Tag: writingprompt

Things to Romanticize

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

A list I began for no reason and will probably continue. I just want to fall in love with the mundane again. It’s all in the little things I suppose.

Car Rides

The sleepy feeling of driving at night with someone you trust. Chill music playing in the background. Street lights whizzing by in the dark. The green glow of the radio controls.

Letters

Pen and ink. The wonderful scratching sound of writing on parchment. Being unnecessarily fancy. Writing in cursive. Talking about the weather and how much you miss them.

Elevator Rides

You feel busy and important but not so much so that you’re above smiling at those who get in the elevator with you. The little compliments you offer your temporary traveling companions. A shared moment of quiet in everyone’s day as the chime sounds after each floor.

Freshly baked bread

The smell filling the house. Soft butter. Soup. Cold, wet weather.

Lightning bugs

The smell of fresh July air. Mason jars. Contests between siblings to see who can catch the most,

Sun Rises

Being up and about before everyone else. Quiet time. Reading as you watch the world wake. A misty blanket which slowly lifts.

Lace curtains

Rays of sunshine streaming through. Patterned shadows being cast on the opposite wall. Quaint and homey.

Dabbling in many different hobbies

Who knows what you’re into this week. Fast paced. Knowing a little bit of everything. Endless possibilities. The joy of learning for the sake of learning.

Hand written notes (the handwriting doesn’t have to be perfect)

Personal. Gratitude for everyone in a small way. Smudged letters that reveal a message that has that person floating the rest of their day.

Moths

Flitting around light. Patterned wings. Night butterflies.

Evening Poems: Its not that I hate myself, I’m just tired of my own crap

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

It’s kind of sad.
I dont know when exactly but I think I stopped enjoying my own company.
I dont enjoy being alone anymore.
It’s been forever since I’ve enjoyed my thoughts and told myself stories before falling asleep.
My head hasn’t been a nice place to be lately.
Things weigh down heavier than I remember.
And I’m just so tired of myself. Which is unfortunate as she’s the only person in this world that I’m guaranteed to have.
I dont know when exactly I started being uncomfortable with being alone. Maybe it was a slow sort of process.
But it makes sense now why I have so many hobbies. Things that can distract me from the company that I’m keeping.
I dont particularly hate myself but she’s a very exhausting person to be around.
And so I’m tired all the time.

Writing Prompt: Murder Circus

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

You’ve worked at a circus all your life. You’ve seen acts come and go and generally have enjoyed your job and have stayed on good terms with everyone. It’s a living. But your life takes a turn when a new act is hired: a fortune teller. Which would be fine if she didn’t foretell the death of multiple circus troupe members three separate times. Something is going on here, and you are determined to find out what- not only to save your job, but the lives of the other members of the troupe.

Evening Poems: Nature Girl

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Field girl, field girl,
You belong to grass of the field
A gentle power you’ll wield
That many will seek to destroy
You have gold in your hair
Eyes of honey so fair
Dont let them take your heart.

Sea girl, sea girl,
Many will try to tread your depth
And come up short of breath
It is not your fault they never learnt to swim.
You have salt in your blood
For You are the flood
That bathes the world in blue.

Storm girl, storm girl.
Your voice is thunder
You’ll leave them to wonder,
Where your power lies.
There is force in your will,
Rain water does fill,
Your throat and spills through your eyes.

A Writer’s Night Routine to get Writing Done

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Hey! It’s another “Routine” post! This routine is for when I get home early from work and want to get some writing done! Some times its hard for me to maintain focus in the evening because the temptation to distract myself by scrolling through my phone is a lot stronger at night buuuut this routine tends to help me stay on track. So here it is!

7:00pm – Drink water

Again, hydration helps clear your head.

7:30pm – Wash your face

Sometimes makeup makes my eyes feel “tired-er” so I like to wash my face and remove my makeup before getting started.

8:00pm – Get comfy and in your pajamas

Matching pajama sets are my Achille’s heel so I super enjoy this step.

8:15 pm – Unplug

Get rid of those distractions! Turn your phone off or put it in a different room!

8:30pm – Set up your space

Turn on as many lights as you think you need, get out any writing supplies as you think you need for note making. Basically just prepare your space in a way that will aid your focus!

8:35-9:30 or 10pm – Write for a half hour at least

10:00pm – Take a break for a light midnight snack

Or 10 ‘o clock snack. Just something light because you don’t want to have any trouble sleeping. I recommend fruit or a snack bar. I also recommend getting a warm drink during this break. It adds to the cozy.

10:00-10:30 or 11pm – Write some more

You’ve got this!

11:00pm – Call it a night!

Hopefully at this point you have around 1,000 words, but even if you don’t you’ve worked for a long while. Reward yourself and sleep well!

Evening Poems: Nest

~ Brooke F. ~ 3 Comments

I wish my brain would let me rest 

But instead its such a pest 

In my mind, it weaves a nest 

Threads of lies and old regrets.  

I pray to God this is a test 

Unwelcomed thoughts only a guest. 

A temporary, void distress. 

And not a permanent life long unrest.  

All these fears I have confessed. 

Yet I must act as if I’m blessed. 

Even if this weight I’ll detest. 

A burden to bear at his request.  

Evening Poems: The Ballroom of Fire

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

I’ve got on a gown of ash 

Come on darling, let’s look past.   

The room’s afire, windows alight.  

Orange flames against the night.  

They’re playing our song, 

Just dance along. 

A waltz in a ballroom of fire.   

The shadows weave against the wall 

A tragic dance- dont let me fall. 

In a ring of spark and ember. 

I’ll do my best to not remember  

This waltz in a ballroom of fire.  

The violins climb and then they sing.  

The fateful song in the halls do ring.  

The tiles are now stained with coal. 

My hands are black-this is the toll. 

Look at me, though the flames are higher.  

This is The Waltz in a ballroom of fire.  

The clock strikes- it is the end.  

The smell of smoke 

As time continues its endless march.  

Smoke is all I have to breath. 

Fire and flames are all I see. 

Is that a shadow-or is it your face? 

Your hand that I hold is my saving grace.  

As we Waltz in a ballroom of fire.  

Admist the crackle, a clock does chime. 

This is it- we’ve run out of time.  

All I ask is you hold my close.  

As we raise a glass of final toast.  

Of a night well spent in a ballroom of Fire.  

Writing Prompt: Souls in a Jar

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

A witch travels around the world, collecting and bartering over souls in jars. She ends up with quite a large collection. Until one day, her shelf containing every single fraction of a person, falls, smashing every bottle in the process. The souls and their owners are released but are left rather dazed. Tell me about this ragtag group and how they make their way in the world having missed years of their lives.