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  • bluepuppy01 4w

    Bleeding Truths

    When do truths become excuses
    Almost every word given is an explanation
    Many not even asked for
    Yet they skate between my lips
    Some veer off course, skidding across
    Not reaching the place where your cares live
    They skin their knees and bleed whys
    Of why even exist if I've nowhere to be
    Of why my truths seemingly lie to myself
    Of why my validity sounds less n less valid
    They're experiencing an identity crisis
    When I'm not there to keep em in my head
    Rock them gently within the safety glass
    Window panes to the comfort of a soul
    Free of pains exhaled into the outside atmosphere
    But you know how young ones are
    They want to get out and explore
    Some try a little too hard
    To make it a little too far
    I try to catch them before they fall
    Even so, my reflexes are no longer fast enough
    Thoughts have slowed over the years
    Yet my mouth speaks a little too much


  • bluepuppy01 10w



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    Once Between Horizons

    A society between clouds
    Paints the sky day and night
    Aware not of storms that’ll drag it below
    Towards a society more down to earth
    Home to beings who fight lightning with dirt
    Where hope does not fall with rain
    Instead its molded into a shelter of clay
    Little do these earthlings know 
    Lightning won't be the only entity to fall
    Rising to shadow rather than dawn
    In silent terror they gaze upon
    Supposedly a dream becoming a nightmare
    En masse unforeseen collision soon a society of shared horizons


  • bluepuppy01 35w

    You ever just wanna write all these cool n detailed stories n things but ur body's just like, "nahh, bruh, we too lazy for that" so u end up with a poem thingy that's fast n simple to make but may or may not make sense?? Yeah, I do that a lot but not a lot lately at all so here's one I just did ����‍♀️�� but hey at least it's something #bluepup
    I read the past like a huntress tracking footprints
    The creature I used to be wandered so far
    Makes me wonder why it never gave up on escape
    Did it have a haven in mind to retreat to
    Or did it just run to run with winds of luck
    It feels like we’re ½ earth apart
    Yet I’ve somehow caught up
    It looks at me as if knowing something I don’t
    Ignoring its uncharacteristically intelligent eyes
    The hatchet I prepare to throw
    The blade slices a path through the air
    But whooshes into a full stop
    Its been caught by a past that never needed to run
    The hatchet chases me this time
    Without time to dodge, I brace for the pain
    But pain does not arrive
    My past ran faster than any blade could be thrown
    In an embrace, I am surrounded and
    A wooden handle sticks out the back
    Of a past who shielded me despite
    How I turned back to kill it
    Only now I wonder why I was chasing


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  • bluepuppy01 49w


    Carousel of Delusion
    The earth quakes and cracks apart
    As hailstones descend and flames rise up
    Yet here we all are still sitting in our saddles
    Like the world around us isn’t experiencing a crisis
    Riding as if the icy, fiery, shaky ground beneath
    Is just dust blown into the past by the hooves of
    Some of nature’s imitations we built to escape danger

    Merry in oblivion, we go round, up and down, up and down
    Listening to a cacophony of merry-go-round melodies
    Drown out the cries of problems we choose not to see
    And the world slowly sinks while we convince ourselves
    We’re riding towards an angelic sunset
    Blind to how we rotate in place amidst an apocalypse
    Over and over, meeting the same geographical space
    As if repeating the same actions a hundredfold
    Would propel us into a future of unbreakable peace
    Decorating modern advancement of humanity
    Achieved without a single step stridden
    By those who dreamt of moving forward in the first place

    Oh how we’ve fallen, thinking a man-made craft
    Could lift us back up again from underneath the debris
    Of predicted storms we dared ignore just ‘cause
    Maybe we’re so used to things fixing themselves
    That we more often than not allow destruction
    To come prowling in, a mountain lion
    Preying upon the stallions we wish we could be


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    of Delusion

  • bluepuppy01 49w

    Inspired by the pic below.. I'm not really sure if this even counts for writersbay's nonhuman prompt so I added in oblivion as well for insurance lol
    #sensible_nonsense #bluepup
    #bayentry #Ltnothumansc

    �� DEAR ME ��

    Dear Me,

    I figured if everything in the universe is me and vice versa, then writing to myself is like writing to an inanimate item, but which of the mes am I writing to? Am I writing to my favorite fork? Maybe my childhood tree house? What about the Eiffel Tower all the way in Paris or that one loaf of bread burning in an oven somewhere?

