I hear a pitter-patter

I drum my fingers on the window sill

I hear a drip on the wood floor

I tap my foot with my heartbeat

I hear a roar and rumble

I begin to hum

The tune is faint

The melody quiet

The harmonies are distant

Just in reach

And yet it’s not

Either way

It’s there...

Your least favourite food, so that it doesn’t go to your head....

When my back is turned, I wonder

Do you cry?

When my back is turned, I think

Do you smile?

Or maybe you don’t care,

And see me only as a cure for boredom

Or maybe you care too much

And feel lost and alone without me

It could be that you get mad

And want to scream at me

It could be you feel giddy

And glad I’m finally gone

I can never stop thinking about you

And what you think of me

I can never ...

“Uhh,” Mark starts, looking confused as he picked at his birthday cake. “Why is there a baby seal… in my cake…?”...

Please, just watch Wonder Woman. Otherwise I’ll have to rewrite the entire script to Wonder Woman....

This definitely doesn’t go with the story part of the prompt, but it made me think of a phrase I’d just like to write-type-down.

Joy is a waste beneath a poisoned sky.

I’m not entirely sure what it means myself, but it just kinda came to me. Weird writer spidey senses and such. Lemme know if you can come up with a meaning for it, deep or humorous or somewhere in between....

Angry. Frustrated. Mad.

Tears of rage line my face.

Lonely. Abandoned. Sad.

I say I just need space.

Happy. Overjoyed. Glad.

A pride I can’t replace.

The tears lead to a special place.

The heart could not hope to erase....

A mask.

That’s all it is.

But I make a joke. I must be fine.

I’m just too good.

I’m laughing. I must be fine.

A mask.

That’s all it is.

I smile. I must be fine.

I don’t know anymore.

Who am I?

A comedian? Or an actress?

A lyer and deceiver? Or a clown?

I don’t know anymore.

Is this who I am inside?

No.

A mask.

That’s all it is.

The world is just a masquerade.

But it...

My head lolls to the side as I slowly wake. My eyes flutter open, and I sit upright, noticing I’m in a small wooden chair with a floral cushion. I’m in a room, plain white walls decorated with landscapes in golden frames, no other furniture other than my own chair. The wooden floor is cold beneath my bare feet, and my eyes scan those also in the room.

I notice Maverick and Keane, exactly how I i...

(TW? Idk if this bothers anyone, but there is murder and a hanging involved.)

“Roses are red!” She hummed happily, skipping around the playground.

“Like the colour you bled!” She continued, her lavender purple jump rope in hand.

“‘Cause you led me astray!” She bobbed her head, smiling as she got her jump rope ready.

“When you asked me to play!” She tied the jump rope to the tree branch...