- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- It varies. I can't promise much consistency due to my chaotic life.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Superpowers, Drama. Also, romance is required with me because I will get bored without it.
Introspection: the self-observation and reporting of conscious inner thoughts, desires and sensations. It is a conscious mental and usually purposive process relying on thinking, reasoning, and examining one's own thoughts, feelings, and, in more spiritual cases, one's soul.
Try and write a poem based on inner thoughts and feelings. It can be about a handful of things or just 1 subject that's always on your mind. It can be about a worldwide issue, a person, a scar you have, anything that makes you really sit and think... I shall present you with an example, of a time when I was walking down the sidewalk one day to discover something tragic. I always look back to it when I'm deep in thought about...death:
>>;
Try and write a poem based on inner thoughts and feelings. It can be about a handful of things or just 1 subject that's always on your mind. It can be about a worldwide issue, a person, a scar you have, anything that makes you really sit and think... I shall present you with an example, of a time when I was walking down the sidewalk one day to discover something tragic. I always look back to it when I'm deep in thought about...death:
Kiss of Death
I kneel
before a baby bird
Fresh from the egg
Cold to the touch
Marked by the lips of Death
I weep
wondering why it left us
Is the air too polluted?
Did the war give it fright?
Are its parents neglectful?
I wish
this creature could have flown
and experienced sunshine
as well as raindrops
and even snow
I think
long and hard about death
How the empty depths consume you
and all you see is darkness
All you feel is cold
I create
a grave for my friend, the bird
with a promise to keep
that I will resist the kiss of Death
until I'm much too weak
I kneel
before a baby bird
Fresh from the egg
Cold to the touch
Marked by the lips of Death
I weep
wondering why it left us
Is the air too polluted?
Did the war give it fright?
Are its parents neglectful?
I wish
this creature could have flown
and experienced sunshine
as well as raindrops
and even snow
I think
long and hard about death
How the empty depths consume you
and all you see is darkness
All you feel is cold
I create
a grave for my friend, the bird
with a promise to keep
that I will resist the kiss of Death
until I'm much too weak
>>;