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thepensword

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thepensword last won the day on September 20

thepensword had the most liked content!

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About thepensword

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    Imago

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  1. whale bones

    i am walking through the carcass of a whale there are great bones around me, massive ribcage— they are towers, or bars, or the walls of a home. is there marrow within them? or poetry? i thought the whale would fade after beaching but it did not— when it did i thought it would wither. perhaps it did, but the carcass remains; i am walking through the carcass of a whale and wondering how long before the wind carves the bones to dust. farewell to the orange sky. farewell to the cicada call in the summer evenings. food is still good past its expiration date and sometimes daylight clings beyond the setting sun but when the midnight comes, will it bring waves to cleanse the beach? when i return come morning, will the whale be gone? i whisper poetry to the inside of a whale carcass and wonder how long i have left. ~~~~~~~ ((AN: there's a weird, half-life atmosphere to the slam now. it's like all the rats abandoned ship but the ship hasn't sunk yet. the slam was supposed to go down but it's still here and it's like walking through purgatory. it's like it's here but it isn't and i'm hurting to see how long it will last.))
  2. discord

    @bluebird okay so just accept my discord friend request and i can add you. i'm thepensword there too
  3. discord

    @bluebird i'm gonna try and add you directly
  4. Information on Staying In Touch! IMPORTANT!!!!!!

    I'm posting the link again because apparently the above link expired even though I told it not to? Here: https://discord.gg/uTNAYjt
  5. Hey everyone. As you probably now know, the slam is closing. I want to start by saying this has been a wonderful journey that I’m so glad to have shared with you all and I’ll be sad to see it go. HOWEVER. This does not have to be the end! As stated in @queenie_flower ‘s post “abandon ship”, there is a secondary slam archive in the works. Additionally, for those of you who were here to have a safe space and who wish to keep in contact, there is and has been for a while now a slam discord group. Here’s the link: https://discord.gg/D5HkXuU I’ve set it to not expire but if somehow it does, you can contact me on tumblr as @/thepensword or via email at the.pen.sword1@gmail.com . Please don’t be afraid to reach out if you need it. It has been great knowing you all and I wish you the very best in future endeavors. -Jess
  6. Pictures of Fireworks

    this is lovely and beautiful descriptions and i love it but also cass sounds like @queenie_flower
  7. oxygen

    i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t....breathe oxygen stale in caved-in lungs breath beating wings, frantic inside birdcage set my canary free let me breathe give me oxygen i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t.... the funny thing, says the narrator with wise, weary knowing, is that she actually can breathe just fine. there’s no cage—only the monsters snarling in her paranoid, runaway thoughts in the corners of her warped and worried mind (you’ve always been a worrier) let my canary free of the darkness and the fear (i can’t breathe—you can. i can’t—you’re fine. are you sure? how can you ever be sure?)
  8. sugar coated

    queenie are you okay
  9. dear men

    dear men: why? i try to assume the best of people but god, you sure make it hard listen i'm sure you meant the best when you asked about my cosplay, but then i told you and you didn't leave you didn't leave you didn't leave maybe you thought that was fine but you're over a foot taller than me and please, i just want to get up that escalator look. imagine me, sitting there, waiting for my friend (we were walking together but i got tired of waiting; here's why) you call me 'pretty sexy', sitting there in full cosplay. are you from lord of the rings? did you see my hands tighten around the umbrella? could you hear my heart stutter? 'sorry, pretty,' you say, like that makes it better (spoiler: it doesn't. i know it's in your head.) i smile because i don't know what else to do. please leave. 'meet us at the restaurant,' says my mother, 'we thought the meet up would take longer' i knew it wouldn't. i tell her that. i walk four blocks and i'm nervous as hell little me in the city, dressed in a goddamn blonde wig and short shorts and crop top 'hey, baby,' says the man on the bench. i will beat you with this umbrella dear men: i am not your piece of meat. let's go back a few weeks. picture me, laughing, full-face of makeup: 'oh, do me next,' i laugh. 'how old do you think i am?' '24.' '17.' he holds his hands out for handcuffs. my laughter turns false. i don't want your wink and smile over the glass countertop. i just want my sandwich. dear men: i am not a slice of ham at the deli. i am not a cold drink for you to sip. i am not a statue or a piece of art. i am five feet tall with zero muscle and i will lay you flat with this umbrella. i'm seventeen years old. don't make me. technically i'm bisexual. there's a reason i focus mostly on girls. want to guess the reason? in summary: men. why? AN: why are men like this why why why this poem sucks but i don't even care i just want to get it out there that i am pissed off and done
  10. Overheard Quotes

    *emphatically* “It’s not an eggplant!!” *sulkily* “it’s a caterpillar....”
  11. Overheard Quotes

    "If the lord gave you selfies, why wouldn't he let you take them in his house?" "I don't want any! FUCK bread!" "You don't like french fries you don't get an opinion." "Will you be my barbecue dad?" "I'll be your barbecue daddy."
  12. thoughts on oil-paint vacation

    whisper farewell with tears in throat and fly with anxiety and excitement; escape one life to visit another here is a world that is quiet and calm (except at night or in the early morning; afternoon stillness is a deception, for at night comes the singing and the drums.) and the bells—oh, the bells. ceaseless chime from yonder tower over orange-tile rooftops. green shutters open over cobblestone streets with cafe tables and people walking, wind blows heat past into something not-quite reaching coolness. come with me to the garden and look out to the hills; they tower as mountains, nestled with houses like anthills in fields or beehives on branches i hate it here, says the beautiful girl with the rolling words. i want to visit your home think of the gray asphalt streets and the crooked stop signs the grass is always greener on the other side, the sky always a deeper shade of blue. sometimes i want to go home. marbles in feet and sweat between thighs, but oh, how are voices ring. there is difficulty in distance; and a sort of detachment from reality is this my life? is this my world? this is a liminal space that exists in the moment and will remain in photographs; across the waves, my family still slumbers as the noonday sun rises above my head. will i remember this when i return? will i forget the details—the smile of the barista, the stray cat crouched in the shade? will i forget the deafening wind in the microphones? i think i will not forget the hills, rolling and fantastical; at the very least, i will have the evidence saved for later viewing. at last visit, i painted this scene; i could not capture its essence. but evidence, i think, will remain in the deep pockets of my voice, and my song will linger in the corners of cathedrals.
  13. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    @Fullmetal Sorcereroh my god yes of course that's perfect
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