[I accidentally wrote a bunch of really angry words today, but they weren’t about or for anyone in particular, they just suddenly welled up in my throat like vomit and I have no idea why.  But here we are, and here this thing is.

I don’t think there is anything in here worthy of a CW, but let me know if this assessment is wrong.  It’s very angry and unpleasant, though.]



A Song of Salt and Sorrow

[ A song for calling a particular Huntsman of Sahtet, called Shade.  ‘A song of salt and sorrow’ was a phrase a friend used to describe a summoning song for them, and a song of salt and sorrow was what I ended up writing.  I’m not going to explain it any further here, but it’s the first actual song I’ve written in years, and it has a lot of meaning to it, both for the character and for me. ]

A song of salt and sorrow
things hidden in the shade
A promise for the morrow
and the fire to be made.

A song of salt and sorrow
to call the Huntsman here:
to every wound its yarrow;
to those who darkness wear.


A part of a poem I wrote years and years ago for a friend.  Over seven years ago, in fact, and it became a poem on its own, and it’s still painfully true no matter how I wish it wasn’t.

But I’m working on making it less true.  I hope one day I’ll be able to look back on it and no longer feel like it’s anything more than just another scar.

Content warning: I don’t think there’s much in here that would warrant one, but let me know if I’m wrong about that.  Talking of scars, though.




My ferret friend has been drawing a series of pictures of a weasel character of his who’s a WWI veteran with PTSD.  And I told him recently that I wanted to give that poor man a cup of coffee because of how heartbreaking the last one was (https://www.furaffinity.net/view/21009909/).  So the ferret friend drew me giving that poor man a cup of coffee (https://www.furaffinity.net/view/21057522).  And now as a token of gratitude and as thanks I wrote him a thing about me giving that man a cup of coffee based on that thing he drew and wrote.

This is apparently my thing to do now. And I asked if I could put it up here, because I’m very pleased with how it came out, and it’s very sweet in difference from basically anything else I write.
Also, it has a bunch of phrases that I really like that I had much fun writing.

This one should not need any CW’s or TW’s.  It’s a sweet story.



A thing I wrote about my main RP character and her brother.  FEEL THE SIBLING LOVE.

Content warning: a ridiculous amount of terrible insults.



I whisper her name over and over like a prayer
the name of a stranger who I used to know
I whisper her name over and over
and I see the face of a friend I used to talk to for hours
Whispers to the shadows
and to the darkness which used to be my home
Tell me, dear friend, what have I missed?
Tell me, dear friend, what have I forgotten?
Tell me, answer my prayers, speak to me.



This is a story I wrote for someone I used to know.  It’s about our friendship and our differences, in the most convoluted and indirect way imaginable.  This one is much more cheerful, though, and ends much better than our actual friendship did, even if the reasons are the same in both.

Content warnings: It’s not that bad.  There is killing in it, but only mentioned in passing.  I also mention bugs and spiders and stuff, but it should not be very triggery I think.  There is a person with no compassion and empathy.



slate and shell

slate and shell
black and white
if life was only this simple!

a black tiger fights a white lion
a white-foaming river cuts deep
into black rock
two armies march out over
unfamiliar wooden territory

slate and shell
hands placing the stones
tick – steadily
tock – like a clock
counting the moments to a defeat

slate and shell
black and white
life and death
if only life was always this simple!


Winter is Coming

The autumn winds are making the forest sing
and so I sit here, singing with my crying woodwind
The times of summer laughter and joy
drown in the grey mist that now cover these lands
and envelop us in the taste of the coming cold

You can feel it, can you not, my friend?
Hear the silent words that whisper
in the voice of the howling wind;
Save what you can, winter is coming
Save what you can, winter is coming…


A Waltz

For you I would be the perfect girl; a whispery-slender willow, a pale-clay statue dressed in the finest silk, the softest velvet.  For just a waltz in your arms.  For just a moment of feeling your body heat I would sacrifice my own.  For your breath down my neck I would give up breath altogether.  You lead and I follow.  You lead in the dance and I follow you.  I pretend that the flickering candles above are the stars and that we dance through the nothingness just we two.  You lead in the dance; for you it is a dance and you want to do it well.  For me you are the centre of the dance; for me it is all about you.  I have given up everything for this moment.  You lead and I follow.  I am the perfect girl for you.  I have made these waltzing shoes with my own hands; I myself have chosen this silk and this velvet to please you; I myself has made this gown just for this moment.  I am waiting for you to look down upon my face and see the girl of your heart.  I am waiting for you to look down and notice me.  My feet stumble and I almost fall but you hold me up, you lead on and I follow.

My heart beats to the music, to the sound of feet to cold marble.  Your arm around my waist as eternity stretches on.  Your hand against my own pressing my skin against my bones.  I look up at your face and you are looking straight forward.  I breathe your scent, I feel your breath to the top of my head and I tell myself that you care until the music stops and you lead me back to my chair, choosing another girl to dance with.

For just a waltz in your arms I have been the perfect girl, but you do not want that; you want a perfect dancer.