@monsters-ink.bsky.social
Aspiring writer and human. I sometimes do art, too.
August 3, 2025 at 7:27 PM
July 31, 2025 at 2:15 PM
June 19, 2025 at 3:04 AM
My hobbies are my friends. So every time I paint or draw or write or scribble or read, know that I am in good company. Though, sometimes when my brain slows down & the clouds gather a little too close, the brush or pen or book are just what they are & I search for a warm voice or hand with no luck.
May 24, 2025 at 3:59 PM
My hobbies are my friends. So every time I paint or draw or write or scribble or read, know that I am in good company. Though, sometimes when my brain slows down & the clouds gather a little too close, the brush or pen or book are just what they are & I search for a warm voice or hand with no luck.
The ashes are not my mom’s. Not my father’s. Or either of their parents’. They’re not of cousins or thinner branches of my family tree. The urn sits on my bookcase all day and practically all night. In the morning, it’s sideways, cover off, relocated to the floor.
1/2 #write #writing #cat
1/2 #write #writing #cat
May 6, 2025 at 9:38 PM
I need a late summer carnival
Smell of burning sugar
Sound of tinkling bells
Taste of powdered sugar at the corners of your mouth
Sight of warm red and yellow against dark blue horizon
Teetering between refreshing breezes and shattering thunder claps
Boom bang crash
#poem #poetry #writing #write
Smell of burning sugar
Sound of tinkling bells
Taste of powdered sugar at the corners of your mouth
Sight of warm red and yellow against dark blue horizon
Teetering between refreshing breezes and shattering thunder claps
Boom bang crash
#poem #poetry #writing #write
April 25, 2025 at 5:26 PM
Let freedom ring
Like the sponge
ping pong
Ball in my skull
It’s old and tired
And growing more
And more dull
Let freedom ring
Its hollow
Dull
Clunking
R5 @quickquill.bsky.social
Like the sponge
ping pong
Ball in my skull
It’s old and tired
And growing more
And more dull
Let freedom ring
Its hollow
Dull
Clunking
R5 @quickquill.bsky.social
April 12, 2025 at 4:45 PM
Let freedom ring
Like the sponge
ping pong
Ball in my skull
It’s old and tired
And growing more
And more dull
Let freedom ring
Its hollow
Dull
Clunking
R5 @quickquill.bsky.social
Like the sponge
ping pong
Ball in my skull
It’s old and tired
And growing more
And more dull
Let freedom ring
Its hollow
Dull
Clunking
R5 @quickquill.bsky.social
My head hit the keyboard & the email sent. I only found out thirty minutes later after Mr. Wells tapped my shoulder & threw an empty box in my cubicle. The drool created canals in the crevices between the letters. My mouse floated like a boat on a lake.
You’re done here. R4 @quickquill.bsky.social
You’re done here. R4 @quickquill.bsky.social
April 12, 2025 at 4:11 PM
My head hit the keyboard & the email sent. I only found out thirty minutes later after Mr. Wells tapped my shoulder & threw an empty box in my cubicle. The drool created canals in the crevices between the letters. My mouse floated like a boat on a lake.
You’re done here. R4 @quickquill.bsky.social
You’re done here. R4 @quickquill.bsky.social
To be so powerful to ignore currents, to float with safety of wires above & stone below, to sway & wobble but still remain unfazed, to connect the masses like artery, vein, or spine, to fear no wind, no crash of wave
Call me when you get there
Call me when you’re over
R2 @quickquill.bsky.social
Call me when you get there
Call me when you’re over
R2 @quickquill.bsky.social
April 12, 2025 at 3:33 PM
To be so powerful to ignore currents, to float with safety of wires above & stone below, to sway & wobble but still remain unfazed, to connect the masses like artery, vein, or spine, to fear no wind, no crash of wave
Call me when you get there
Call me when you’re over
R2 @quickquill.bsky.social
Call me when you get there
Call me when you’re over
R2 @quickquill.bsky.social
Coffee caught in her pull, keys swirled soon after, the smell of rose & gas clashed & flooded the outer limits of her being. Paper, laptop, clips, & that emergency lipstick towed in aftermath, her pits soaked, a caffeinated blotch grew on her blouse like a widening eye.
R1 @quickquill.bsky.social
R1 @quickquill.bsky.social
April 12, 2025 at 3:20 PM
Coffee caught in her pull, keys swirled soon after, the smell of rose & gas clashed & flooded the outer limits of her being. Paper, laptop, clips, & that emergency lipstick towed in aftermath, her pits soaked, a caffeinated blotch grew on her blouse like a widening eye.
R1 @quickquill.bsky.social
R1 @quickquill.bsky.social
Berta had a method for her madness. #Toes & fingers had their own jars. Digits were digits, she thought, but sometimes she wasn’t ready for the funk when unsealing the toenailed treats. She collected the moonpups bc they were ferocious & cuddly. Some grew strong and bulky & she would ride them. #vss
April 5, 2025 at 5:48 PM
Berta had a method for her madness. #Toes & fingers had their own jars. Digits were digits, she thought, but sometimes she wasn’t ready for the funk when unsealing the toenailed treats. She collected the moonpups bc they were ferocious & cuddly. Some grew strong and bulky & she would ride them. #vss
Thunder cracked when my #child left. The door blew open as if trying to be symbolic. The gust that entered stole the flame from my candles before I could wish to be twelve again. I felt old. My fingernails yellowed slightly. My spine started to bend like a candy cane.
#vss #fiction #writing #write
#vss #fiction #writing #write
April 4, 2025 at 2:29 AM
Sharpen, sharpen, sharpen the skill so that one day you may slice through the thick hide of the Beast and see the light for a goddamn change. Breathing in the golden rays of well-deserved praise is far better than the dank, tight sadness inside the Belly.
#writing #write #new
#writing #write #new
April 2, 2025 at 9:14 PM
I cut the heads off flowers today. I was sitting in a field with heavy, steel scissors & I snip-snapped my way through the plants & then my fingers, & arms & bones. I confettied my skin and cubed my muscle into bite-size chunks & scattered myself among the bulbs & blades.
#writing #write #spring
#writing #write #spring
April 2, 2025 at 1:34 AM
The Bigfoot left the woods shaking his head. It sat down in the camping chair opposite mine & put its massive hands over the fire to warm them. He crossed his hairy arms, leaned back, &, in a voice not so different from my own, said, “What the fuck is going on here?”
#writing #fiction #write
#writing #fiction #write
March 29, 2025 at 1:56 PM