Don’t fall for your best friend,
even if cocoa is a really good color on you
and her shea butter curls feel like silk
in your hand.
Don’t sleep in her bed,
take her to breakfast,
and carry the so what are?
question under your tongue
while you eat. You know what you are:
I’m so glad we’re friends.
Don’t make her laugh, because her
silhouette will catch the moonlight
as you sit hip-to-hip
on the apartment roof— I see constellations.
The Virgo
will give you vertigo
Are gods really gods if no one believes in them anymore?
Zeus takes walks in the rain and tries to talk up joggers in central park. When they bolt, or only return his advances with polite smiles that look like fence posts too high for even him to jump, he sighs. He tells them he is a god, and his words echo back to him, accompanied by laughter. No one believes him
He picks up his wife, who might be his sister in this time, in a beat up car with a beautiful flame job, Hera is a marriage
Pestilence stalks the hospital corridors,
frail and pallid as every other half-dead thing around him.
He pours illness into the tiles and slathers it
like paint across the stark white walls,
wheezing a feeble laugh that would be sinister
if it weren’t so decrepit.
War haunts the law firms,
pressed three-piece suit tailored to perfection.
He is the reason for the palpable sting of separation—
estates and history and children and love
split right down the middle,
as
i. when you fall in love with an angel, you must understand that there are things you will not understand.
ii. when you first go to run your hands through his hair, his halo will slice your palm. and it will
hurt. he will will mend it with the touch of one golden finger, and will leave so abruptly that he is gone almost before you blink. the last thing you see will be him standing in the doorway, a terrified expression on his face and blood in his hair.
(later, he tells you that he di
when she is born, they name her mary. it means “bitter.” her mother—plain, unlovely—knows what her ugliness will mean. how it will feel. knows that ugliness makes everything harder, the mirror image of how being too beautiful makes everything harder. mary’s mother is unlovely, and she is happy, basically. she went to school, and they let her, not pretty enough to earn their scorn but too pretty to earn derision.
mary’s first word—a year old, face too red, eyes somehow too far apart and too
there’s a cliff in town. you heard somewhere that someone jumped from it back in high school. no one talks about it. you woke up one day and you notice it where your front yard used to be. you’d never actually seen it before. but it’s there now. you tell your mother and tells you to pray. you tell your father and he asks you if you want to fishing. you mention it to friends and they change the subject. you want to ask strangers if they can hear that strange distant ringing too. you don’t want to
Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.
You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.
You
Jaiden,
This must be very, very rough for you,
And I’m sorry that it had to happen like this.
Rest assured, this is hard for me too.
Making the decision was something I did
Because I thought it would make things easiest.
College is already on its way,
Life is changing,
We are changing,
Time is changing.
We both knew this would have to happen sooner or later,
And it does suck.
But I want you to know that it was never
Because of anyt
You asked me to write you a poem.
I’m sure that you hoped for a love poem
So sweet that it makes your teeth hurt.
I’m sorry but I can’t do that.
I can’t write you a love poem.
But if you let me
I will write you a new sky,
Describe to you in detail the way the clouds war
In the moments before they’re about to cry.
I can’t write you a love poem.
Instead, I can write you butterflies.
Butterflies that tickle your stomach
In those precious seconds before
Planes leave the ground,
Befor
Nostalgia
I saw three young children
Jumping on a trampoline today
And it made me sad
Because I remember being that young
And finding joy in small things,
Such as trampolines,
But now I am older
And I find joy in nothing.
Two Cents
There are some things
That I will never forget.
Like the habit of asking
“Two cents for your thoughts.”
As if thoughts can be bought
Using any type of currency.
Since none of that makes sense,
Here, take two.
It may not be much
But at least it means something.
It’s always worth something
If it’s coming from you.
There are some things
That will always survive
In my mind like how
Instead of two cents
You always gave five
Because you always sought
To find what I’d hidde
Three Little Girls
Envy stood at the edge of the park
With her pudgy arms folded
Across her small chest.
She scowled at the children
Who sat in the sandbox
And left no room for her.
Lust kicked the grass
And shrieked at those kids
“I want it! I need it!
I must have it! It’s mine!”
Greed pushed and shoved,
The girl with brown curls.
She punched and bit
The arms of the boys
Until the sandbox was empty
For only her use.
Gluttony’s Feast and Sloth’s Defeat
Gluttony arrived
In the
Unrequited Love
I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend.
Back then, my life was a song
With the bright music that reminds you of your youth
The one that screams “I’m wild! I’m free!”
Like doves we stuck together
Like ying and yang we were complete opposites
But somehow always seemed to fit.
Like the moon and the stars,
We were works of art.
And yes the moon had suitors but everyone must have known
That I was just one rock
In comparison to a billion suns.
My words a jester’s nonse
Sunset
I’m surprised
By the gentleness
Of his lips against mine,
Like the sun kissing the horizon.
I can feel the colors
Pulse through my veins;
In my fingertips-
In my toes.
The kind of sunset
You want to capture
And never let go.
The kind of sunset that is inspired
By divine artists.
The kind you can feel-
Not just see.
But I wonder-
Can he feel the colors too?
Everything ends.
There was a girl
That was my best friend.
Together we did so much.
We went on coffee dates at the Starbucks downtown.
And sent each other pictures of the clouds.
We wrote poetry
And lived for foggy days.
We made awkward eye contact with boys to see their reactions
Wrote handwritten letters with coded messages.
But everything ends
And I’m scared that now she sees me
When she buys coffee at Starbucks
But I’m not there.
I fear that she sees me standing in the fog
Or
This blog will have things that have already been explored by others but which I need to lay out for myself. Or potentially new ideas which I need to refine (and check if others have not yet theorised on) before posting on the forums.
TLR uses Lerasium for Feruchemy:
1. No answer to whether TLR and Hoid use Lerasium for Feruchemy
2. TLR did not eat a Lerasium bead
3. However, he did take a Lerasium bead for himself
Conclusion: The Lord Ruler either uses Lerasium for Feru
*I don't mean this post to be a request, just an expression of my thoughts as a fan who's fired up about any Brandon Sanderson material.*
Maybe 3 times a week I go to BrandonSanderson.com with nothing else in mind but checking on the progress bars in his site header. I think it's one of the coolest things an author can do (especially considering the genre's writing habits) to post on the progress of each book. Recognizing that their existence is a gift in itself - I think those progress bars sh
Last night I finally finished the book and I was blown away. That was an excellent read and I am left extremely satisfied. I'm going to stop the review right there because I have lots of comments and questions that will sum up my thoughts, so I don't want to repeat myself. This blog is going to be where I keep track of my WoR questions as well as just general comments on the book, the series, and the 17th Shard website itself.
SPOILERS! Yes, they will be in this blog. Don't read past here if yo
Preamble
Firstly, I was somewhat surprised, but very happy, to know that some people read the last entry I posted Thankyou.
So, for anyone who isn't aware, Shelldry is a game in the world of the mistborn series. It is mentioned a couple of times at most, but from when it is mentioned we can gather that it is some form of gambling card game. Partly to play with my MAG groups and partly just for the fun of it I decided to create a version of shelldry. It isn't complete yet so everything here is
