BendtedWreath

The way you presented these quotes was powerful; resonant; poignant!

These poems draw forth images of the West and offers glimpses of the real men beneath the Stetsons.

So he chose the trail, though the nights ran cold, Chose the stories that never get told. Chose the grit, the dust, the long hard ride— For a man’s true compass lives inside. - Nice! I chose the trail before me, Not the love that turned away. Some hearts ain’t meant for keeping, No matter how you pray. - This is true.

Rhaelce looked surprised. “No lukka,” he said. “You no wrong. He wrong.”/“Me orreki?” Malik asked./Rhaelce looked thoughtful, but then nodded. “Orreki,” he agreed, and gave him a pat on the back. - That Rhaelce already sees Malik as family is deeply moving. While I understand the bystander's concern, if Malik was a threat to the kids, Rhaelce wouldn't have had him help him watch them. “What ‘romsarasily’?” Malik asked, his mouth stretching around the vowels./Lyria’s cheeks took on a greenish cast. “Uh…” she cast around for words to explain, but when they failed her, she held up her hands and made a gesture that unmistakably imitated sex./Malik’s mouth dropped open and Lyria giggled nervously. His eyes drifted back to Rhaelce and he couldn’t help but see his movements differently with his new information. - Hahaha! He quickly dropped his hand and felt the tingling vanish. He knew without looking that the fire was gone./Lyria didn’t say anything, but Malik did notice that she kept her distance most of the night. He was happy to let her. - I have to give Lyria some credit here. It's sheer street smarts to see something wild and then trying to mind her own business instead of snitching. “Please,” he whispered./Rhaelce stayed where he was. “Yes?” he asked./“Yes.” - Consent was indeed given. So many things happened in this chapter. It was very dynamic. We had the family bonding that was cut short and the ensuing tension, the Rosala ceremony/festivities, Malik making a new friend in Lyria, fire, Malik possibly losing the new friend Lyria, and Rhaelce's Romsarasily prayer, which actually worked.

That's a relief on my part, as I tried my best not to drag Cassie's writing style down too hard. In terms of flow, we checked in as often as possible. Some parts didn't play out how it was originally planned (not that I can remember specific ones at this point), but the key moments shone through, and I'm glad of it. Cute is relatively on brand for me, I think. 🤣 The specific interweaving of the transitions was thanks to Cassie's expertise.

On this, I'm sure Cassie and I both agree. In this particular case, Cassie already had the idea in mind of estranged friends reuniting. She wrote one part, we discussed where it might go from there, then I'd write the next part, we'd discuss where to go from there, and so on. It was a challenge for me technically, as I'm not only the less experienced writer, I've also never written in 1st POV before this story (I caught myself slipping into third a few times). But about halfway through, the characters themselves felt established enough that it wasn't as difficult to keep them consistent.

Thanks on behalf of us both!

Thanks on behalf of us both!

I think because I was born closer to the tail end of that generation, I find myself most at ease with everyone born in that timeframe... more than others my age and younger. They are more than a bridge to me, they are beacons and guides that I admire. More often than not, they are not quick to judge, and they treat mistakes like learning opportunities rather than a chance to shame. The ones I've interacted with (both in person and online) are incredibly independent and value vacation time, as the video suggests, to disconnect. It's disheartening to imagine that they feel lonely due to the advancements other generations weren't forced to learn halfway into their lifespans, but the way things are going with AI, it's only a matter of time before my own generation gets a taste of that. 😅

Thanks, Chris!

Thanks on behalf of us both!

It was wishful thinking, wishful thinking. 😂

There was a bit of a delay in posting, but this story is still very new. Thank you for your kind words and for reading! Good point. 🤔I did miss adding a closer at the bottom. But this is still very much, as Cassie said, a oneshot.

Jace never thought he'd see Louis again, especially not at a wedding packed with old faces and even older drama. One encounter is all it takes for old feelings to come flooding back, making it impossible to pretend the past never happened. As the reception unfolds, Jace is forced to face just how much he's still carrying and, maybe, what he still wants.

A Second Dance By Cassie and Ben *** I recognized my former friend the second he walked into the ballroom. Louis looked older, like the rest of us, but still had those piercing grey eyes that perfectly matched the suit he wore. He wore his blond hair differently than when we were teenagers, cut shorter and more professional, but the ready smile was the same. I wasn't sure what kind of path he had taken, straight to work as I did, or the college route, but he looked cool an

There wasn't a single poem that didn't land. Thanks for everyone's contributions.

Don't let the title and warnings scare you. This one's a banger.

I wrote this song lyric many, many years ago. The "homosexual panic defense" -- the idea that if a straight man thinks that a gay man is coming on to him sexually, then he might panic and then, understandably and justifiably, might murder said gay man - was in the news. - (Uh-oh. I have a bad feeling about this.) Who now can know what wandering of soul it did require To turn a burning envy into bodily desire? - (Oof. That line.) As Abel had no children, we're most likely sons of Cain. They branded Cain an outcast; the brand on some remains. - Now I want to hear this as a song.

Don't be fooled. This is no small offering. There is nothing small in the manner in which it provokes thought.

as if its preference might matter to a tired, thirsty world where it falls? - (On that note, I pity the clouds that get swept up into hurricanes.) This one was profound.

Oh, man. Don't read that last one on an empty stomach. I've never craved homemade spaghetti so much in my life.

In the end, we are not judged by the dramatic, but by the simple, by the day-to-day and the doors we do not open. - (Oh! That hit me hard.) You hesitate longest over the sentences you thought saved you. They aren’t wrong. They just don’t belong. - (I'm suddenly glad I'm not half as tortured when editing.) Add garlic next, one or two Who on earth uses so few? - (That's what I'm saying.) My inner voice says you must add six Mince it fine and then mix, mix, mix - (I feel hungry now.) “I have a meeting early, so, please. Let’s aim for breath that won’t fell trees.” I pause. I weigh. I try to be fair. Garlic or love? Choose with care. Without it, dinner feels polite, A little bland, and not right. - 🤣 So cook with joy, ignore the doubt. The only mistake, is leaving it out. -

Don't ask me the difference between types of poems, because I've long forgotten the details. What I do know is that these poems are grounded by senses in a way that took me by surprise. (Edit: Alternate review- How Aditus almost compelled me to buy a cat... again.)

This one had warnings, and I knew exactly what I was getting into when I started reading. But, goddamn it, I was once again compelled to write a review. I could only aspire to create something so raw and real.

I used the “dark” tag, but that may not be strong enough. This is definitely laced with mental anguish. Therefore, this may be very disturbing, so be forewarned, and only read if you feel you can handle themes of suicide. - (Oh, hell. I'm going to get wrecked again, aren't I? Well, no time like the present. Time to rip it off like a band-aid by just diving in.) Is that even our choice either? There’s only one way to be sure. - (My sap of a heart is aching.) I want to have a legacy, other than my kids. But since almost no-one knows who I really am. What is here doesn’t qualify. - (I greatly disagree. Your stories have left a mark on me and any who read it. They will also remain long after you're gone and will continue to make others think.)