‵ ⚘ *・G O D D (L) E S S ･ ′

One particular thing that spurred some inspiration is on the extent of Roxy’s godly abilities. Primarily her God Voice, this is an ability that I rarely speak about, if not, literally probably just that one time years ago. Anyway, Roxy’s God Voice is a power that allows her to impose her will on others through a verbal command that triggers the primal fear aspect in their subconscious. Thus, her targets end up doing as she commands them through sheer terror. When she utters a verbal command, the brain relays and re-iterates the command as a threat. For an example, if she tells someone to “Run away,” the target’s brain will re-transcribe it as “Run away, or else.” From there all rational thought is abandoned and the target operates on overwhelming emotions.

Furthermore, it’s said that tigers have a roar that can paralyze their prey, where the vibrations in their vocal folds can be felt enough that it triggers that sort of nervous response. Roxy’s God Voice hits a certain vibrational wave that overrides the amygdala (where the brain processes emotional response to stimuli, and ultimately processes fear response) and it’s ability to regulate and process the fear response, by forcing it to the extremes. Essentially, the kind of state people get into can be easily compared to the fear prey animals experience when being pursued by a predator. They get jolted into action rather then persuaded through the power of suggestion, or being brainwashed / hypnotized / or mind-controlled into doing things.

AUGUST POETRY PROMPTS ··· a collection of poetry prompts where summer softens at the edges, dusk hums with cicadas, and every heart begins to mourn what has not yet ended.

1. living for the hope of it all 2. late summer made poets of us both 3. I left my sadness on the screened-in porch 4. spritz spills and second chances 5. something about sea glass and the way you looked at me 6. borrowed time & blackberry wine 7. prosecco nights and the poetry of almosts 8. this is what healing sounds like in a sundress 9. I’m in my fig jam and fiction era 10. sun-drenched, salt-slick, and exactly who I want to be 11. I do not mourn what I outgrew 12. a love letter written in the condensation of my glass 13. tangled in you  14.  a poem written in wine rings and what-ifs 15. I am too in love with my peace to reopen old pages 16. I still dream of your laugh under the late August stars 17. pastel skies and paperback love 18. bitters & beginnings 19. I forgave the summer for being brief—because it gave me you.  20. chalk names on pavement, washed away by rain 21. they threw shade; I planted a garden 22. there is nothing villainous about choosing yourself 23. soft, whole, and finally out of reach 24. your version of me is fiction. mine is poetry 25. champagne flutes, typewriter keys, and the truth 26. figs, freckles, and full-bodied feelings 27. too rare to shelve, too beloved to loan out 28. one more sunset, one more wish: stay 29. I left the door open . . . just in case the season, or you, returned 30. where the wild lavender grows 31. summer slipped like sand through my fingers—and I loved it even as it left

Roxy: move I’m Greek

May - Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month

Roxy: Move I’m Asian and it’s my birthday

June - Pride and Indigenous Heritage month

Roxy: move I’m gay* and Indigenous*

REVELATION:  A  storm  rages  as  the  sender  uncovers  a  family  secret.  They  turn  to  receiver  for  support. 

BLOODLINE:  In  the  receiver's  house,  the  sender  stands  over  a  box  of  old  photos  and  secrets. 

DAWN:  At  the  break  of  dawn,  the  receiver  watches  the  sender  as  they  struggle  with  the  loss  of  a  loved  one. 

SURRENDER:  The  sender  holds  the  receiver’s  hand  as  they  walk  through  a  graveyard. 

AWAKENING:  After  a  near-fatal  accident,  the  sender  awakens  to  the  receiver  by  them.

BRAID:  The  sender  braids  the  hair  of  the  grieving  receiver.   

INESCAPEABLE:  The  sender  looks  at  the  receiver,  a  deep  fear  in  their  eyes,  knowing  that  death  is  inevitable.

AFTERMATH:  The  receiver  stands  silently  as  the  sender  stares  at  the  aftermath  of  a  choice  made,  a  life  lost,  and  the  painful  consequences  weighing  heavily  on  them  both.

REVENGE:  The  sender  turns  to  the  receiver,  filled  with  bitter  resolve  as  they  prepare  to  avenge  a  death  that's  connected  them  both. 

FORGIVENESS:  In  the  stillness  of  the  night,  the  sender  kneels  before  the  receiver,  seeking  forgiveness.

BENEATH:  The  sender  pulls  the  receiver  from  the  wreckage,  their  hands  bloodied,  both  knowing  there’s  no  way  to  survive  this  other  than  together. 

JUNE POETRY PROMPTS ··· a collection of poetry prompts bathed in the long gold of solstice light, where love grows as fruit on the branch and the heat makes liars of us all.

1. I found your name pressed between the pages of june 2. kissed by the sun but thinking of you 3. you were the underline in every chapter I reread 4. we were prose pretending to be permanence 5. a love like wild thyme & cigarette ash 6. I was the orchard. you only wanted the wine 7. I spilled a bottle of rosé and blamed the stars 8. our love—sun-warmed, barefoot, and wildly unafraid 9. I dressed up for the sunset like it was a lover 10. I made sweet tea and forgave myself again 11. we met in the fantasy section—how fitting 12. you annotated my life with quiet affection 13. some days, I date the sky. some days, I marry the moon 14. joy arrived in sonnets and strawberries 15. I became a bouquet in your hands 16. the cicadas went silent when you touched me 17. June wrote your name in sweat down my spine 18. you made me believe in soft landings 19. I became the person I used to write about  20. the sun came back and so did I  21. I found pieces of us in every golden hour 22. you made summer feel like forever 23. I am my own protagonist . . . and today, I got the love arc 24. june was all lavender 25. you and the strawberry moon 26. we almost had forever. we settled for june 27. my love language is long walks through bookstores 28. film photos from that summer 29. aperol spritz ; the summer air ; you and me 30. the last light of june caught on my collarbone, and it lingered