Writing Prompt

(MY DEAREST BITTERFLY, I SWEAR I WON’T GET BALLS!! *I don’t believe perfect lives exist. If it seems someone has a perfect life, it’s probably a lie or they are just satisfied with their life.* I think people who have seemingly nice lives who are sad or depressed or whatever are chill people, I have nothing against them. This story is just about someone… specific. Hope you have a great day.)

Her ...

(Can y’all guess who I got inspiration from for Seth? Hint: he’s from a kids show)

(The “rough”part is that he thinks bad about everyone and has a bunch of ulterior motives for almost everything)

“Perfect”

“Poised”

“Polite”

That’s what people see me as. The perfect son of the ambassador. The one who knows 4 languages and is going to graduate college as a highschool junior. Then I go to law scho...

Everyone around me seems fine

Their joints don’t pop

don’t ache

Don’t bother

I try to keep it hidden sometimes

But its hard to hide a chronic illness

Its like an elephant in the room

Just today I learned something new

Every joint had been affected but one

And now my jaw hurts too

It started with my ankles

When I tripped and fell in tap shoes

Tiles floor and metal shoes

Not a good mix

for my a...

Carmeles had always been a little town full of diamonds. But like in every expedition for the precious gem, the rough is promised while the diamond is not.

Charles Swiftman had been a promising child. He had made good grades in school and was kind to those around him. He had never given anyone any reason to believe he would be a stain on the spotless tablecloth that was Carmeles. That all changed...

Standing with a guitar at the end of the intersection, the sweat poured down his face like a river. Tobacco-stained fingers and a faded ball cap, he played the beaten instrument like it was the last days of his life. Strum. Take a breath. It was becoming harder and harder to show up. Hated by his father, unwanted by his mother, he played for love. He played for money, too, but what did that money ...

In a town where the houses gleamed white and the lawns never dared to grow wild, a man lived at the end of Ashberry Lane in a shack of salvaged wood and spider-cracked glass. A blemish, they thought, on their perfect little picture.

The children whispered about him as if he might bite.

“Don’t go past the thornbush,” they warned.

“He has teeth for fingers,” one insisted.

“My cousin saw him bathin...

My feet follow each other silently. A race to see which one can pass the other more swiftly, even though when I stand still they will reach the same destination. My top row of teeth overshadow my bottom, while at that same time the bottom claws at the top resiliently. My nose is first to find out about certain things, and this make my eyes and mouth jealous. Competition is food for the human spiri...

Kyrin sucked a sharp breath in as footsteps approached his room from the hallway. He scrambled to gather his papers from the desk they had been sitting on, abandoning the act of writing in the process. He had just set them down when the door swung open. His roommate, Deril, entered.

"Hello," he said curtly.

"Welcome back," Kyrin murmured, heart pounding. He had taken a seat at his own de...

The walk had been freezing

relentless, gruesome.

It had been snowing and snowing

the woods mumbling a deadly song.

Two souls were wandering till night

through blank and blinding white,

Their hands numb with frostbite

a timid fire creating their only delight

The one mate was sleeping

the other stood guard.

The cold was creeping

Keeping the fire was hard.

Do not play with the fire

it’s your life’...

In a world filled with diamonds

There are a few roughs

Sometimes it’s hard to find them

It can be a little tough

This world of beauty

It’s hard to endure

It’s often not what it seems

What is the cure?

With these imperfect roughs

Amongst the plastic and the fake

There are the shoulds and the musts

But amongst the perfect are mistakes...