Writing Prompt

Who am I?

Well, I don’t know

Quite how to answer that question

When I haven’t even become

Who I am supposed to be yet.

Who am I?

I am the person in the back

You know nothing about.

That kid who likes to keep to themself

Because no body wanted

To get to know this me

For the longest time

So I learned how to be shy.

Who am I?

I am the person you don’t know

Has super powers.

I can see the finest of...

The seed planted in darkness. It just wait and be patient

The water will pour onto it

The sun will heat the ground it is in

It will tremble and break little tendrils out of its shell

Reaching, reaching, reaching where?

Is there a place for it to go

The earth adds more water more light encouraging it even though it cannot see

It pushes up through, through what?

Resistance

Pain

Frustration

Not know...

Rotting flowers can still smell sweet..

Most flowers are liked cause of there beauty and appearance’s

How every flower is liked cause cause of the outside not the inside

But no one pick or chooses the ones that aren’t seen as “pretty”as the others

Even if their the sweetest on the inside everyone cares about the outside.

The flowers that are smelling not as good and are turning brown ...

You don’t know what someone’s going through they may look ok and but that doesn’t mean there not hurting inside they may look like the are happy but there actually sad they’re like rotting flowers that still smell good....

Rotting flowers can still smell sweet

I took a tab of acid, that shit made my week

Growin shrooms in my bedroom

Type of penis, that’ll make me weak

Crying tears in rivers of happiness

I ain’t been good, since last week

Bottle closed, nose is runny

Though bout you, I ain’t that lucky

I’m stuck in past ways, smokin the same haze

But this summer lasting all year

This summer lastin...

i must be a bad person

because things like this don’t happen to good people

i can’t sleep and i don’t remember how

to eat right anymore

it’s not on purpose

i didn’t fall in love with you on purpose

but it happened again

fool me once, shame on me but

fool me twice,

and i’m drowning in shame and disappointment and disgust

and i can’t remember how to eat right

anymore

i’m so...

Rotting flowers can still smell sweet,

Like I can seem fine when I’m falling apart.

And if I choose to hide it, you will fall for my deceit,

Because you never looked hard enough.

Maybe you’ll realise when cuts mar my skin,

From emotions that grew too dark.

Or you look through the trash in my bin,

And find the notes that made deeper marks....

Once, in a forgotten village wrapped in mist and memory, there lived a woman named Elira who tended the last blooming garden. Her cottage sat at the edge of the woods, its windows glowing amber at dusk, surrounded by vines and wild roses. People whispered that she spoke to the dead — or perhaps to the memories of what once lived.

Each morning, Elira gathered flowers — not the freshest ones, but t...

Inspired by the prompt: “Rotting flowers can still smell sweet…”

In a cottage where ivy kissed broken stone,

Lived Elira, the woman who gardened alone.

Not with tulips in bloom or roses bright red,

But with petals half-fallen and nearly dead.

She plucked them at dusk with a reverent grace,

Each wilted bloom held like a sacred face.

Pressed into oils, steeped in old jars,

Whispers of sorrow seale...

The vase from so long ago

Sitting on the table

Where you left it so

Filled with faded flowers

I lift it to my nose

The stench wafts in

And so it thus goes

The memories do linger

I remember it all

The day you left me alone

We fought in the hall

And you stepped out of my life

I didn’t know you would die

I didn’t know how you felt

Or understand why

But I was to late to help

I cannot touch that o...