FanPoetry?
PoFic?
Whatever it is called, I seem to write it (especially when responding to
spn_bitesized prompts).
Theme: Angels & Demons
Prompt: "Ruby prefers blondes. But she can make an exception." from
morebutterflys
Title: Exception
Ruby's original meat-suit was blonde.
Way back when.
Before hell.
(And she got up off that Rack the first time they offered.)
But blonde is a bit too on the nose for Sam Winchester.
A bit too burned up on the ceiling.
Twice now.
So she goes dark.
And dead.
(In some ways it's almost better: no screaming, raging, crying, sobbing, "Let me out!")
(In some ways it's almost boring: no screaming, raging, crying, sobbing, "Let me out!")
Why be sentimental about an old meat-suit anyway?
Theme: Poetry (<-- I've got an excuse for this one)
Prompt: "any, 'It is a heart, this holocaust I walk in.
O Golden child, the world will kill and eat you'
-Mary's Song by Sylvia Plath" from
later_tuesday
Title: Mary's Song
Golden hair meets golden flames
To lick and curl and turn to ash
Raised to kill by childish names
Hurled by fate into the clash
Made a choice she thought was free
Left behind the family trade
But the intervention of angels and destiny
Unmake the choices she might have made.
When you're in trouble, you can call DW.
Whatever it is called, I seem to write it (especially when responding to
spn_bitesized prompts).
Theme: Angels & Demons
Prompt: "Ruby prefers blondes. But she can make an exception." from
morebutterflys
Title: Exception
Ruby's original meat-suit was blonde.
Way back when.
Before hell.
(And she got up off that Rack the first time they offered.)
But blonde is a bit too on the nose for Sam Winchester.
A bit too burned up on the ceiling.
Twice now.
So she goes dark.
And dead.
(In some ways it's almost better: no screaming, raging, crying, sobbing, "Let me out!")
(In some ways it's almost boring: no screaming, raging, crying, sobbing, "Let me out!")
Why be sentimental about an old meat-suit anyway?
Theme: Poetry (<-- I've got an excuse for this one)
Prompt: "any, 'It is a heart, this holocaust I walk in.
O Golden child, the world will kill and eat you'
-Mary's Song by Sylvia Plath" from
later_tuesday
Title: Mary's Song
Golden hair meets golden flames
To lick and curl and turn to ash
Raised to kill by childish names
Hurled by fate into the clash
Made a choice she thought was free
Left behind the family trade
But the intervention of angels and destiny
Unmake the choices she might have made.
When you're in trouble, you can call DW.