Writing Prompt

That face. It's utterly ridiculous. A smirk plays on the left side, the kind that suggests they just won some internal, private argument, probably at my expense. Those eyes, though, are the real problem. They're perpetually too earnest, too damn warm, refusing to acknowledge the abyss we all stare into daily. Honestly, it’s annoying. I prefer my emotional landscape slightly more apocalyptic.

A few...

In the comfort of his arms, I look up and see him. All of him. His eyes are closed, feeling the safety of our embrace. His beard hasn’t been shaved in a couple of days, just how I like it and he knows it. His cheeks are still flushed from our workout, going to the gym with him is my favourite activity. And his lips. His lips are curled up in a soft smile. His lips are full and so tender. Right now...

His eyes sparkle with wonder I’ve only seen on TV. Like I’m looking at the night sky filled with a million stars, and only now truly seeing how vast the universe is. His smile could brighten any room. It’s contagious, the way his happiness radiates. He’s kind, in a quiet way. He studies the world with a silent curiosity and it draws you in. I only wonder what more there is to him. What is under th...

His face always reminded me of the ocean. Weathered, powerful, soft, and gnarled. The lines on his forehead, mirroring His face always reminded me of the ocean. Weathered, powerful, soft, and gnarled. The lines on his forehead, mirroring a lifetime of expressions, folded to enhance his surprise, curved upwards to mark his disbelief, and gently sloped to bracket his amusement. His eyes were a green...

His face tells the story of a man i love deeply. His beard and mustache frame his jaw in a way that feels both rugged and tender, carrying the warmth of his spirit. His brown eyes—especially when touched by the sun— hold a light dat stops me, as if the world has paused to admire him too. Often, his face is marked with the dirt and sweat of long hours, proof of his strength and endless work. To me ...

Mocha chocolate irises

Flecked with gold the color of

Wonka’s winning ticket

Five winners of

Their own untimely demise

People have fought for these eyes

Like they fought for the same

Golden tickets , unaware

That that they are vying for

That which they already own

Fate, destiny, luck

All words with the same inherent meaning

Differing slightly only with specific belief systems or the way the...

Those auburn eyes like acorns of the great oak tree. Blessing those large and small with subsidence to make it through the dark and harsh winter. That dark hair as wild as the girl who sprouts it. Rushing with the wind. Unruly and beautiful. That devilish smile which pairs so well with the wild spirit. That kind look towards many in this life. Much like the wild flowers of the meadow, so much is s...

Your dark choclate eyes framed by perfect lashes

Your smile that makes my little world explode and leaves ashes

Your nose scrunches gently as you grin

You make my heart pound and it sounds like it’s made of tin

I feel like I am tied to you in perfect pink ribbon

I feel the pain of when your far away it’s a given

But to be tied to you is not a burden but a gift

As you hold your arms wide to hug m...

I love the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh

I love the way your face dimples when you smile

I love the way your brow furrows when you concentrate

I love the way your eyes light up when you’ve discovered something new

I love how your hair is uncontrollable and messy in the morning

I love the way your mouth mumbles unintelligible words when you try and cook

I love the way your nose scrunches, di...

Love is different for all

But him

He makes you special

The way he looks at me…

His pearly white teeth grinning from ear to ear

It’s infectious to default

His curly brown hair shaping his face you want to keep it persevered

But, I want to mess up your hair with passion I have the pleasure of giving you

His eyes fixed on you and only you making me,

Fold

His voice rambling about everything and not...