    What if I receive a letter in return from a faraway star in an undiscovered galaxy that begins with a “Dear Me” also? What if so many of us write back in response that all it does is cause chaos? We’re all me, but who are we? Does it matter more than I thought- each and every single one of us using a unique designation to call ourselves by? Should I no longer refer to who I see in the mirror as myself? Or does it only apply to the things I look at but don’t see a me identical to the form I’m currently using?

    What if the inner discussions I have with myself are truly all different points of view, just that they’re narrated with the voice of the body I inhabit? For all I know, the struggle I had with myself last night on whether I should drink soda or water was not the me I am now. I could have simply thought, “I’m thirsty,” and, unnoticeably, two other mes, somewhere else in this world of us, answered right away with their suggestions. One- an empty bottle still sitting in the factory waiting to be filled. The other- a fake, potted plant hoping that soaking up H2O like all the greenery outside will make it just as lush and bright. (P.s. the suggested soda was too tempting)

    If all we are is each other and each of us is me, then aren’t we all oblivious to the oblivion within us. There're many pieces of ourself we’ve forgotten and won’t ever find again. What if this letter is to one of the unremembered? What do I say when I can’t think of anything besides, “Sorry no one remembers you,” however, is an apology even necessary? Yeah, I might not recognize who you are but, in the end, my point is that we are all one which means you’re also me and I’m not the type to forget even myself.

    Maybe all the mes tossed into oblivion are now disguised as the mes in my dreams of alternate worlds made of someone else. Then, again, is there anything to say sorry for? I may not remember but knowing and remembering are two different things. Just because I don’t remember what I know doesn’t mean I no longer know at all. So just because you’ve been erased doesn’t mean you’ve never existed and just because you cease to exist here doesn't mean you can't exist elsewhere. If the absence of your existence was the truth, then where the heck would I deliver this letter to? Even something imaginary is considered real to the individual who dared to imagine, therefore, being that individual, we are real. And, though, all I’ve written here so far might be a compilation of fallacies- so what? All of the fallacies are me as well. We never end. We’re everywhere, everyone, and everything.

    Anyways, taking this theory into consideration, let me start the actual letter:

    Dear Me,
    You’re awesome!
    Yours truly, Me

    P.s. This doesn’t make me (us) a narcissist, does it? ��


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    Dear Me

  • bluepuppy01 49w

    I didn’t know what to do lol ����‍♀️
    Btw if u see any big, odd spaces randomly placed around, there's probs just an emoji not visible to u there, k?
    #bluepup #bayentry #Ltseasonc
    4 Seasons Group Chat
    �� Spring:
    Dear Fellow Seasons,

    It is with utmost joy that I announce the coming of a new time. Winter has ended the year perfectly and is doing her best to forge a suitable path for rebirth in the grand scheme of things. I shall do my best in not allowing her hard work to melt away without reward blooming beneath the snow.

    Warm Regards,

    ❄ Winter: Uhh… Ur welcome? Thx?

    �� Summer: �� What're you even doing
    �� Summer: What's with the formal message, Spring? ��

    �� Spring: I just figured we should start out the year with clear minds and a will to do better… ya know… we kind of made 2020 a mess… we should try to make up for it, no? :)

    �� Fall: We did nothing wrong ��
    �� Fall: We weren’t the ones that screwed up last year, remember?

