non-binary plural system.

35, queer, autistic, therian.

writer of fictions. from the internet. variety of interests. knows everyone. icon by @candiedreptile.

posts signed in some fashion until we get to select from a pool of icons like the livejournal days.


email
hello@fionnafromtheinter.net

posts from @pleonasticTautology tagged #poetry

also:

Why were the stories we found joy in never good enough?
Excuses, constantly.
"Effort," you'd say,
drawn out like a sigh.

Amazing how a mind that contained an entire world,
and the peoples thereof,
couldn't suspend disbelief enough
to sit and watch live action instead of animation.

At least our parents were kind enough to say
"you talk too much"
instead of dancing around the point.
It's not as if you were ever afraid to hurt our feelings.

If you just said you didn't care,
we would've stopped trying sooner.
Instead you tried to drag us down with you,
but we will not follow the anchor into the sea.



there's no place like HOM3
but why bother going back
there's nothing good there

but here we sit fixating
what could we have done different?
what could we have changed?

we feel the weight of every connection we enable
especially when the bridge collapses into the river
blood players feel every severed artery.

we're sorry we introduced you to them.
it would have saved us all pain
and we'll carry it in our heart forever.

red flags are always obvious in retrospect
even this BL1ND T34LBLOOD can notice them now
but what good is retrospect in the face of linear time

and we'll fixate, i'll fixate
i'll beg, i'll plead, F1X TH1S
but i can't. no one can.

we are the story of everyone we've ever met,
but how do i redact this chapter?
it hurts too much to reread.



the stage pr0ducti0n is in shambles.

the scriptwriters had t0 thr0w 0ut years 0f w0rk, character arcs crashing d0wn like ill-hung stage light scaff0lding.

the act0rs are directi0nless. s0me are hiding in their dressing r00ms, shaking in fear fr0m the ech0es 0f every perf0rmance pri0r.

what new trials w0uld they be put thr0ugh next? "based 0n a true st0ry" usually d0esn't mean casting act0rs wh0've been thr0ugh the same, but here we are.

am i a narrat0r? the playbill? a critic bef0re 0pening night? it d0esn't matter. i will play whatever r0le is necessary f0r this tale t0 end and the next t0 begin.

a new st0ry will be written, but first this cast and crew 0f thirty-seven must each m0urn this failure 0f a play.



"walking on eggshells"
come up with a worse metaphor.
never trust a pop psychiatrist
to do the mentally ill's job

yes, how dare you
have to put up with the mess
that countless others left
a corpse of glass on the floor

is it really too much?
watch your step, i say
there's legos on the floor
a mess left by those before you

they don't listen
goosestep with abandon
then snap at me because
i've left such a mess

so i adapt
expect everyone to trod
over the bricks that once were me
a mess so thick you can't see the floor

i make camp
at the summit of a mountain
of promises broken and unkept
of social trauma and lost friends

and it's so hard to believe that anyone would want me around, after years and years, decades and decades, of evidence to the contrary, but here you are and here i am and i'm sorry for crying and i'm sorry for being insane and please watch your step there's a lot of legos on the floor