'm just dropping by // ma.c.a