    �� Spring: Not exactly, but we definitely didn't help much either

    �� Fall: So? We just did our jobs as was scheduled
    �� Fall: The humans r the ones who made it worse. They're always causing us trouble smh

    �� Summer: Ikr they're such a pain but at the same time it makes everything more entertaining lmao ��
    I can't wait 'til it's my turn to mess with em lol ����

    ❄ Winter: Uhh… I actually think they're quite nice

    �� Summer: Why? Lol ��
    �� Summer: They complain about you the most
    �� Summer: How could you possibly think of them as nice? ����

    ❄ Winter: I dunno… just do ig… reasons…

    �� Summer: Sigh ����‍♀️ You never make any sense

    ❄ Winter: I am what I am. It is what it is.

    �� Summer: …
    �� Summer: Anyways
    �� Summer: Did you have anything special in mind to do, Spring?
    �� Summer: We'll hear ya out
    All ��s

    �� Spring: Um not really
    �� Spring: I was hoping we could come up with something together :)

    �� Summer: Alright alright ��
    �� Summer: Then I've got an idea already. Hear me out, yeah? ��
    �� Summer: So my idea is…
    �� Summer: Drum roll please

    ❄ Winter: …
    �� Spring: *Drum Roll*
    �� Fall: ����������

    �� Summer: (••• Typing •••)


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    4 Seasons Group Chat

  • bluepuppy01 49w

    #bluepup #prettypic355
    #Ltmusec #bayentry

    Muse 1.0
    How can I ever run out of words when words themselves are my muse?

    To You, From Me:

    When I don’t know what to write, I think of you and begin to type. There’s no such thing as writer’s block if you take ‘em all and build a tower to live in like a child with legos and an endless imagination.

    “What to write? What to write?” people ask.

    My advice will always be you. “Write about writing and you’ll never be lost, for it’ll always be everyone’s default muse.”

    One may have customized every topic they’ve chosen for aesthetics, to express emotions, or just to empty one’s mind, but when all else fails and one feels as if they can’t pen a single thing, you’re forever there to assist- offer a metaphorical shoulder as a lift (not a pillow to cry on). You’re there to remind them where everything started before everyone kept pressing the update button.

    And me? I’m someone who never dares to press update. I stay where I know I’m comfortable, where everything is just right- not too this and not too that (call me Goldilocks for all I care). To me, you’re no longer just a default. You’re what I chose myself- not what I was forced to comply with. You’re a solid foundation that supports even a tumbling tower of building blocks like myself (lol apparently we’re both good at playing Jenga). Above all, you’re my muse. All I ever want to write about is you and until I was challenged to write this letter, I never knew. Sorry for realizing so late but aren’t infatuated people usually the last ones to recognize what they’re feeling? I think that fact says it all.


    For when you yourself are my muse, how can the page ever remain blank? How could the tower ever truly stop climbing? How could the sky ever end?


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    Muse 1.0

  • bluepuppy01 49w

    #bluepup #Ltstrangerc
    #theclouds #bayentry

    ❄ Snow Clouds ❄

    Dear Little Land Floater,

    We noticed how a snowflake of ours landed upon a tear streaming down your cheek one night. It was then we worried if maybe we made it too cold for your already weakened heart to bear. But we didn’t want to leave just yet. Why? We weren’t sure. We’ve never gravitated towards a single land floater like that before, but, for whatever fate’s reason, whether to freeze your tears, numb the pain, or other, we stayed and let it snow 'til sunrise.
    ~ Sending more snow kisses soon in case you need them.

    Snow Clouds


    Dear Snow Clouds,

    The other night, I kneeled outside and looked to the seemingly dark and empty sky. I saw no difference between it and the heart thumping inside my chest.

    Everything was numb except my nose, burning red from the freezing temperatures, yet I know I felt it. It was barely a whisper that touched my cheek- cold but comforting, a snowflake. It melted too fast for me to believe there was more than just a cloudless sky above. Yet, at that moment, when my hope started to fade, another fell, then another, and another. All around me snowflakes swayed, twirling about in all their bright, white grace.

