» User
One Word Writing Prompts | Get Inspired to Write | Creative Writing Prompts | Writing Inspiration | Journal Prompts | Writing Exercises | Writing Ideas | Writing Challenges | Writing Motivation | Writing Prompts for Adults | Writing Prompts for Kids | Writing Prompts for Teens | Writing Prompts for Beginners | Writing Prompts for Fiction | Writing Prompts for Nonfiction | Writing Prompts for Poetry | Writing Prompts for Screenplays | Writing Prompts for Short Stories | Writing Prompts for Novels | Writing Prompts for Memoirs
read
write
sign in/up
FearlessMind22
Change your cover photo
Upload
Change your cover photo
Upload
Change your cover photo
FearlessMind22
This user account status is Approved
accidental
every accidental pause is a half-finished thought and I'm lingeriing now, fighting the will to look around and see eyes staring back at me, always staring, never seeing
younger
when I was younger, and the world had not yet succumbed so much to the disappearance of the ozone layer, my mind had likewise the protection it needed to run rampant, but now the icecaps are melting and perhaps I'm not as young as I once was— I frequent coffee shops instead of castles and now I can only fly in my dreams
scene
a scene at the seine, quiet with birds soaring above, wind in wings fluttering like water stone steps graduate the bank, the concrete ziggurat of paris, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a fluttering in my soul
stem
stem cells are said to be the building blocks of every other cell, the key, the cure tomorrow, I will see lights from above like the cells of a great city, cars cruising through streets like blood through a stoic body I wonder if Paris is already inside of me, unfurling inside my bones, metro cars chugging desperately through the channels of my veins
canned
just as smiles do not fall off the face like pebbles off a cliff, there one moment and gone the next, and how you can't package the manifestation of a feeling inside a metal cylinder, I firmly reject the physics of canned laughter
derived
if eve was derived from adam, woman from man, and words are derived from roots, and roots from smaller seeds planted thousands of years in the past
stolen
all I can think about are stolen moments, the dark backseat of your car when you first reached for my hand, and I didn't breathe the whole way home for fear you'd hear my blood singing your name as it coursed through my veins then I remember that you're the thief
bland
the blandest sunset will still be beautiful colors will fade like old clothes, washed too many times dye runs from thread but still fibers weave together and the sky will never unravel; cloud suspended from hueless space
eventful
un- eventful is a falsehood, fabricated by your sedated mind in order to convince yourself you’ve lived less than you would’ve liked because even as you think about the many facets of each day you also remember the blank moments, the spaces in between breaths and the moments where the laughter died from your face, smile slipping off