Okay I’m Finally Writing This And It Is Literally Just Fiyero And Glinda Fighting Over Elphaba, Like

penelope really said how dare you imagine a world where i don't love you. how fucking dare you. every day that you are not here is torture to me. every moment spent without you is like missing a piece of myself. how. fucking. dare you. pick up our immovable fucking wedding bed until you learn some respect

Gen Z

Born in the shadow

Of 9/11

Birth certificates

Make a spectacle

Of how gullible we are

.

The news channel

Like a lullaby

Our parents watch

Not wanting to wake us

We go to sleep knowing

That the monsters

Were never under our bed

.

And despite what we go through

Despite how many horrors

We are witness to

A gag is on our mouth

Told we are

Too young

Too stupid

Too naive

And we are

.

I am

Too young

To be scared of going to school

And watching the life pour out of my friends

Because skin isn’t impenetrable like titanium

Ricocheting bullets embed themselves in soft skin

And now I’ll never be able to say

“I’m sorry” for that dumb fight during lunch

Bulletproof backpacks

Were never in the school wish list

Look around the class

Who are you willing to die for?

Are you strong enough to comfort their mom?

She’ll be crying on your shoulder

As you tell stories

How everybody copied off their homework

Because they were the smartest

Or how they never failed to make the class burst in laughter

Explaining the inside jokes that died with them

In a pool of their own blood

Right by your desk

.

I am

Too young

To find my friend’s body

Slumped over

On the bathroom floor

Candy coloured pills stuffed down their throats

Dothiepin, Amitriptyline and Imipramine

Or maybe crimson blood pouring down their wrists

Because we never questioned

If they were hot with a sweater during summer

Too late to help battle whatever demons they were facing

Too late to be the knight in shining armour they needed

And a note lays in their hand

Apologizing for what they did

When you know the person that should’ve apologized

Was you

Because maybe

If you had listened more

If you had asked the right questions

If you had done this or that

It doesn’t matter

Cause when suicide

Is the 2nd leading cause

Of death in youth

What’s the point

Trying to be the superhero with the red cape

When you might be the one at the noose?

.

I am

Too young

To see familiar faces on the news

Afraid to see my friends body

Drape over a white sheet

As if that covers up the horrors

“Don’t shoot!”

Shouldn’t be

Someone’s last words

He looked older in the dark

He only fired in self-defense

Blue lives or black lives?

Which ones matter most?

You might call me obnoxious

Because i don’t submit to your ideals

But let me ask you this

When did people go to an academy

For their skin?

When were people given uniforms

For their skin?

When were people given guns

For their skin?

They just wanted to go home

To their families

That’s what we all want

But only one of us will go home

The other laying on the concrete

Covered in a white sheet

Like cheap Halloween decoration

The blood seeping through

Scratchy white fabric

.

I am

Too young

To be sent out of class

Because my skirt was too short

“The boys will be distracted”

They said

But I look around the room

They’re doing their work

They’re focused

So why are you not?

Why are you looking at my legs?

I’m walking down the street

A man old enough to be my dad

Is looking at me, staring

Like a lion watches his prey

Looking for a moment to strike

A cobra swaying from side to side

If I’m not careful

His poison will flow through my veins

I can feel his eyes on me

As if I somehow share his sins

They are crawling on my back

So maybe I should’ve put on that jacket

Maybe I should’ve worn pants instead

But it was a nice day

And I had just ironed my skirt

And maybe I should’ve asked someone

To come get the mail with me

Because now if something happens

It’s my fault

.

I am

Too young

To be crying at my friend’s funeral

Because no matter

How many times

I told them to stop

They wouldn’t

A loopy wonderland

And meaningless smiles

Were too much

Of a temptation

Against a brutal reality

Of a cold and desaturated planet

Shouts still ringing

In their ears

And last week

Their mom found their body

Overdosed in the bathtub

Eyes still wide

Staring

Pupils dilated

And now

My last memory of them will be

Silky smoke in my face

Burning claws in my lungs

While I’m still sitting on the couch

Drinking Diet Coke

Because I “don’t know how to live”

But apparently

Neither do they

.

I grew up in a world

Where violence is common

A bullet flies by

But I don’t notice

Desensitized and numb

.

And now that I have a voice

That you’ve never heard before

You will try to silence me

But can you really blame me

For my shouts?

I was born with information

At my fingertips

Connected

To every news source in the world

And you expect me

To stay at the kid’s table

During dinner?

Because the adults are talking?

.

But you have brought me onto this earth

Where the expectation

Was to watch the world burn

And you don’t care

Because you’ll die

Before you see the sun explode

But I will remain

We will remain

To see our flesh melt off

You brought us here

In the middle of a battle

And you have failed miserably

The battles you won

Will be meaningless

Against the war that we will win

.

We will rise from the ashes

Of what you have already burned down

Lottie Matthew’s is indeed that father you didn’t want who stepped up (seriously, Shauna hide your babies Lottie wants to raise them)

the inescapable structure of tragedy, the lines of causality

matthew stover, star wars episode III: revenge of the sith novelization / prophetic perfect tense / louise glück, the triumph of achilles / hadestown, “road to hell” / sunnyscenegenerator / joanna newsom, “waltz of the 101st lightborne”

Start Here - Caitlyn Siehl

Hear me out yall, a fic where Rosita suffers postpartum depression and psychosis after having Coco because for the stressful situations they’re in and their general mental health it seems a bit more likely the show portrays. Like the frustration of having survived so much shit only to lose your mind over nothing (Rosita’s pov because postpartum depression is not a joke)

The angst, the tension, the years of trauma colliding because you’re finally safe but you’ve been at war for so long you don’t know what that means. And you want your daughter to have a good future but you don’t know if you believe jn good anymore and ????

Don’t worry, lots of found family and semi-comforting hallucinations because I could not leave Rosita hanging

The IOF opened fire on starving civilians trying to collect food aid murdering dozens and injuring an estimated hundreds or more they then crushed some of the injured by running over them with tanks. This was their “reason.”

Prophets Are Only Useful If They Prophecise - K.Blair - in response to @patronsaintofmonsters prompt ‘monster prophets’ 

“true love” this, “endgame” that. what about “compelling dynamic that’s fun to explore”

someone much more talented than me needs to make a Kate (or Javi) (or both) edit to End of Beginning by Djo so I can rewatch it a thousand times and spiral