    I couldn’t thank you all enough for showing me what could be hidden within a supposed void when I was just about to drown in mine to end it all.

    With all the gratitude a human can give,
    A stranger on the ground


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    Snow Clouds

  • bluepuppy01 52w

    #bluepup #deserted
    #bayentry #passionc

    Deserted Passion

    Days like this
    The ones where you feel as if
    You’re the only one who exists
    There’s nothing- no one else
    Only soundless static in empty space
    And maybe a bed to shelf yourself
    No bookmark to show
    Where you should begin
    No ellipsis to let you know there’s more
    Than an upcoming happy or sad end
    No title but you think
    You already know what to expect
    So why not just lie here
    Do nothing except breathe
    ‘Cause why do anything when
    Your sheets are sweltering sands
    Of deserted passion
    And you’re just the burnt pages
    Buried deeeeeep beneath them
    Waiting for a tsunami to appear-
    Floods of watercolors
    Pretending to be an oasis
    Painting supposed purpose
    Into your ghost-towned incentive
    And filling the silence with waves
    Of all the dreams you used to have
    Rippling about-
    Not because stones are thrown
    But because you decided, one day,
    To learn how to swim


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    Deserted Passion

  • bluepuppy01 53w

    #bluepup #blue_truedare #cyanentry

    Royce (Part 2)

    [The Story Royce is Reading]
    “I said I’ll come with you, alright, so just put the sword down!”

    “Ha!” without warning, he slashes his hostage’s stomach open, “You say that but how can I trust you?”

    I focus on the pain of my nails digging into my skin to keep calm, “You should know me well enough to know I always keep my word. Need I say more?”

    “That’s a good point actually,” he strokes his beard and says with his grating voice, “Alright, let’s go then. My boys will send the kid back to town safely. I swear it.” He stabs the sword between the rocks and the salty breeze.

    “So we’ve got a deal then? You release my brother and I take you where you wanna go?”

    “Yeah, that’s the deal. Why? You have something to add?” His face only gets more menacing when his brow raises and a mischievous grin appears.

    “Not really. You?”

    His face droops in what I think might be disappointment before he hesitates to say, “Nope. Let’s go then, shall we? Boys! Take him.” The lackeys on standby rush up on either side of my brother’s weak and bleeding body. I wince as I hear a pained groan when they lift him up by his underarms and start to drag him along the shore. The lackeys then share what I assume to be a subservient glance with their captain.

    “After I’m done, I’ll come to find you right away, you hear? You’re gonna be alright,” I try to assure him but, honestly, between the two of us, I don’t know who’s more afraid. Then I pivot around, naively trusting the words of a marauder’s promise. The few steps I take fill my ears with gravel, but, a second later, what I hear is a sound I don’t even want to describe. My body freezes for only a moment, yet a moment is enough time for flashbacks, of what one could have done better, to engrave themselves within a guilty heart. I turn, again, to see the face of my brother looking down at the fist buried wrist-deep into the fresh wound on his stomach. The next instant, his guts are yanked out and raised skyward towards the circling gulls screeching above.

    My heart begins to beat erratically, its rhythm overwhelming my senses. The pounding of it echoing off the walls of my skull syncs with the image I have of my brother’s last breath. All I can do is stand shocked- motionless. Why did this happen? What did I do wrong? What could I have done? What do I do now? Who am I without my brother?

    [Royce pauses reading]
    Royce pats his hand over his rapidly beating heart, “Well, that escalated quickly.”

    [Royce reads again]
    I fall to my knees. Sand and sharp stones dig into the bloody marks I dug into my hands earlier, but it barely stings compared to the gut-wrenching realization I come across: It’s all my fault…

    I see a sword sticking out of the bloody rocks from the corner of my eye. Just the glare reflecting off the blade is enough to make my skin feel as if it’s being sliced through.

    ...No! It’s his fault! It’s all his fault! My brother would still be alive if it weren’t for him!

