πŸ’š Froggy πŸ’š

πŸ’š Froggy πŸ’š

He/They/She - Queer - 20 - Musician - Poet/Writer - TTRPG nerd - I love writing fantasy (pastoral, dark, and high), fiction, and poetry that may become a song. Feedback is always appreciated!!

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Writings
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There Is No Place Like Her(e)

She is the feeling of that dry, dusty cough of a wind that travels on for miles,


So far,


Always a journey,



It carries the sun.





He tries to never let me down even if he knows he can't do it,


Like splintering wood,


Failing just to please me,

He is nothing like her.



I would want it any other way....

The Broomstick (Prt. 2)

"I will not give yerself, a sorry excuse fer a duster, any single mackrel, let alone one of my prized catches of today: yes, my first-rate, pacific sea bass."

The broomstick replied by angling itself crooked.

"Aye, even though you untagled my rod," the Red Angler responded.

Charlie went upright in dispute.

"And retrieved various oysters for breakfast," the seaman said and then ...

The Great Sin

The 8th, and most deadliest sin, is authority. Though it conceals itself behind a dense surface of reasonable justice, it excuses the behavior of those who claim to be chosen by merit, success, and the wealth that never seems to favor the disenfranchised. It is because they never work hard _enough_. They can _never_ work hard _enough_. Among the ranks of those who could feed millions and politican...

3
The Mask is Slipping/Stranger

Evening dinner

Unknown faces

All is well

As a mind races


Surface level this

How are you doing that

Many questions asked

Though it is only chit chat


And you don't know me

As I do not know you

We can try our best

Unless you choose not to


The mask is slipping

And I begin to speak of myself

Becoming authentic with my words

A conversation of genuine wealth...

The Broomstick

"The tongue of a newt, the root of Redweed, make my cauldron bubble quicker than the ex who stole my centipedeβ€”Hey!"

The broom hastily flew away before the rather spry hag could reach it. Twirling around the ceiling like a dizzy fly, it bumped off of amphibians in jars and pots overflowing with dried herbs sourced from the apothecary down street, just next to the charm shop that refuses to se...

This Poem Has No Metaphors

Some Sundays,

I think of long car rides in a place I've never been,

Specifically a roadway narrowed by the most beautiful trees


The journey has giggles and laughs and fun facts I would have never known

It has a premade lunch, wrapped in paper, and many sketches on the back of our foldable map,

As well as a change in tires when one unexpectedly becomes flat


A memorable smile,

Funny voices,

and ca...

The Daemon Hunter [NOXIATION]

Another head.

Another reward.

All that was once red will become gold


And again she will enact

The justice above gods

A fate never honored to her


And such as Odel refuses to feed the starved

All while rejecting prayers when wars began to start,

Remba defied divinity itself

Punishment is virtue.


At the tip of her blade, a Netchen curled defensively, it's eyes desperate and loathing.


Her brea...

Each Page

A torn page,

Between the last chapter and the first,

Usually does not matter


It becomes offstage,

And the lights draw low

A reader can put it together


But the words are forgotten

The subtle text goes

While valuable thoughts don't stir


And each page again

Is burdened with unintended weight

A story told unpure


You cannot forget him or her or them...

I Love Balatro

Jokers, Jokers

Everywhere

Where is my Photograph and Hanging Chad,

Gosh, I swear


One blind, then two

A big blind and boss

The Window, The Fish, and a flop

I can stand when my number drop


And then I see it,

In that lucky standard pack,

A polychrome king

And a red seal


Higher and higher,

the numbers of blinds climb,

With five negative slots

Oh no, oh wait, I can't believe I forgot


It's the Plant...

FAILURE

Erring is as human as colossal mass is to a star; all consuming and heavy, but yet, bringing forth a luminacity that pierces even the empty sky. It brightens and charms, distant and afar, in a way no perfection could reach.


The human is a spectacular failure.


I could not even dream to be worshipped like their faults because out of their wrongdoings and misjudgements, of despair and self imposed...