written-in-the-rain

[written-in-the-rain]

You are a student of a superhero academy for people with useless superpowers.

[written-in-the-rain]

via @extramadness

[written-in-the-rain]

via @extramadness

[written-in-the-rain]

“One thing you learn when you’ve lived as long as I have - people aren’t all good, and people aren’t all bad. We move in and out of darkness and light all of our lives.”

— Neal Shusterman

[written-in-the-rain]

“i struggle with my feelings, i struggle with my writing. i don’t know how to accept myself and what i feel.”

— t.m.

[written-in-the-rain]

I have nothing else to fill my time, you are all I have to turn to. These 26 little letters are my only escape. I don’t know how much longer I can go on without you. Maybe I don’t have to. Writing is like breathing. I can’t stop when it’s all I can find peace in. Creation. Beauty. Wonder. This is what writing has become for me. A gentle stream that flows from the center of my mind to the tips of my fingers. A great ocean of imagination flooding my body.

At the end of the day when the great winds have swept in and demolished any last trickle of hope from my veins, the release from writing is all I have left.

- Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

February 27

When it’s not enough... when the light hits your window but you don’t wake up or the tea goes off but you don’t quite hear it. It’s the rustle of trees in an abandoned forest. When the whispers of a loved one remain on their lips. It’s been as long as you can remember but you haven’t reached your goal. It’s the training and dedication, but never the results. It that feeling when it isn’t quite enough. That is how I feel.

- Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

February 27

A letter to my loved ones:

Everyone talks about how you deserve more, you need more, you should always want more. More, more, more. But is that really what I need right now. I don’t think so. I think there’s a world of more out there but I also think that world can wait. All I want is the here and now, the just enough, the small moments. I don’t need to touch the stars or taste the sun. I live with starlight in my eyes and sunlight in my veins. I am powerful and strong. I am peaceful and steady and I don’t need to change. I don’t need your more. Can’t I be just enough?

- Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

When death was asked “what do you remember?”

I remember everything and nothing.

The little infinities that draw out, the small moments. I remember the beauty of every single soul I meet. They are all so unique, so unknowingly intertwined. From the moment a child is born down to its last breath I remember it all. Not a day goes by without being remembered by me. When you worry and fear that no one will be there. I am always watching, waiting until we can meet. I remember the spark in your eye when you met the one and I remember the tear sliding down your still soft cheek as you had to let them go.

I remember the beauty and peace of before, the destruction and desolation of during, the solitude and sorrow of after. I recall the nothingness that came before. The hollow void. The sheer emptiness of it all.

I remember everything and nothing.

Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

A continuation...

...somewhere, in an older universe the night sky looks like a tapestry of diamonds. Somewhere darkness is pale white and glittering. Imagine being so surrounded. I haven’t gotten that image out of my head ever since - you could never navigate under such a sky but god it sounds lovely.

What good is this new and more beautiful sky, if it can’t be used to navigate. Maybe the emptiness inside us serves a purpose. Maybe those spaces are what make us powerful.

You leaving gave me space and space and more space. I am now free to navigate my own skies. So I guess I should be saying thank you. But to be honest, you don’t even deserve that.

Kvoths and Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

Write a poem about yourself in which nothing is true

She was a creature of chaos with icy eyes

But where she walked the earth bloomed

She was dark and evil

She was an angel

Never the one but always both

This beauty was anything but a dream

She is terror through the night

She is a scream

You’d never know the secrets she hides

The warrior outside

You’d never know the heartache she lives with

She is a myth

Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

The light within

That feeling, that gentle kiss. That touch of light. It’s the smallest warmth, the palest yellow. It’s tiny but golden and oh so bright. The littlest act of kindness strengthens it. It’s the smile to a stranger on a rough day. It’s the text to an old friend just to say “I hope you’re okay”. It’s the smile that spreads across your face when you see an exceptionally beautiful sunset. It’s the yearning for life. It’s happiness. It’s the light within.

Mer

[written-in-the-rain]

Prompt: God as a warrior

You hear a tumultuous groan as he bands up his wound. Hot ichor flowing from the gaping hole. You see his torn body; blacked, bruised, damaged. He looks up, fire in his eyes. He flexes, the power in his tendons bulging over the tattered garments of his once great armor. In him you find a hunter, a genius, a protector. Power races through him as he turns back to his enemy. That fire raging hotter than ever. The fear that had welled up inside you, fading now as you think to yourself “I’m glad I’m standing on his side”

[written-in-the-rain]

Apparently when you die you stop breathing and then your body is buried underground forever. But tell me why I haven’t seen her alive in weeks and she’s still breathing right here next to me. For a while now I listen to her heart beating and she tells me about the way it aches because love is a foreign disease that contaminated it with heartbreak. She tells me how her head is filled with a revolution of thoughts that smell like gun smoke. The other day she told me “I think this is what it truly feels like to be dead — being alive but having a replay of your worst days in your head every single day.”

— Alexa Evangelista, the book I’ll never finish writing

[written-in-the-rain]

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”

— Laurell K. Hamilton

[written-in-the-rain]

night shift // lucy dacus

[written-in-the-rain]

via @extramadness