    I charge. Grabbing the sword, I rush at my enemy with his own weapon. Against better judgment, I attempt to skewer him with pure rage. Innards come flying at my face. I dodge, just barely, while continuing forward. Putting all my weight behind the blade, I aim for the same place where he brutally impaled my brother. He lunges for me at the same time, bare-handed. Suddenly, I’m tackled to the ground from the left side and land hard enough to dislocate my shoulder. The sword flew from my grip. My mind clears up a bit to process what just happened. I take a deep breath as the lackey that tackled me backs off in response to the swipe of his captain’s hand motioning to not interfere. Slowly, I stand up. He and I survey each other, waiting to see who moves first.

    [Royce pauses]
    “Oh, c’mon!” Royce shouts as he rolls his right shoulder back to unwind the sudden ache, perhaps from slouching too long, “Why the heck would you just charge at him like a raging bull?! He’s a pirate, not a matador!”

    [Royce continues]
    A seagull settles itself between us- apparently our signal to attack. It squawks then flies off when we dash towards each other once again. A feather or two falls between our punches. The wind picks up as we clash. Eventually, he wrestles me to the ground. One side of my face gets dragged across the gravel. No doubt my face is scarred. I try to kick him off of me, but he’s built like a whale, so I, instead, grab, break, and poke a seashell into the backside of the hand pressing down on my cheek. Surprisingly, his face just flinches before he pulls it out then firmly grips my chin with his bleeding hand, forcing me to see the crazed grin he’s giving. I can’t move out of the way in time. A scream escapes my throat. A bright light quickly flashes before everything goes black. He keeps shoving the jagged half of the seashell deeper inside my eye. Excruciating pain floods my senses like the waves crashing down behind us. I put all my strength into pushing his arms away. We come to a stalemate where he can’t use the shell to get to my brain and I can’t force the shell out of my eye. We lie there, one on top of the other, still struggling. The one good eye I have left turns everything I see red from all the blood gushing out of its twin.

    “Hey, Kyser! Don’t you wanna go meet your kid brother?” he cackles.

    “Huh? Gosh! Am I crying?” Royce, without glancing away from the page, uses a sleeve of his maroon shirt to wipe away tears he doesn’t realize consist of blood.

    [Story being read]
    “Not before I avenge him!” I spit in his face- close enough to the phrase, ‘An eye for an eye,’ I think. His hold on me finally loosens. I take the opportunity to knee his groin, then roll out from underneath him. With one hand covering my oozing eye socket, I quickly crawl and reach out towards the sword lying a few feet away on the ground. Though a little late, I hear him chase after me. Right as I’m about to touch the hilt of the sword, I get pulled down by my ankle. I rotate onto my back, getting into prime position for some kicks to be sent his way. Within my fist, I gather some gravel and throw it as hard as I can in hopes of buying more time. But my plan is for naught. I didn’t consider how a pirate would, of course, already know every dirty trick in the book, let alone my amateur moves. Expecting it, he uses his rum flask to shield his face while he plows his way through with pebbles flying everywhere. He lifts my torso up by the collar of my tattered shirt.

    “Wait! Wait! Wait!” I shout. And he listens. “Didn’t you want me to take you there? You need me alive!”

    He looks as if he gives it some thought, smiles, and then says, “But do I really?” He flicks his chin up a bit to the right. Shing! The sword is tossed over my head. The captain catches it perfectly and sets the sharp edge on my neck. I almost don’t notice how a drop of my blood is drawn.

    I gulp, “Yes?”


    Royce gasps for air. Gurgling sounds fill the room as blood spills from his mouth. His hands press onto the deep gash that appeared on his throat. The book has fallen to the floor. And, soon, Royce falls from his chair. He looks at the ceiling with blood pouring from one of his eyes. Confusion runs rampant in his mind before blankness arrives. Silence.
    A transparent figure awaits the appearance of Royce’s soul above their fresh corpse before saying, “I told you you needed me.”

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    Royce (Part 2)