twocupscyanide

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frogs be upon ye

and upon ye, @revcleo

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Sylvia Plath

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He looks up to find Kenobi watching him with those piercing blue eyes. “What do you remember, Cody?” His voice is so gentle, not pressing, just a soft knock on an open door. “That’s not my name,” ‘24 croaks. It seems like a good place to start. “I’m not him. I’m CC-2224.” Kenobi’s eyebrows furrow, and his mouth folds down into a stubborn line that ‘24 is surprised to find familiar. “I won’t treat you as anything less than the person you are.” “But I’m not the person I was , sir,” ‘24 says, and the honorific just falls out. He snaps his teeth shut as if he could recapture the word. It makes Kenobi laugh, short and sour, and shake his head. “Why are you here, then? Did the Empire send you?” “Yes,” ‘24 answers. “Well, not to Tatooine. The Empire told me to find you.” “And kill me.” -Set the bone straight by @galateagalvanized

A post-Order 66 AU: Nearly a decade after the Rise of the Empire Purge Trooper CC-2224 discovers a Jedi hiding on Tatooine.

FYI: Cody is wearing Purge Trooper Commander armor, as well as the typical Purge Trooper red facial markings. The two golden stripes are the only thing he keeps as a reminder of pre-Empire days.

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One of the great tragedies of my life is that I despise reading.

That in itself wouldn’t be so awful if it wasn’t for the horrifying reality that I’m an English teacher.

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Ah, the tranquility

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Hi I love bees

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Flower Thief!!!

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I have lived my life devoted to the appearance of normalcy, gliding by on a pretence of grace that is fuelled by anxiety.

By all appearances,

I am poised, present, and pleasant.

My professors call me “prepared”.

My employers call me “professional”.

My editors call me “precise”.

In reality, I am a collection of dysfunctions tenuously held together by nervous tics.

In reality my mannerisms are informed by the careful study of people around me.

In reality, my precision is the result of hours spent searching for the words burning the back of my tongue.

In reality, my “well-organized” papers were planned on the backsides of course syllabi, hours before due-dates.

One day, someone is going to tear open my trench coat and see that I am really just a nervous opossum on stilts, fumbling with the collection of napkins, flyers, and leaflets upon which I have scrawled all of my “how to be a human” notes.

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My boy! Poor baby 😢

(Do it again).

Last Line Challenge

I got tagged by the wonderful @jedi-enthusiast and ∞-tagged by the Mostest amazing @cacodaemonia

Rules: Show off the last line you wrote or drew in a new post and tag as many people as words, pigments, or pixels as the line provides!

The song I mentioned in the last game? The Kamino song? Yeah. That one’s wholly at fault here. But! There’s more blame to go around! Mainly @adiduck who gleefully encourages me whilst I cry over cursed clones.

So this here is disassociating Unlucky!Cadet Cody. Don’t worry, the blood isn’t his! it’s Bly’s who’s currently recovering from stabbed lungs and complaining about it

The last line I drew is the little highlight on the bone ridge on the bridge of his nose.

No pressure tags, except for you @cacodaemonia, @lttrsfrmlnrrgby @cj-kenobi @leveragehunters @levitatingbiscuits @imrowanartist @happybean17

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I speak for the bees.

The bees say “Fuck You”.

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Photosynthesis

Give me everything green

So I can plant it in my soul

And finally be able to

Breathe.

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Lies and Lactic Acid

So exposed.

So tense—stretched so thin, pulled so tight.

Nowhere is safe.

Nowhere is home.

Everything place is temporary,

Every plan is tentative.

Nothing is solid—nothing to lean against.

Nothing to rely on.

Running from one fleeting patch of cover to another.

“Learn the beauty of temporary things”. They say.

“Learn the value of suffocation”. I hear.

Of never resting in a place long enough to catch your breath.

Of never trusting a thing enough to let your guard down.

Of training your heart to sleep with its boots on,

Just in case…

-Just in case you have to leave.

-Just in case it goes south.

-Just in case you were wrong.

Keep your muscles taut—ready to run at a moment’s notice.

Feel it burn.

Feel lactic acid building up in the muscles of your heart as you tell yourself to wait just a little longer;

“Soon it will be different”.

“Soon you will be safe”.

“Soon you won’t be alone”.

Soon you won’t have to lie to yourself to get through the day.

Soon you will actually believe the lies you’ve been telling yourself all these years.

I’m a sinner twice over—

Both the liar who deceives

And the fool who believes.

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Light is not always divine;

I am equal parts hellfire and sunshine.

2/04/23

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The driver nods approval

I hurry to my seat

My backpack holds bananas 

That I intend to eat

I crash upon the back row

As the wheeled beast takes off

And despair upon the knowledge 

My bananas have been squashed

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On the Canon

Second rate novel

Milk foam on dark espresso

Sunday afternoon

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On Pears

“It’s a pear” she said

giving no indication

of it’s size, or it’s shape,

or unique colouration,

it’s flavour or origin,

texture or grain,

it’s religion, it’s gender,

or even it’s name,

for a pear is a pear is a pear,

nature shows, 

and it goes without question,

(for everyone knows),

that pears are delicious,

though not all the same;

to invoke salivation, 

all you need is the name

and the crowds will come flocking,

from near and from far,

via train or by boat,

in a plane or a car,

to smell or to see,

or mayhap get a taste

of the pear she was holding,

but sadly misplaced.

10/01/23

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Stealthy bois